RA Podcast

Sam Coates took to techno like a diligent pupil, falling in love with the genre through labels like CLR in the late '00s. It didn't take long for the student to surpass his proverbial teachers. Almost immediately, the Manchester native was putting out pitch-perfect, functional techno records with everything intricately balanced. The requisite move to Berlin only sealed his fate as a future techno luminary, and by now, based in Kyiv, he's one of techno's most reliable, yet exciting, workhorses. Setaoc Mass records (and those on his label, SK_eleven) are minimalist but colossal, deceptively simple but not easy to pull off. We've praised him in these pages for his "sense of economy—how to get the hardest impact out of just a few elements," and that's the idea behind his RA Podcast as well. Put together from records old and new, and intricately layered, Coates's mix is like a time-travelling wormhole connecting disparate eras from techno, and highlighting the genre's most timeless attributes: mechanistic rhythm

Most underground movements in the arts can be boiled down to one key ingredient: friends doing dope shit together. Childhood BFFs Luca Medici and Delbert Perez have been doing just that with INVT (that's "innovate"), a multidisciplinary art project that spans club music and streetwear. Before exploding onto the international stage and playing to massive crowds in Ibiza and Tulum, the Miami natives built a solid community at home through electrifying DJ sets, releases and fashion. They might be globe-trotting artists now, going back-to-back with artists like Skream and playing Panorama Bar, but their raw DIY spirit stays strong. Their tunes and live hardware shows fuse jungle, techno, East Coast club and dubstep—and lately, tech house and tribal house—with bass-heavy Latin genres like cumbia and guaracha. A reflection of Miami's diverse demographics, their genre cross-pollinations bring together skaters, dancers, artists and various subcultures. Their clothing lines are equally cross-cultural: repurposed vint

Last year, when we wrote that "the best UK garage is coming out of Los Angeles," we were talking about Introspekt. The US DJ, who has since moved to New York, really understands the genre—its appeal, swing and unique, bassy whomp. Listen to any of her tracks, like last year's "Forlorn," and you'll hear someone who produces like she's been making UKG all her life. This is probably partly because she comes from a dubstep background, but either way, if you're looking for new UK garage beats, Introspekt is one of the best going right now. Her DJing also hits a distinct sweet spot, zeroing in one of the proto-dubstep, dark UK garage days when producers like El-B were making the hottest shit around. Her sound is both retro and forward-looking, as you'll hear on her RA Podcast, which balances vintage Big Apple cuts from Skream & Benga with new-school tunes from Amaliah and Surusinghe. It's not so much a throwback as it is a rejuvenation of an old sound—a new way to look at it and a new way to make it. If hindsight

Berlin label and collective Live From Earth crew does things its own way. And it works. Over the past ten years, the team has become a major force in the city, mixing a killer ear for techno and house with a sense of humour and pop sensibility that has proven irresistible to audiences and scenes around the world. That's why we chose Live From Earth for our latest cover story: its DIY attitude, humble origins and tenacious spirit are everything we love about underground dance music. Accompanying the cover story, this RA Podcast features a recording of a live back-to-back between two of the label's chief artists, DJ Gigola and MCR-T (the latter of whom has produced some of Live From Earth's biggest hits, including horsegiirL's "My Barn My Rules"). The hour-plus recording makes for a handy microcosm of the label's sound, rushing through contemporary and vintage techno with plenty of raunchy vocal samples and hip-hop a capellas. It's blazing but never too hard, catchy but never predictable. Above all, it's fun—t

Of all the Berlin DJs who make a living spinning strange, I'm-not-sharing-the-tracklist kind of records, Sugar Free, originally hailing from Madrid, might be the most fun. She plays bold, colourful tracks with an air of sci-fi and sleaze, somewhere between Italo, hi-NRG, electro and house. (Her Dimensions Mix last year was one of our favourites of 2023.) She's the kind of DJ who messes with your perception of genres and tempos by how she blends tracks together, and also a DJ with a rare grasp of mixing melodies and moods—just check out the first transition of this RA Podcast for a spine-tingling example. Sugar Free doesn't speak much publicly, and you won't find a lot about her on the internet. She prefers to let her DJing speak for itself. And her RA Podcast says a lot: proggy basslines, heart-in-mouth descents into reverb-heavy breakdowns, eerie vocals and a general feel of psychedelia and '80s decadence. It's difficult to tell what era these records are from, which is part of the charm. For a bonus point,

FAUZIA is an artist of many moods. The UK talent moves from IDM to soul on her NTS Radio residency, while her club DJ sets reveal her love for '90s-style breaks, electro and bass-heavy sounds. In the studio, she explores her softer side through self-released homespun dub and ambient jungle. In recent years, she's gravitated towards live performances. Her gossamer vocals, one of her strongest suits, cuts through live instrumentation like a hummingbird in agile flight. In 2020, the London-based talent told Mixmag that she was done being categorised as a "dance music" artist—and so far, she's succeeded. While she incorporates clubby touchstones into her work, there's a deep level of cross-genre knowledge and blending at play. FAUZIA's RA podcast makes that clear. Free of any four-to-the-floor music, it moves from experimental jazz to orchestral melodies to R&B ballads for a thoughtful and introspective journey full of her own unreleased music that points towards her newer interest in composition. This is music

Shubostar's RA Podcast begins and ends with video game music. (The beginning kind of sounds like Mary Poppins, actually.) Lots of DJs and producers play or make music that emulates the nostalgic sounds of old-school gaming, but the South Korean artist goes direct to the source. Before falling in love with dance music, she went to an animation-focused high school and learned how to make video games—so it's basically in her musical DNA. And while her DJing isn't as out-there as you might expect from that description, '90s and '00s Japanese video game (and anime) soundtracks offer a good idea of what her playing sounds like: lush, synthetic and a little naive, full of wonder and positive vibes. With releases on labels like Permanent Vacation, Internasjonal and her own uju Records, Shubostar is also a student of cosmic space disco, inspired by artists like Daniele Baldelli, Lindstrøm and Prins Thomas. Lately she's been rubbing elbows with Âme and Dixon. She picks tracks from across eras and genres on her RA Podc

If Bitter Babe was a perfume, her scent would be animalic—heavy musk, bergamot, worn leather and burnt spices. The Bogotá-born, Miami-bred and now Berlin-based artist has a heady, ultra-rhythmic sound that feels made for sweltering summer nights and feral fantasies. Combining pan-Latin styles with hard drum and industrial touches, she's crafted a singular mood that defines her DJing and production: hazy, high-energy and sensual. Bitter Babe's ascent on the international circuit has been tied to her role in Miami's electronic renaissance. Whether it's proto-reggaeton, dense ambient or guaracha, her sets and productions are characterised by evocative low-end, darting synths and distorted frequencies that exude drama. With releases on TraTraTrax, Air Texture and SVBKVLT, she's cemented her position as an experimentalist, leaving the door open for more deconstruction and abstraction. As cofounder of multidisciplinary project LATITUDES, Bitter Babe seeks to unify Latin America's electronic music communities. Her

Detroit might be synonymous with techno, but it also has a rich house tradition. And Rick Wade—FKA Big Daddy Rick—is one of Detroit house's key players. Along with the likes of Keith Worthy, Theo Parrish and the late Mike Huckaby (who Wade had a lifelong friendship and friendly rivalry with), he created a hybrid sound that is both techno and house, effortlessly soulful, sculpted and glowing—and Midwest to the core. As Tajh Morris said in a retrospective review of one of his classic records, "growing up in Buchanan, Michigan, meant that Wade was much closer to Chicago than he was to Detroit." Many of Wade's best records were released on Harmonie Park, his era-defining label that also featured plenty of work from Huckaby. Those EPs still sound fresh and timeless today, qualities that extend to Wade's RA Podcast, which features 90 minutes of smooth-as-butter house old and new. Over the years he's kept the flame burning for the smouldering sounds of Detroit house, working in sounds from younger producers like Fo

Mogwaa is a Seoul-based DJ, producer and multi-instrumentalist who can seemingly do no wrong. Since his debut EP in 2017, he's developed a stellar track record of releases and live performances that have made him an in-demand name across East Asia and beyond. And he's only just getting started. The South Korean artist's multi-genre palette and hardware expertise have earned him the description of boy wonder from peers and collaborators. His work is awash in bright textures and dreamy moods, whether it's electro-fused techno for Peggy Gou's Gudu Records, limber jungle for Klasse Wrecks or dubby dancehall for Sound Metaphors. At Wonderfruit festival in December, he played a thrilling live set of spacey techno and loopy acid, infusing rich sound design into elastic groove. His stamina and enjoyment of music is tangible—he could probably play all night long and still be raring to go. After learning classical piano, guitar and trumpet in his early years, he taught himself to compose and produce. He's now determi

In the music video for her new single with Manni Dee, Manuka Honey embarks on a money heist, robbing a venue with a comically tiny Louis Vuitton bag. Wearing a barely-there outfit, her cutesy goth girl demeanour and memeworthy one-liners capture many facets of modern-day pop culture. Whether through her music, fashion or astrology practice, the artist, born Marissa Malik, speaks to a large demographic of fans. Her sound is a composite of club genres from across the globe—everything from baile funk to gqom to pop edits. She he describes herself as an "unhinged, hostile girl" and is known for unfettered self-expression. "When you come to my sets, often, my tit will accidentally fall out or I'll step on the decks," she once told RA. Malik brings a sort of sensual chaos to the dance floor. Her DJ sets and productions are rooted in hot and humid rhythms that often distort into acrobatic shapes or blend into one another in a maximalist approach. Last year's Machete / 777 for Club Romantico combined elements of reg

Whoever Client_03 is—their official bio says "neither human nor machine"—they certainly love electro. In the interview below, they say making it is "all I do." The stubbornly anonymous project has been waking waves across continents and scenes, introducing audiences used to dubstep, drum & bass and trap to the distinctive joys of electro. Through a series of self-releases dating back to 2019, Client_03 has earned a fanbase with simple graphics and wonderfully jargon-y titles—"Prosperity Stream Divider," "Interpersonal Relationship Assessment"—that more than live up to the genre pastiche with genuinely funky electro grooves. Pitched between loose and robotic, their tracks are what we call rollers: stackable, interlockable and reliable. This RA Podcast was recorded live at last year's Bass Coast Festival, where the masked producer's set was among the most anticipated. They—or it—didn't disappoint, and here we've got 60 minutes-plus of smooth and occasionally raucous electro that eventually mutates into dubstep

Ariel Zetina is as charming as she is talented—one of the many reasons she was named "Chicagoan of the Year for Pop Music" by the Chicago Tribune last month. A straight shooter with strong principles, her witty personality shines through on social media and in person. She radiates both best friend and boss energy. Musically, she wears her heart on her sleeve, infusing her personality into her DJing and production. Her sets and mixes are adventurous, moving from hard to soft to playful with precision. From producing theatre shows and opening for Beyoncé to releasing her RA-recommended debut album on Local Action in 2022, the smartbar resident approaches each venture with meaning and depth. That LP explored the complex experience of being a Belizean-American trans woman, using fiery house and techno to express vulnerability and triumph. Ariel Zetina's multifaceted personality is on full display in her RA podcast. There's baile funk-infused techno, crisp drum & bass and plenty of tracks from queer producers f

Soul Summit is a New York institution. The DJ trio have been putting on a summer festival in Brooklyn's Fort Greene park for well over a decade now, and those gatherings have become a yearly house music pilgrimage for fans from all over the Five Boroughs. The party embodies the ethos of house music: free for everyone, open to families both blood and chosen, a place where everyone is welcome to groove (or just relax) to uplifting, old-school dance music with inspiring lyrics and bumping basslines. Sadiq Bellamy, Tabu and Jeff Mendoza have created something truly special, and more and more lately, they've been spreading their gospel outside the park, too. They've become residents at Nowadays, where this RA Podcast was recorded as part of a Mister Sunday party. It was also released as part of the Mister Saturday Night's cassette box set to celebrate the party's 15th birthday. This one features an hour of the cassette's 90-minute runtime, plus an additional 20 minutes only available here. It captures this trio a

Purelink have been described more than once as an "ambient boy band." (They themselves say "jam band.") It's not meant dismissively—the American trio purposefully mean to function as a band, even if their main instruments are laptops. Ambient might not quite cut it as a descriptor, though. The group's music crosses eras and scenes, touching on the late '90s clicks & cuts boom as well as the billowy ambient techno put out by labels like 3XL, West Mineral Ltd. and NAFF. Their most recent LP, Signs, released on enigmatic imprint Peak Oil (and one of our favourite albums of 2023), is especially impressive, made of stuttering rhythms and glassy textures. In other words, it's ambient-not-ambient. While members Concave Reflection, kindtree and Millia have all made excellent music on their own, something special happens when they come together. Purelink's RA Podcast is another stellar contribution to our post-New Year's tradition, where we highlight a more laid-back sound to soothe weary minds and frazzled brain c

Dr Banana is a name that commands a lot of respect in certain corners of the dance music world. The man has his Ph.D in record digging—not literally, mind you, but play along—and key to his success is the sense of fun, joy and ecstasy he brings to his DJing. UK garage historian? Sure. Blinding DJ? Definitely. He likes to play records you've never heard before, records that not only make you dance but might remind you of some of your favourite, formative records of yore. The UK artist started out with a fashion line and some records and ended up an influential label boss, collector and DJ. He made his name with skippy, retro UK garage—sometimes from new producers and sometimes unearthed from the archives—and nicely coincided with the genre's explosion in popularity. Since then, he's highlighted everything from old-school German garage to new-school producers like K-LONE. His DJ sets have only become more adventurous and, crucially, even more bumping. Jungle, R&B, tech house, you name it. His RA Podcast zeroes

Quest's RA Podcast starts slowly, with a thrum of synths that feels like watching a rocket take off in slow motion. Before you know it, you're in outer space, floating through zero gravity with waves of synths and gentle breakbeats. The Italian DJ is a premiere selector in the world of digging for rare records, but his outré taste shouldn't be confused with willful obscurity. He's a beloved DJ partly because of his approachability. There's a serene, early '90s feel to RA.915 that's reminiscent of some of the earliest and best ambient techno. When he's not DJing, Quest runs the label La Nota Del Diablo. He's only put out two records, including this year's Red Tears EP from his dear friend (and fellow esteemed DJ) Christian AB, which RA's Henry Ivry described as "a careful balance of late-night tension and early morning twilight." That's not a bad way to describe Quest's RA Podcast—if it's not a soundtrack for an astral journey, then it's perfect for an afterhours, for when the laid-back vibes come to a simmer

Detroit dance music thrives on intergenerational connections. In the late '70s and early '80s, the late Ken Collier mixed disco, soul and early electronic dance music in eye-opening DJ sets that left a mark on up-and-coming artists like Delano Smith. Once Smith established himself in the city's explosive techno community, he, in turn, influenced soon-to-be legends like Juan Atkins, Eddie Fowlkes, Jeff Mills, Norm Talley, Mike "Agent X" Clarke and others. Now an elder statesman, Smith is etched into our history books as a crucial contributor to Detroit dance music, both house and techno. He's known especially for the Detroit beatdown sound he pioneered alongside Talley and Clark—slower, sexier records than what Detroit techno is generally associated for. (The trio even put out an RA Podcast under the name in 2010.) It's more recently that Smith has become known as a producer. He started his own label, Mixmode Recordings, and became a regular on Berlin imprint Sushitech, where he released many of his albums,

It would be no exaggeration to say that 33EMYBW is one of the most original club music producers we've heard in recent years. In addition to being a talented visual artist and a bass player in the experimental band Duck Fight Goose, her solo productions are a highlight of Shanghai’s bustling underground scene—home to forward-thinking artists like Tzusing, Osheyack, Swimful and Hyph11e—moving with their own rhythmic language. She has a lexicon of drum sounds borrowed from all over the world, including tablas, bongos and mallets. As 33EMYBW, she puts together strange, multi-limbed rhythms that bring to mind images of dancing spiders and insects, something she addressed directly on 2019's showstopping Arthropods LP, released on the influential SVBKVLT label. As she says in the interview below, you basically need more than two legs to dance to her music. Maybe even eight. Her music deals with creatures that vary from the mythical to the everyday (her first album was called Golem). On her latest record Holes Of S

What some refer to broadly as "Latin club music"—from dembow to raptor house—is having a moment on dance floors around the world. Since making his mark at Manchester's legendary Swing Ting parties in the 2010s, Florentino, who is of Colombian heritage, has melded high-pressure perreo, cumbia and other styles with high BPMs and fat-bottomed bass in his DJ sets and productions. The result is an ultra-kinetic, cross-cultural sound that's influenced by UK soundsystem culture as much as the sounds of the massive, diverse scenes across Latin America. The pan-Latin influences are a big part of Florentino's sound palette, but they by no means define him. Interspersed with dancehall and baile funk are dubstep, pummelling techno, house, UK funky, grime and more. Over the years, his experimental side has also crystallized, whether it's through the deep, sometimes trippy, reggaeton of Sangre Nueva, his collaborative project with Kelman Duran and DJ Python, his sought-after bootlegs of deconstructed guaracha, or the rel