Originally released in 2006. "Tapped" has been blowing minds at raves for years -- its arpeggiated electro riffs bouncing against the bass line and tuff percussion. Vocalled on Skream! by JME, the hottest MC in grime, "Tapped" has "anthem" written all over it. "Dutch Flowerz" has a summery skank to it with reggae horns and a deep, dubby feel.

Originally released in 2006, available again. This is the debut album from Skream, Croydon's musical wonderkid. At 15 he discovered making music, and 5 years after, he helped to change the course of UK urban music, building the foundations of dubstep, the UK's most talked-about musical genre. Skream's clipped, techy minimal style has quickly become his trademark. Long before grime existed, it reflected dark, murky streets and sinister nights, the sound of decaying London and its frustrated communities, stuck out in satellite towns and sink estates with nothing but a PC and freely-available software to channel their frustration into. His signature tune, the scene's anthem "Midnight Request Line" is an explosion of electro arpeggios and dub sub-bass. It's a tune you can sing along to. From the opening haunting strings of "Tortured Soul," which calls to mind the work of Philip Glass or Aphex Twin, to the more optimistic chords and guitar of "Dutch Flowerz," to the heavy vocal cuts featuring Warrior Queen and JME, and the heavy digi-sounds of "Auto-Dub," it's clear that this is a sonic visionary at work.

Kevin Martin, under a dozen-or-so aliases and across numerous genres, has been screwing around with deep bass for well over a decade. 1997's Tapping the Conversation-- a concept album conceived as a surrogate soundtrack to Francis Ford Coppola's The Conversation-- was his first release as the Bug, and in retrospect, it sounds like an alternate-universe prototype of dubstep, based on instrumental hip-hop rather than UK garage rhythms. By the time he issued his 2003 follow-up Pressure, he'd already charged headlong into heavy digital ragga, building a repertoire of grimy, distorted beats that mutated dancehall into a glitchy, blown-out commotion.
Martin's latest Bug album, London Zoo, is very much in keeping with that permutation, which stands out amidst the recent wave of dubstep in a way that makes Burial's Untrue sound like Music for Airports. But it also takes the Bug's work into a somewhat cleaner, less abrasive area-- it streamlines the sound, shaves away the distortion, and draws most of its impact from the rhythms themselves. Of course, "less abrasive" doesn't necessarily mean it hit any less hard: Martin knows how and when to drop a heavy beat directly on top of you, and there's a carefully crafted tension throughout this record, no matter how sparse or dense that beat actually is.
Sparseness and density tend to work in tandem on London Zoo's strongest tracks: Bass hits at machine-gun intervals, leaving deep, tube-station echoes disintegrating in its wake and giving a number of these tracks a simultaneous sensation of freeness and claustrophobia. Reverberating, distorted voices and spare synth melodies close in on you even as they recede into the distance, and the rhythms are so pervasive and locked in that after a while you start hearing the spaces in between as much as you're hearing the beats themselves.
Martin has also enlisted an army of top-notch singers and toasters for the record, ranging from dancehall veterans like Tippa Irie to Burial and Kode9 collaborator Spaceape. However, three names in particular stand out. First, there's Roll Deep member Flowdan, whose grumbling, elastic baritone contributions to the chaingun-rhythm "Jah War" (heard on the fantastic 2006 Planet Mu comp Mary Anne Hobbs Presents the Warrior Dubz) and last year's sinster, headknock single "Skeng" show up again here. Flowdan is also at the center of the manic "Warning", which features one of the album's best hooks and a hell of a rampaging performance; there's one cool bit about halfway through where he ratchets the intensity in his voice down to a conversational rumble to match a moment in the song where the bass draws back, then resumes shouting right when it drops back in.
Singer/toaster Ricky Ranking shows up on three tracks as well, and his vocal range-- switching from sweet melodies to foreboding chants-- is impressive, even if he's best suited to the slower numbers (especially the dirgelike closer "Judgement"). And the two appearances from Warrior Queen are knockouts: "Poison Dart", originally released as a single last year, is ruffneck feminism ("Though me na sling no gun, a boy think sey me soft/ But me a real poison dart") delivered with a sharp, wailing sneer over more low end than most MCs could contend with, and "Insane", which augments a chirpier, more buoyant flow with a smoothly-sung chorus and a few out-there adlibs, including a funny little riff on Tears for Fears' "Mad World".
The only caveat concerning London Zoo is how far it might skew away from your traditional notions of dancehall-- and even then, it helps to recognize that, if anything, this record is another manifestation of how London has transformed the sounds of Jamaica to its own ends, from 2-tone to jungle to dubstep. It's a tense record, sure, but that tension is palpable in a crossover-friendly way, invoking Babylon and fire while avoiding the more problematic aspects of "slack" lyrics. It's angry and ferocious, but always triumphant: When it threatens to bust out your windows and rip holes in your speakers, it crackles with the kind of force that makes you want to punch the air as hard as your subwoofers do.
----- Pitchfork

This time we are going down for Itay Berger journey as Kukan-Dub-Lagan second album. "Step Ina Rasta Step" is actually the first release of the new label - Mikelabella Records, which established on 2007, in Israel capital's city - Jerusalem. This label has developed by Itay Berger him self with target to expose unique music with original sounds. So, almost three years were pass since "Life is nice" (Kukan's debut album), which got tons of feedbacks, and now is the time to check the new materials of MR. Berger has to deliver..

BY NATTY MORRISON
One of the most difficult things to do in music is carve out a style all your own. All the heavy-hitters have done it; you have to be able to pull from all your influences without letting their voices bleed too deeply into your music. That task can be even more difficult for electronic artists. The traditional process of dropping sampled music and vocals in and out of tracks can lead critics to accuse them of a musical-identity heist. For Pretty Lights (aka Derek Vincent Smith), it’s nothing he’s not used to.
"One thing I've run into a lot, is people that immediately judge artists who sample as music thieves without enough of their own creativity to make good music on their own,” Smith said. “Now, with some producers, I'd say that might not be far from the truth, but I strive to always use samples in a way that brings new life and feeling to them.”
And it’s really never been a problem for him. Pretty Lights is instantly recognizable; whether you’ve heard the song before or not, within moments you KNOW it’s him. He’s soulful without losing and edge and has been making waves in the electronic community for years, with heavily spun tracks like “Sunday School” and “Finally Moving.” Smith is, if nothing else, a style unto himself, and he’s out to prove that on his terrific new EP “Spilling Over Every Side.”
Opening with a dreamy piano line, the EP’s first cut “High School Art Class” is classic Pretty Lights. Raw and gritty without leaving out any of the soul, Smith get right to work piling up the layers. As the track begins to build steam in the opening seconds, strains of a loping acoustic blend with blurts of distortion, swooping synth lines and horn stabs. Once the drums kick in, the listener is instantly transported to a head-nodding paradise, while the piano’s blue notes tumble over a soulful vocal sample that promises “Soon I will be gone from the trouble of this world.” That’s one of the most impressive features of any Pretty Lights album: he can be emotionally affecting without even realizing it.
The album gets heavier – and glitchier - on the next song, “Hot Like Dimes.” Building from pulsing synth bass and a rapid arpeggiator, the song explodes into a cacophony of hip hop vocals, grinding electric guitar chords and blasts of digitized squeals. It can be overwhelming, but it’s a thrilling ride nonetheless.
Smith finds beauty in “Let the World Hurry By,” letting an acoustic strum stretch out in front of him. It feels like watching an other-worldly deity paint in a summer sunset, beginning with earnestness and focus, until the swirling hues and tones become all too much to take. And then, without saying a word, he takes you gently by the hand, prepares for a brisk jump, and then launches you into outer space. Contemplative, down-tempo electro is soon replaced by intergalactic wobble-bass and shattering snare hits. The drums skitter along and all vocal samples are put aside. This isn’t time for Smith to hearken back to a forgotten world of blues and soul; he’s firmly in control and he knows it’s his time to shine. Once he’s finished building star-encrusted towers of thick synth blasts, he brings it all back home, finishing off with that old acoustic strum and brilliantly placed vocal riffs.
“Look Both Ways” is a nimble cut. It begins with a smoky jazz piano, while vinyl static drags through the background. It feels vintage and fresh at the same time, like a moment of déjà vu just barely out of reach. The drums groove along at an up-tempo beat, all the while Smith is deftly dropping in and out of small melodic sections and sampled pieces. It’s subtle, but noticeable if you dig a little deeper: even when he’s complex he never leads you astray.
“Forever Lost” and “A Million Tomorrows” round out the disc. The former is an explosive and incendiary fist-in-the-air cut, with the cut-up vocal line of a soulful singer trading off the lead with bombastic horn screams. The latter is a moment of cinematic conceptualization. It sounds like a slow-motion montage in a pivotal scene of a classic gangster movie, beginning in a quiet place and eventually rising to an intense crescendo at the album’s close. It’s soulful; it’s dark; it’s over-the-top in the best way possible. Essentially, it’s Pretty Lights. And who would want it any other way?

Kieran Hebden (born 1977), best known by the stage name Four Tet, is an English musician. Hebden first came to prominence as a member of the band Fridge before establishing himself as a solo artist.

It’s been over two and a half years since Zomby released his debut album, Where Were U In ‘92?, a rave record evoking that titular period. Following a series of releases that switched from the melancholic to the menacing, it marked him out as an unpredictable, underground hero.
Having signed a worldwide deal with 4AD, the wait for new material is almost over. Dedication, a wholly different record to its predecessor, marks Zomby's return from his hiatus with typical style; a dark and absorbing listen that engulfs the listener, running between sparse electronics, techno hooks and minimal piano riffs.
FORMATS:CD: CAD3119CD12" LP: CAD3119DOWNLOAD: EAD3119A