Music

The first time you hear a KI/KI set, you don’t think “wow, nice selection.” You think: “Oh. This person is dangerous.” Dangerous in the way old rave flyers were dangerous. In the way acid lines feel illegal even when they’re not. In the way your heart starts racing before your brain can say calm down . She drags the 90s rave spirit into the present, straps it to a faster BPM, and whispers, “You missed this. But I brought it back for you.” And suddenly you’re dancing like rent

AEREA doesn’t make techno. They make feelings you weren’t ready to feel at 4am . Somewhere between a broken heart and a warehouse speaker about to explode, AEREA lives. Their sound is what happens when trance grows up, gets emotionally unavailable, and starts writing love letters to the dancefloor instead of people. There’s always this tension in their music . Like two souls chasing each other through neon fog, never quite touching, but always dancing dangerously close. It’s

I don’t listen to DJ Cloudy. I orbit her. She doesn’t play music so much as she rearranges your internal organs with bass and bad decisions. Somewhere deep in the sweat and strobe lights, she unleashes schranz, fast, brutal, industrial, completely unbothered by your comfort. It’s the kind of techno that doesn’t ask how your day was. It grabs you by the throat and tells you to keep up. Cloudy’s sets are a controlled collapse. Heavy kicks, relentless BPMs, distorted grooves tha

If you’ve been anywhere near the internet recently or just heard suspicious bass rumbling under your bed at 3AM , chances are it was EsDeeKid . Liverpool’s most mysterious export since… well, Liverpool itself. EsDeeKid is the kind of artist who drops music like he’s pressing a self-destruct button. No promo. No warning. No “out now!”. Just absolute sonic chaos hitting your playlist while you wonder if you accidentally subscribed to a secret society. And the mask? Iconic. He w

There’s something dangerously magnetic about Charlotte de Witte. She doesn’t just play techno, she becomes  it. Born in Ghent, Belgium , in 1992, Charlotte started sneaking her way into underground clubs as a teenager, hiding behind the alias Raving George  to dodge the bias of a male-dominated scene. But when the smoke cleared, she dropped the mask and what stepped out wasn’t just a DJ. It was a revolution in black boots. Her sound is pure hypnosis: stripped-down, acidic, a

Some kids grow up dreaming of being astronauts. Central Cee just wanted to survive West London and maybe drop a bar so cold it’d make the block stop breathing for a second. Born Oakley Neil H.T. Caesar-Su , he came out the womb with a hoodie and a trust issue. Growing up in Shepherd’s Bush , life was less “coming-of-age movie,” more “don’t get caught outside after 8.” His dad had him vibing to old-school rap and reggae before he could spell “Cench,” while the streets taught h

If you ever wondered what happens when you mix unapologetic Punjabi attitude, new-age Hip-Hop, and global ambition, meet SMG , short for Sardari Music Gang  — a Mumbai-born music trio now operating across time zones and accents from Australia and the UK . Three Blokes, Two Continents, One Mission , To Make Punjabi Hip-Hop Unmissable Comprising three firecrackers Big Kay , Baggh-E , and Farmaan. T his isn't your typical "three friends who made a group in college" story. No, th

No Filters, No Apologies, Just Bars If Indian hip-hop had a warning label, it might just say “Seedhe Maut inside: approach with open ears and a thick skin.” The Delhi-based duo Encore ABJ (Abhijay Negi)  and Calm (Siddhant Sharma)  aren’t here to hand out party anthems or TikTok jingles. Since forming in 2015 , they’ve been on a lyrical rampage, cutting through the fluff with verses that are equal parts heady, heavy, and hilarious. Seedhe Maut (which literally means "straight

One of the first truly monumental releases of 2025 arrived with The Weeknd’s Hurry Up Tomorrow . Initially set for a January 24 drop, the album was pushed back a week in light of the devastating wildfires that swept across Los Angeles. But once it landed—and with a massive North American tour alongside Playboi Carti and Mike Dean on the way—Abel season was in full swing. From the opening track, it was clear The Weeknd wasn’t holding back. The first line on “Wake Me Up” — “All