Back catalogue: House

Review: Henri Bergmann and Wennink's Guardian Angel marks an impressive debut on Crosstown Rebels, delivering a track that expertly fuses melody with depth. Bergmann's knack for sculpting rich, atmospheric landscapes is matched by Wennink's haunting vocals, creating a piece that feels both expansive and intimate. It's the kind of collaboration that hints at a shared vision without ever losing individual identity. The original track opens with textured percussion, slowly unfurling into an emotive soundscape as Wennink's vocals hover above like an ethereal guide. There's a melancholic undertone, but it's balanced by an uplifting drive, showcasing their ability to blend light and dark seamlessly. The remixes take Guardian Angel into uncharted territories. Stimming strips things back, opting for a more minimalist approach that sharpens the focus on rhythmic intensity, while his subtle use of effects amplifies the track's ethereal quality. It's a remix that feels lean but still full of intent. Hardt Antoine, on the other hand, plunges deeper into the shadows, pushing the bassline forward and letting synths stretch into eerie, sci-fi realms. His reworking is darker, stranger, and ultimately a satisfying close to the EP. With this release, Bergmann and Wennink add another strong entry to the Crosstown Rebels roster, proving that their partnership is one to keep watching.

Review: Eight further sonic spirits are conjured on the seventh edition in Damian Lazarus' annual compilation series. Emphasising deep house and techno grooves with a hypnotic flavour, the procurement here is exemplarily brooding; Dino Lenny's 'I Have Sampled Father' marks a sure turn away from the openers' cleaner-cut mesmerisms with a smoky, funk-inflected haze, bringing rhythm guitar and paternal murmurations to a surreal montage. The monologuing mood continues on the equal highlight that is Upercent's 'Where Are You', whilst Enamour's 'Jackpot' rounds out the show with the record's only brightly-lit minimal triller. The record is marked by sensuous, distant, familiar voices throughout.