John Talabot @ MakingTime 2024

a return to the podcast series & welcoming close comrade Maxibon for 2 hours of tripped out, dubby psychedelic groove 🌀🩰 hot tip !

maxibon

It is not easy to find Saphira, and it is even harder to leave. If it so chooses, the city will appear first as a quivering mirage on the horizon, second as a blinding stone mirror, and third as a sprawling maze whose sounds and sensations embrace the traveler in a slow and languid frenzy. Quite famously, it is home to countless locked eyes and spellbound hearts. It is a place whose deep currents of longing, like the sound of its ocean shore, seem to rumble and hiss under the surface of every word and gesture, in every bead of sweat that blooms from the glimmering skin of its people.

Saphira is at all times caught between a low-lying sun to the west and a glowing moon to the east. They hang above the skyline with an eerie stillness, watching the city’s tireless creatures writhe together in tenderness and sin, casting upon them a pale, silvery gold light that hangs heavy in the humid air. It is in the tension of this peculiar light and its slender, tangled shadows that Saphira’s longing grows dense and time thickens within its walls. Traveler and resident alike are suspended in an endless eros, caught tightly between pain and pleasure, between the sting of saltwater in one’s eyes and the sticky sweetness of ripe fruit on one’s lips. 

Perhaps this is why Saphira’s radios and televisions stutter with phrases and images so ghostly yet so intimately familiar, why its dusty buildings seem always to crumble so gloriously yet never collapse, why around every corner there is a street that so closely resembles one of a distant and loving memory, and why the curling flakes of paint on its walls and facades will reach out against the heat without fading or falling. It is a city inside of want and outside of time.

Text by Devon Hansen, Photo by CCL

Invisible Cities Ⅰ: 𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓪

Tune into Coby Sey's show on a Monday afternoon for a masterful selection of his own tunes alongside favourites and influences. Sedated hip-hop, drone, ambience and other glacial and sludge sounds. 
Find the full tracklist and related episodes on NTS: https://www.nts.live/shows/coby-sey/episodes/coby-sey-21st-july-2025

Coby Sey w/ The Garbage Man 210725

For RA.1000, DJ Sprinkles' first mix in over a decade is a powerful meditation on the genocide in Gaza.

Dance music often relies on simple narratives: release, escape, unity. But those narratives can often feel inadequate, and even at times, hollow. Or, as Terre Thaemlitz might bluntly put it, just "shitty."

For her first mix in around 15 years, Terre Thaemlitz AKA DJ Sprinkles, challenges us to think differently. "I felt this 1000th podcast should reflect the moment in which it was made," she told us in her Q&A.

And what is this moment? Every day since Israel's 2023 assault on Gaza began, an average of 28 children have been killed. That's an entire classroom, every day, for over 600 days (at the time of writing). It's a staggering figure that only captures a fragment of the listless cruelty imposed on the strip.

Faced with such a genocide, what can music really do? How political can it truly be?  For their RA.1000, Thaemlitz gives us an unflinching rebuke to the idea that music should provide escapism. The mix weaves ambient fragments and jazz passages, woven around samples from Israeli media and the voices of outspoken Jewish critics like Gabor Maté and Norman Finkelstein. 

The result is not just a protest, but a document of our time. For Terre Thaemlitz, music is never just music. Her RA.1000 serves as a reminder that in an age of relentless suffering, the most political act is to reject the illusion of escape, and search for something greater.

Read the interview and find the tracklist at ra.co/podcast/1013. Listen to all RA.1000 mixes, as well as the complete history of the RA Podcast, at https://1000.ra.co

RA.1000 Terre Thaemlitz / DJ Sprinkles

Andrew Weatherall's first official posthumous mix. The only b2b DJ Harvey ever agreed to. Six hours at Trouw. This one's special.

When mulling which direction to go in for RA's 1000th mix celebrations, many options came to mind. Some shadowy character 2-stepping around the fringe of our collective consciousness? An impossible-level IDM icon?

All tempting. But, ultimately, we are a DJ-forward publication and this is a DJ mix series. It felt truer to the history of the RA Podcast to release deep vault material from a time when the world of niche records felt different, tighter, more discrete.

The fourth-longest mix in the series' history is an unrepeatable marathon set recorded in 2012 at a superclub that no longer exists. 2012, incidentally, is farther away from 2025 than 2012 was from 2000... if we have to clock it, so do you.

It's the coming together of one British icon who passed away in 2020, and another whose time on the road has scaled back considerably as of late. DJ Harvey agreed to exactly one b2b set in his life: this one, with Andrew Weatherall.

The night took place at Trouw, an Amsterdam club already considered legendary before it shuttered its doors in the opening hours of 2015, as part of an RA series anchored around start-to-close combinations. Harvey was at the peak of an irresistible career second act, which dovetailed with a disco revival that dominated clubs for years. Weatherall, with infinite brownie points stockpiled from the '90s, remained everyone's favourite debonair psychonaut. 

What follows is 385 scintillating minutes of arpeggiated chug and slow-cresting climaxes: a moment when the resting heart rate of dance floors plunged lower than any comparable point in the 21st century. A masterclass, entirely self-contained in audio form.

If you've got time to spare, a fun side game is sussing out who plays what. A disco-dub cover of Echo & the Bunnymen? Smart money's on Weatherall. Exuberant EQ'ing of The Isley Brothers? Gotta be Harvey. As for the low 'n slow, lightly spangled house that was all the rage in the early 2010s (think Maxxi Soundsystem, Disco Bloodbath, Rub & Tug, C.O.M.B.I. and Full Pupp), it's anyone's guess. 127 BPM feels practically like an F1 car.

When we kicked off our RA.1000 campaign, we outlined a few goals: tick off a handful of long-awaited dream guests, honour architects who shaped the world around us and deliver recordings you truly can't hear anywhere else. Full send.

DJing and the mythmaking around it has undergone a quantum leap since 2012, let alone 2006, 1996 or 1989. For those of us who were kicking around in the former, there's a creeping melancholy that our prime is fast becoming a matter of historical record. The killing moon really did come too soon. 

Where will electronic music, DJ sets or any of this be in 2044? Hard to say. Best not to overthink that one. Instead, we want to say thanks to all contributors on the series so far. Now enjoy luxuriating in the company of two of the greatest to ever do it, together, for the first and last time.⁠ – Gabriel Szatan (Editor, RA)

@andrew-weatherall

Read the interview with DJ Harvey and Andrew Weatherall's family at https://ra.co/podcast/1016. Listen to all RA.1000 mixes, as well as the complete history of the RA Podcast, at https://1000.ra.co

RA.1000 DJ Harvey & Andrew Weatherall

Recording at YCAM STUDIO A

’00s CD-inspired minimal and techno from Matthew Kent

"a few tracks [are] from ‘00s era CDs i’ve found forgotten about in a weird/cool CD only store in Sheffield that has that satisfying ex-HMV racking you can flip through at high speed. no greater feeling than leaving there after an hour with a little envelope sized brown paper bag containing a saint etienne cd, some terrible/great chillout compilation, and a ken ishii thing you’ve not heard before for all of £10."

@blowinguptheworkshop
@shortspanrecords

Interview + tracklist: https://www.lowendtheorists.com/theory-therapy-mixes/short-span

Theory Therapy 82: Short Span

Shhhhh @ MAKING TIME ♾️ 2025

In Autumn 2016, Reading prison opened to the public for the first time for an Artangel project in which a 30-strong showcase of artists and writers share works in response to De Profundis. 

Oscar Wilde was incarcerated in Reading Prison between 1895 and 1897, enduring the Separate System, a harsh penal regime designed to eliminate any contact between prisoners. During this period he wrote one of his last great works: an extended letter to his lover Lord Alfred Douglas, later published as De Profundis.

The actor Stephen Rea returned to cell C.3.3 in HM Reading Prison to perform De Profundis. The reading was preceded by a feature documentary where writer and director Neil Bartlett examined the conditions under which Wilde was writing.

Stephen Rea reads Oscar Wilde's De Profundis for BBC Radio 4

Barney Rowntree