To The Moon And Back 2025

Luvstruck

Luvstruck (ZIGGY X Remix)

Oxygen

Stream/download here: https://orcd.co/blackandyellow

Looking to bring a completely new twist to a popular early 2010s anthem, Olly James, Marnik and 3rd Wall are fusing their talents to bring ‘Black & Yellow (You Know What It Is)’ to the Smash The House release radar. You don’t want to miss this one!

Originally released back in 2011 by Wiz Khalifa, the three artists are reviving a nostalgic anthem and pulling it back into the modern music sphere, this time with an electrifying electronic touch. Armed with the raw, hardstyle-esque energy, this track marries the worlds of hip-hop and electronic in a wonderfully unique way. A fusion of underground grit and mainstage-ready vibes, it delivers a raw sonic flair, perfect for the adrenaline-fueled moments in sets around the world. 

British DJ and producer Olly James has been a pioneer in his unique corner of the electronic sphere ever since he burst onto the scene. Not afraid to push the boundaries when it comes to his music and live sets, this has made him a fast fan-favourite, with all eyes on him as he continues to dominate. Italian duo Marnik are also no strangers to success. With multiple Platinum and Gold records under their belt, they know the ultimate recipe to cooking hits. 3rd Wall’s collaborations with the likes of Timmy Trumpet, Steve Aoki, Blasterjaxx and more have catapulted his name into the lights, with much more to come.

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Black & Yellow (You Know What It Is)

Le Freak (Where I Wanna Be)

Paradiso

The Launch

Shake That

Allume, allume, la nuit s’ouvre
On monte, on monte, rien ne nous couvre

Mains levées dans l’éclat qui brûle
Les lumières coulent comme des bulles
Chaque battement nous fait décoller
Logdrums chauds sous nos pieds

Un cercle en or tourne autour de nous
La fête nous tire, on devient fous

Allume tout, la fête s’enflamme
Allume tout, la fête s’enflamme
On monte haut dans le ciel en flamme
On monte haut dans le ciel en flamme

Monte, monte, monte
Feu dans les veines, fête vivante
Monte, monte, monte
La nuit nous pousse, on s’élève ensemble

Soleil cranberry, lune citrouille
Chaque couleur dans nos corps bouillonne
Souvenirs flash, dansent sur nos peaux
On s’attache au tempo

Un cercle en or tourne autour de nous
La fête nous tire, on devient fous

Allume tout, la fête s’enflamme
Allume tout, la fête s’enflamme
On monte haut dans le ciel en flamme
On monte haut dans le ciel en flamme

Monte, monte, monte
La fête est vivante
Monte, monte, monte
On touche le ciel maintenant

Allume tout, la fête s’enflamme
Allume tout, la fête s’enflamme
On monte haut dans le ciel en flamme
On monte haut dans le ciel en flamme

Allume tout (French Dance Pop reload)

In the battered veins of Sarajevo, a city gripped by war, life pulses under siege. The Miljacka River flows beneath shattered bridges and smoldering ruins, its rhythms shaped by artillery and desperate radio signals. In dark basements, Ada performs, her fingers coaxing defiant sounds from battered gear, while masked Kian weaves heavy distortion—each beat a memory, every drop a silent scream of resistance.

Outside, the threat shifts and multiplies. The city survives not just endless shelling but the emergence of a new horror: whispers of rich men from Europe and America, who pay for the chance to hunt Sarajevo’s civilians for sport. They arrive through secret deals and shadowy payments, granted rifles and vantage points by corrupt warlords. The myth of “sniper tourists” becomes a chilling reality for those who must change routes daily and avoid standing too close to windows.

As fear thickens in the city, Ada’s underground sanctuary fills with stories: friends lost to random shells, neighbors gone from sniper fire. Those who gather seek refuge in the music, breathing in the heavy, strobing frequencies that try to reclaim hope from beneath the horror. The music changes. Ada now samples foreign radio chatter—chilling accents, laughter, gunfire—twisting them into the soundtrack of survival. Her sets throb with anger and paranoia. Every song carries the ghosts of those hunted for money, their lives sold and forgotten by outsiders.

Journalists report rumors: some shooters pay tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars for a weekend behind enemy lines. War becomes spectacle. Out in the streets, the crowd thins with each passing day, but the underground remains—thinner, yes, but fierce and unwilling to be erased. Ada overlays field recordings of survivors’ voices, mothers calling lost children, analog cries against digital beats. Each performance is commemorative and rebellious: a dark requiem for the lost and a warning for the living.

A rare blackout silent nights, Kian triggers a remix of a Bosnian folk song distorted and haunting. The music softens, blending sorrow with hope. Even in darkness, arms lift, eyes close, and the crowd—united in pain and defiance—clings to the last patch of ground untainted by violence. The truth of foreign mercenaries radiates in every track Ada creates, but so does the resilience of those who remain.

When questions finally come—who paid for these deaths, who remembers—the answers echo in Ada’s music and the city’s battered heart. Above the devastation, beneath the concrete, the rhythm persists: a pulse of unwilling ascendancy, the sound of memory and survival. In Sarajevo’s darkest days, music becomes the only voice untouched by blood money, the only hope that endures when nothing else is left.


Pulse Of Sarajevo (On Ada's Paths)

Never See you Again

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Le Freak (Where I Wanna Be)

BLASTERJAXX

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