akbian

Only a handful of years in, Mankiyan is already a sure favourite of the Belgian scene. Her mixes are full of depth, spatiality and intuition, spanning across heady dub, rave, UK bass and grime. Mankiyan is injecting community-driven, unpretentious and unadulterated love for rave culture back into nightlife. Enjoy!

ITPS102 MANKIYAN

Mastered by: Soma
Artwork by: Valentina Canga
Photo by: Lucia Gasti

Through the poplars, different echoes resonate.
Those old roots are already tired of the concrete jungles, of the indiscriminate usurpation of what once belonged to everyone, and of that trivial exploitation of the eternal for the most ephemeral purposes that so abound.
Does no one see the inherent brilliance in each moment, the hidden magic behind every 'simple' act? It is in that glow, behind the mirror, where the true reality hides, and no one seems to want to notice it; no one wants to see beyond their own reflection.
Or so it seemed. Little by little, curiosity, for lack of a better resource and having already discarded the rest of the options, seems to be having an effect on the disoriented masses in search of a direction. And while many have already dared to look and have even been on this side for a long time, there had never been an interest of this magnitude.
God is dead, the poets exclaim, and it must be because of this that the illusory balance that sustained banal existence lost its unstable stability.
For those who know how to listen, the trumpets that announce the coming of a different panorama resonate, where the old values ​​are no longer of any use.
Perhaps the poets are right.
Perhaps it was that old center that sought to give meaning to what has none, that with symbols tried to represent the greatest of abstractions, which retained a species with as much potential as can be imagined.
Will the news that the poets so much announce and that the trumpets keep exposing to the ears of those who are well attached to the greatest of illusions ever arrive? Will those deaf ears want to hear it?
It's just a matter of waiting and dancing, to the rhythm of the moon, while we do so. Thus leaving them, at least, a small trace of what it feels like to dwell behind the almost imperceptible veil that separates us.

Enjoy.

akbian

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