signall_FM mix by JakubX

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Under The Eye / Dream Within A Dream

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Section X Kumarachi 'Under The Eye' [Locked Up Music]

Scartip returns to Off-License Records with the Doppelgänger Z EP.

Release date: 18/04/2023
Cop it here: https://cygnusmusic.link/opa7yya

Artist: Scartip
Soundcloud: @scartip

Label: Off-License Records
Soundcloud: @offlicenserecords

Scartip – Lowbrow Movement [Premiere]

Rumble ft. Red Fox - Sound Gangsta (Deekline, Liondub & Chatta B Remix) - [Jungle Cakes]
Dom Hz - Rio [Forthcoming Grand Theft Audio Recordings]
Run Tingz Cru ft. YT  - Born Inna Babylon (Jam Thieves Remix) [Run Tingz Recordings]
R4NS0M - Capassity [Four Corners Music]
Gravit-E - Alien Jungle [Grid Recordings]
Deekline & Specimen A ft. Warrior Queen - Ride Pon It (Liondub & Deekline Dirty VIP Remix) [Jungle Cakes]
PA - Finish the Sentence [Grid Recordings]
Bou & Telekom - Violet [Biological Beats]
Break - Who Got Da Funk [Symmetry Recordings]
Beat Merchants ft. Charlie Wilson  - Hold On (Champagne Mix)[Killa Watts]
Classifyed - Bring It Back [Natty Dub Recordings]
Whiney ft. Inja - Mission [Medschool]
Nick the Lot - In Jamaica [Jungle Cakes]
Sublow Hz ft. Frass Goovas - Kush [Dub Shotta]
Bassbrothers ft Dunk - The Purge [Souped Up]
Tyler Frost - My Way [Citate Forms]
Kleu  - Crush [Forthcoming Grand Theft Audio Recordings]
Luka - Distance [Forthcoming Grand Theft Audio Recordings]
Hologram - Make a Move [Forthcoming Grand Theft Audio Recordings]
RNCBL - Heat Alarm [Grid Recordings]
Agro - Tweeter Box (Sinexia remix) [Sub-liminal Recordings]
Gravit-E ft. StillZ - A Sense of Distortion - Grid Recordings
Courtney Melody - Bad Boy (Crossy Remix) [Jungle Cakes]

Grand Theft Audio In The Mix Vol 4 - Jfal

PA - BUBBLE COATS

Dysfunction - Butterfly Effect (Audio Entropy Out On Friday)
Sub Tactics - Mutation Audio Dub
Maykors - Four Corners Dub
Thread - Deep Cold
Nichenka Zoryana - Audio Entropy Dub
Sili ft Sammie Hall - I Need You 
Fonetick Lee - Audio Entropy Dub
Entropy - As We Sleep
Nuke - Drum Pusher Dub

The H20 DnB Show 47

Alion:  Monkey and Weasel  [Totally Roasted Digital]
Nia Archives:  Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall (Mall Grab Headbanger Remix)  [HIJINXX/Island]
Mizeyesis:  Warmth  [Yeska Beatz Unlimited]
Doctor Jeep:  Stinjan  [Unchained Recordings]
John Rolodex:  Tentacle  [Metalheadz]
Leaf:  Keep On Truckin’  [TrES-2b MUSIC]
4D & Pablo G:  Rush Hour  [Camo Tribe]
Dunk:  Circle Underground  [Vandal Records]
Montesco:  Tsurugi  [Parallel Depth]
Tryst Temps:  2.0  [Delta9 Recordings]
Waeys:  Familiar Face  [Critical Music]
iLLform:  Cracking Off Particles (Exclusive Mix)  [Intimate Venues Recordings:  https://www.beatport.com/release/the-art-of-illusion/4023890]
Subp Yao:  #13  [Unchained Recordings]
S.P.Y:  Go with the Flow  [RAM Records]
Composure:  ACCIDENTS22 
Tweakz:  Rated R  [Four Corners]
Ed:it:  Choppy  [Innerground Records]
YAANO:  Cicada  [Overview Music]
Sequences:  Barrio Funk  [Dispatch Recordings]
Caleo & Aniseed:  Pushed It Down (Missledz Remix)  [Deeper DNB]
Visages:  Polarity Code  [Flexout Audio[
Psyek:  Let Me Burn  [Deafmuted Records]
Xsonsence & Phame:  Humidifier [Boomslang Recordings:  https://www.beatport.com/release/dust-ep/4151169]
SST:  Together We Fall  [Boomslang Recordings: https://boomslangrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/together-we-fall  | https://www.beatport.com/release/together-we-fall/3636270
Hyroglifics:  Iridescent Fog  [Critical Music]
Willers:  Giggleshitz  [Skankandbass]
XHL:  Internal Pitfight  [Delta9 Recordings]
Melysma:  It's Not Over  [RAM Records]
Electron-C:  Axiom of Choice  [Base Industry Records: https://electron-c.bandcamp.com/track/axiom-of-choice-original-mix |  https://www.beatport.com/release/isomorphix/4135505]]
Sollist:  Barrier  [Raving Panda Records]  
Survival & Ant TC1:  Destroy Foundation  [Dispatch Recordings]
DEDMAN:  Chimes  [Parallel Depth]
Division:  Disorder  [Dispatch Recordings]
NC-17 & Logam:  Punchers Chance  [Dispatch Recordings]
Eski B:  ASTR  [Grand Theft Audio Recordings UK]
Nami:  On the Beat  [Overview Music]
Mur:  Gears  [Parallel Depth]
Fetus:  Etching
Polyrom:  Techno Syndrome  [Drum&BassArena]   
Mosaic:  He Said  [Dispatch Recordings]
Frame:  Blonde or Brunette  [Unchained Recordings]
ESKR:  Other Worlds  [Covert Garden]
Phaction:  Mission  [Rolled Up Records]
Mantra:  Murda  [Sneaker Social Club]
Dave M8:  Dis One  [D-spreen Records]
Nebula:  The Future  [Future Retro London]
Phidippus:  Feedback  [https://phidippus.bandcamp.com/track/feedback]
Danky:  Magnetic Fields  [Unchained Recordings]   
Tryst Temps & Horde:  Crossplay  [Delta9 Recordings]
NC-17:  Holy Diver  [Dispatch Recordings]
Klippee:  Signal Jumper  [Computer Integrated Audio]
Stay-C:  Dope Business  [Drum&BassArena]
Dunk:  Dear Enemy  [Parallel Depth]
Sola:  Howler  [Boomslang Recordings:  https://boomslangrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/speedball-ep  |  https://www.beatport.com/release/speedball-ep/4076396]
Dizrupt:  Corrosion  [Fraktal Sound]
Revaux & Mystic State:  So Wrong  [The Chikara Project]
Black Barrel:  Back Underground  [Dispatch Recordings]
Illform, Veronica Red:  Autonomous Spirit 23 (Veronica Red Vocal Mix)  [Intimate Venues Recordings:  https://www.beatport.com/release/autonomous-spirit/4132200]
Zombie Cats:  Outset  [Zombie Cats]
Rift:  Gaslight  [Four Corners]
Indent:  Crowbar  [Vahana Records]
Operate, Rizzle & Rider Shafique:  Mindset (Klinical Remix)  [Overview Music]
ASC:  In the Shadows  [Samurai Music]
Djinn:  Tempest  [Rupture LDN]

Exclusive Guest Mix for DJ Purity 

Preview... forthcoming on 24 Karat on the 4th December

Dj Skye - Never Leave The Jungle

Wakey wakey !!!!

Check out the original artists songs, awesome tunes:-
King Yoof - @busta-c-94
West Indies VIP - @lupo_dnb

Lupo - West Indies VIP (Yoof Busta.C 94 Blend)

Forthcoming 2026 on C Recordings

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.            “It’s not like I’m using,” Case heard someone say, as he shouldered his way through the crowd around the door of the Chat. “It’s like my body’s developed this massive drug deficiency.” It was a Sprawl voice and a Sprawl joke. The Chatsubo was a bar for professional expatriates; you could drink there for a week and never hear two words in Japanese.            Ratz was tending bar, h is prosthetic arm jerking monotonously as he filled a tray of glasses with draft Kirin. He saw Case and smiled, his teeth a webwork of East European steel and brown decay. Case found a place at the bar, between the unlikely tan on one of Lonny Zone’s whores and the crisp naval uniform of a tall African whose cheekbones were ridged with precise rows of tribal scars. “Wage was in her early, with two joeboys,” Ratz said, shoving a draft across the bar with his good hand. “Maybe some business with you, Case?”            Case shrugged. The girl to his right giggled and nudged him.            The bartender’s smile widened. His ugliness was the stuff of legend. In an age of affordable beauty, there was something heraldic about his lack of it. The antique arm whined as he reached for another mug. It was a Russian military prosthesis, a seven-function force-feedback manipulator, cased in grubby pink plastic. “You are too much the artiste, Herr Case.” Ratz grunted; the sound served him as laughter. He scratched his overhang of white-shirted belly with the pink claw. “You are the artiste of the slightly funny deal.”            “Sure,” Case said, and sipped his beer. “Somebody’s gotta be funny around here. Sure the fuck isn’t you.”            The whore’s giggle went up an octave.            “Isn’t you either, sister. So you vanish, okay? Zone, he’s a close personal friend of mine.”            She looked Case in the eye and made the softest possible spitting sound, her lips barely moving. But she left.            “Jesus,” Case said, “what kinda creepjoint you running here? Man can’t have a drink?”            “Ha,” Ratz said, swabbing the scarred wood with a rag, “Zone shows a percentage. You I let work here for entertainment value.”            As Case was picking up his beer, one of those strange instants of silence descended, as though a hundred unrelated conversations had simultaneously arrived at the same pause. Then the whore’s giggle rang out, tinged with certain hysteria.            Ratz grunted. “An angel has passed.”            “The Chinese,” bellowed a drunken Australian, “Chinese bloody invented nerve-splicing. Give me the mainland for a nerve job any day. Fix you right, mate…;”            “Now that,” Case said to his glass, all his bitterness suddenly rising in him like bile, “that is so much bullshit.”             The Japanese had already forgotten more neurosurgery than the Chinese had ever known. The black clinics of Chiba were the cutting edge, whole bodies of technique supplanted monthly, and still they couldn’t repair the damage he’d suffered in that Memphis hotel.            A year here and he still dreamed of cyberspace, hope fading nightly. All the speed he took, all the turns he’d taken and the corners he’d cut in Night City, and still he’d see the matrix in his sleep, bright lattices of logic unfolding across that colorless void…;The Sprawl was a long strange way home over the Pacific now, and he was no console man, no cyberspace cowboy. Just another hustler, trying to make it through. But the dreams came on in the Japanese night like livewire voodoo, and he’d cry for it, cry in his sleep, and wake alone in the dark, curled in his capsule in some coffin hotel, his hands clawed into the bedslab, temperfoam bunched between his fingers, trying to reach the console that wasn’t there.             “I saw your girl last night,” Ratz said, passing Case his second Kirin.            “I don’t have one,” he said, and drank.            “Miss Linda Lee.”            Case shook his head.            “No girl? Nothing? Only biz, friend artiste? Dedication to commerce?” The bartender’s small brown eyes were nested deep in wrinkled flesh. “I think I liked you better, with her. You laughed more. Now, some night, you get maybe too artistic; you wind up in the clinic tanks, spare parts.”            “You’re breaking my heart, Ratz.” He finished his beer, paid and left, high narrow shoulders hunched beneath the rainstained khaki nylon of his windbreaker. Threading his way through the Ninsei crowds, he could smell his own stale sweat.             Case was twenty-four. At twenty-two, he’d been a cowboy, a rustler, one of the best in the Sprawl. He’d been trained by the best, by McCoy Pauley and Bobby Quine, legends in the biz. He’d operated on an almost permanent adrenaline high, a byproduct of youth and proficiency, jacked into a custom cyberspace deck hat projected his disembodied consciousness into the consensual hallucination that was the matrix. A their, he’d worked for other, wealthier thieves, employers who provided the exotic software required to penetrate the bright walls of corporate systems, opening windows into rich fields of data.            He’s made the classic mistake, the one he’s sworn he’d never make. He stole from his employers. He kept something for himself and tried to move it through a fence in Amsterdam. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been discovered, not that it mattered now. He’d expected to die, then but they only smiled. Of course he was welcome, they told him, welcome to the money. And he was going to need it. Because––still smiling––they were going to make sure he never worked again.            They damaged his nervous system with a wartime Russian mycotoxin.            Strapped to a bed in a Memphis hotel, his talent burning out micron by micron, he hallucinated for thirty hours.            The damage was minute, subtle, and utterly effective.            For Case, who’d lived for the bodiless exultation of cyberspace, it was the Fall. In the bars he’d frequented as a cowboy hotshot, the elite stance involved a certain relaxed contempt for the flesh. The body was meat. Case fell into the prison of his own flesh.             His total assets were quickly converted to New Yen, a fat sheaf of the old paper currency that circulated endlessly through the closed circuit of the world’s black markets like the seashells of the Trobriand islanders. It was difficult to transact legitimate business with cash in the Sprawl; in Japan, it was already illegal.            In Japan, he’d known with a clenched and absolute certainty, he’d find his cure. In Chiba. Either in a registered clinic or in the shadowland of black medicine. Synonymous with implants, nerve-splicing, and microbionics, Chiba was a magnet for the Sprawl’s techno-criminal subcultures.            In Chiba, he’d watched his New Yen vanish in a two-month round of examinations and consultations. The men in the black clinics, his last hope, had admired the expertise with which he’d been maimed, and then slowly shaken their heads.            Now he slept in the cheapest coffins, the ones nearest the port, beneath the quartz-halogen floods that lit the docks all night like vast stages; where you couldn’t see the lights of Tokyo for the glare of the television sky, not even the towering hologram logo of the Fuji Electric Company, and the Tokyo Bay was a black expanse where gulls wheeled above drifting shoals of white styrofoam. Behind the port lay the city, factory domes dominated by the vast cubes of corporate arcologies. Port and city were divided by a narrow borderland of older streets, an area with no official name. Night City, with Ninsei its heart. By day, the bars down Ninsei were shuttered and featureless, the neon dead, the holograms inert, waiting, under the poisoned silver sky. --Reprinted from Neuromancer by William Gibson by permission of Berkley, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc. Copyright © 1984, William Gibson. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or any parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. 
Hooked on the rush from each time i play in front of magical people.
Deep minimalist.

booking : jakubxbooking@gmail.com

IG : https://www.instagram.com/jakubpaksi/

member of Organic Beatz crew 

IG : https://www.instagram.com/organic.beatz/

"Niemand ist mehr Sklave, als der sich für frei hält, ohne es zu sein."

J.W. Goethe

signall_FM mix by JakubX

jakubX

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