dubblog
The year is coming to an end and we're serving you our Best of the BestOur picks for 2025. Naturally, this is outrageously subjective and quite arrogantly presented without any further explanation. We're eager to hear your opinions on our selection – and what your favorites were this year. Let us know in the comments.
With "In Dub“(Echo Beach) The Danish band Total Hip Replacement presents an album in which their warm, soulful and highlife-influenced reggae compositions are brought to life by selected Dub-producers run the project – and the result is as diverse as it is surprising. The band from Aarhus, who recently worked with musicians from Ghana, open their songs here to reinterpretations that are sometimes stripped down, sometimes poppy, sometimes deep with bass, and sometimes light-footed. It's noteworthy that many of the producers involved... Dub-Mixers living in Germany: Aldubb, the Dubvisionist, Dr. Markuse and Oliver Frost significantly shape the album, while MF DUB from Denmark and Dubmatix from Toronto stand out as international guests. "In" was released. Dub“Appropriately, at Echo Beach in Hamburg – and thus the majority of this production is ultimately German” Dub-A project that reflects the diversity of the local scene.
The mixes themselves vary in quality: some are atmospherically rich and truly exciting, while others, though virtuosic, suffer somewhat from the source material. What I personally find less convincing is the recurring glimpses of the original vocals, which some find jarring. Dub-versions lack the desired depth. In addition, some poppier sound aesthetics from the original tracks are present, which in the DubThe context doesn't always work perfectly. Nevertheless, the album is worth listening to and diverse – a nice showcase of German music. Dub-A mix of cultures and an interesting new look at the band Total Hip Replacement – which was actually unknown to me until now.
It doesn't happen often that you get a DubListening to the album, one immediately realizes: A door is opening here that one didn't even know existed until just now.The Alien Dub Orchestra Plays the Breadminster Songbook“(Alien Transistor) is exactly that kind of moment. For me, it’s the strangest, most unusual, and probably most innovative.” Dub-publication of recent years – and an impressive testament to how far Dub This is possible if one frees oneself from traditions, production dogmas, and expectations.
The project itself is already extraordinary. The alien Dub Orchestra is a mixed group of Bavarian musicians – including some from the circles of The Notwist and G.Rag y los hermanos Patchekos. Their approach: the songs of British Dub-to record Elijah Minnelli's eccentric songs from his so-called Breadminster Songbook with a full band. Minnelli, who otherwise – by his own account – assembles his "frayed, melancholic hymns to his homeland" on his computer in a damp basement, was himself taken aback by the idea. "Real professionals playing something you've pieced together yourself – it's overwhelming," he says. And indeed: His quirky music suddenly sounds as he perhaps always intended it to.
The album works its way through Minnelli's cumbia-infused DubReggae – but instead of digital loops and a rough-mix atmosphere, there's a fully instrumented, almost anarchically colorful band lineup: guiro, accordion, melodica, sousaphone, trumpet, and all sorts of percussion. It sounds as if a Munich backyard collective rediscovered old Studio One recordings, European folk tradition, and South American rhythms simultaneously and simply mashed them together. Weird? Yes. But above all, mind-blowing.
Tracks like "Vine and Fig Tree" demonstrate what happens when you suddenly shape Minnelli's enigmatically beautiful melodies from wood and metal instead of bits and bytes: The harmonies become tangible, the bass (this time as a wailing sousaphone line!) gains that physical warmth that only real air columns and real hands can produce. With other tracks—such as "Slats"—you almost wonder if Minnelli's original wasn't subconsciously intended for this band. It sounds so natural, so unique, so complete.
And then comes the second part of the album – the real mindfuck: the Dub-Versions! A circular metamorphosis that finally places the project in the experimental realm beyond... Dub-conventions catapulted. For these DubMinnelli brought in sound artist Raimund Wong, who works with an anarchic setup of tape machines and effects chains. Everything was mixed in one take: Minnelli on the faders, Wong with filters and effects that Dub break down, distort, liquefy.
"Pundit Dub“ is perhaps the best example – a hypnotic, droning trip that dissolves into psychedelic wisps and sounds as if the entire album is gliding through a portal into another dimension. It's not a classic Dub and nobody wants to be one. It is Dub as an idea, as a collapse, as a radical opening of form.
Ultimately, "Play the Breadminster Songbook" is nothing less than a love letter to Dub as a living principle. Folk, Cumbia, DubAvant-garde – everything collides, overlaps, and merges without ever becoming arbitrary. The music feels like a constant transformation, an open dialogue between Minnelli's digital intimacy and the analog exuberance of a band that clearly revels in disregarding the rules.
I would conclude: This album shows how far Dub Since King Tubby arrived – and that it's still possible to stretch and bend him, yet still let his core shine through. "Play the Breadminster Songbook" is quirky, bold, playful, and visionary. For me, the most innovative DubA project of recent years. A masterpiece of the unconventional.
"Soul Rebel in Dub“Lone Ark Riddim Force (A-Lone/Evidence) is one of those albums that you don't just listen to, but eventually just know. I've internalized many of the vocal versions from the Lone Ark universe – with Alpheus or Ras Teo – over the years anyway, and that's precisely why this feels so special.” Dub-Set so familiar. Roberto Sánchez, who has been producing countless fantastic tracks in his Santander studio for years, has almost outdone himself here. Every track is a killer – no filler – as we used to say. So many musical ideas in one place are rare – even from Roberto Sánchez. What particularly captivates me about this album is its ingenious rocksteady and early reggae aesthetic. The rhythms have the light-footed buoyancy of that golden era – but here with a rich, contemporary sound. The plucked guitar melodies are beautiful, the horns are perfectly placed, nothing is overloaded or inflated. And since Sánchez tends to be rather sparing with DubBy avoiding effects – in some parts it almost sounds like classic B-side versions – the whole thing feels very pleasantly streamlined: clear spaces, clear ideas, no effects for their own sake, but musical substance.
Finally one again Dub-Album in the classic sense, namely as an instrumental mix based on a vocal album.World Inversion“(Easy Star Records) by the Flying Vipers is the Dub-Version of "Off World," that beautifully soulful album from April of this year. While "Off World" unfolded a rather expansive panorama with Kellee Webb's vocals, social commentary, rare covers, and jazzy guest moments, World Inversion retreats into the engine room of the sound—to where rhythms are deconstructed, melodies emerge and disappear, and the world behind the mix suddenly seems larger than the one before it. The Vipers reconstruct their material from "Off World" in a charmingly quirky way: sometimes almost faithfully to the original, sometimes completely turned off-kilter. It sounds as if they've sent the songs through a mirror that shifts the proportions but preserves the essence. The grooves are deep, the spaces open, the echoes expansive. It embodies the ideal form of classic Dubs – all the way to a completely analog sound aesthetic.
The guest appearances are like little shooting stars in the mix: Earl Sixteen, whose voice every Dub gilded; Roger Miller of Mission of Burma, who briefly opens the door to a completely unique parallel world with guitars and cornet; and of course, Brandee Younger again on the harp, who already contributed that elusive, ethereal element on "Off World." Here, she acts like a light shining through heavy Dub-Fog is penetrating.
What I particularly appreciate is that World Inversion doesn't try to appear modern or progressive. It prides itself on being... Dub to be – in the classic sense. Bass and drums at the center, the effects as a compass, the melodies as fleeting shadows. It glides without rushing. It grooves without being overdriven. It's psychedelic, but never kitschy. For me, that's exactly the kind. Dub, which can be both listened to attentively and felt at the same time.
The production – mixed by John “JBo” Beaudette – is another reason why the album works so well. The sound is warm, rich, earthy, but with enough space between the layers for each echo to follow its own path. An album that feels like a loving embrace, one that doesn't glitter, but shines.
There are artists whose work is so vast, ever-changing, and stylistically fragmented that you approach each new release with caution—not knowing whether you're in for a hidden gem or a rushed effort. For me, Haris Pilton falls squarely into this category. His output is enormous, his style sometimes erratic, his releases ranging from charming to incomprehensible. But then comes…Think Dubby“– and suddenly there’s an album that feels like a still point in the Pilton universe. A masterpiece. Perhaps even his masterpiece.”
The subtitle alone makes it clear where this is headed: "Haris Pilton Tribute to King Tubby." And indeed, this album doesn't just pay homage to Tubby, it practically worships him. It's about reverence, respect, and allowing a chapter of Jamaican music history to continue to resonate as authentically as possible. Pilton's accompanying text portrays Tubby as what he was: a scientist at the mixing desk, the creator of a musical language, the man who forged spiritual architectures from drum & bass. Pilton picks up where he left off, not only in the aesthetics but also in the ambition.
Anyone who clicks on “Think” DubWhether anyone is actually playing – or even if anyone is playing at all – remains a mystery. Given Pilton's production speed, it's easy to suspect that much of it was created digitally. And yet, the album sounds impressively analog: warm, dusty, vintage. The basslines roll like they're from an old Channel One session, the drums sound dry, the effects – delay, spring reverb, filters – could have come straight from Tubby's lab. It's almost disconcerting how much these tracks reek of 1975. Not in the sense of nostalgic kitsch, but like genuine, honest... Dub-Work from the heyday of the genre. Some of the versions sound so Tubby-esque that you could mistake them for unreleased King Tubby cuts if you listened blindly – if Tubby had been able to master such a powerful sound back then.
Stylistically, the album is leaner, more focused, and more serious than much of what Pilton usually releases. No experiments, no detours – just more classic, more straightforward. DubAnd this focus clearly benefits him. The rhythms are superb: solid foundations, deeply grounded, yet elegant. The mixes are clean, unobtrusive, but effective – not an attempt to pile on effects, but rather to use them judiciously. Exactly as Dub At its core, it was conceived as an art of omission and emphasis. Despite its retro orientation, the production remains clear, powerful, and well-balanced. It's an album that's fun without being ingratiating. An album you can listen to without constantly thinking about how it was made—and at the same time, feel respect precisely for the fact that it sounds the way it does. For me, "Thing" is Dub"Think by" is one of Haris Pilton's finest works: balanced, focused, tasteful, and sonically astonishingly authentic. An album you can listen to in peace and quiet, but one that also immediately resonates when played loudly through good speakers. Yes, "Think Dub“by” sounds like a postcard to King Tubby, written with respect and full of love for the roots of Dub.
What a wonderfully grounded album!Blue House Rockin'“from Soul Sugar meets Dub Shepherds (GEE Recordings) is far more than just another beautiful autumn release for me – it's one of those albums that you know is going to be good even before you hear the first note! It's brimming with passion, warmth, dedication, skill, and above all: genuine craftsmanship. While so much music today sounds sanitized and algorithmically bland, this album stands in stark contrast – one that not only listens well but also feels absolutely right.
The combination of Soul Sugar (Guillaume Metenier) and the Dub Shepherds (Jolly Joseph, Dr. Charty, Jahno) seems like a happy accident of music history. All four share this deep affection for the analog soundscape and Jamaican studio spirit. The production method alone is an homage to the golden age: recorded live over two days at Blue House Studio, using tube and ribbon microphones from the 50s and 60s, directly onto 24-track tape, and later mixed analog at Bat Records. No artificial bombast, no digital bubble wrap – just music, pure and direct. Every note has meaning, every pause significance, every echo a function.
The album doesn't fit into any one stylistic category, but rather blends seamlessly between roots reggae, soul, funk and Dub Wandering is what makes it so appealing. Right from the start: Curtis Mayfield's "Give Me Your Love." A quiet statement. Soulful, warm, with Jolly Joseph's falsetto perfectly overlaying the groove. Equally touching: Aaron Frazer's "My God Has a Telephone"—here in a reggae guise that preserves the soul of the original while adding a completely new dimension. "Hold My Hand"—created during the session—fits so naturally into the overall picture, as if the song had always existed. A touch of lovers rock, but without kitsch, instead full of feeling and warmth. And then: "Family Affair." Shniece McMenamin transforms the track into a vibrant reggae hybrid full of attitude and soul. A highlight.
Guillaume Metenier on the Hammond organ – that's practically a guarantee of magic anyway. And so it is here: The instrumentals "Disco Jack," "Choice of Music," and "Drum Song" pay deep homage to Jackie Mittoo, and not just formally. They groove, they float, they live – and show how much soul instrumentals can hold when played with talent and passion. And as a final farewell from the studio: "Blue House Rock." A spontaneous jam, raw, funky, imbued with the spirit of Studio One. A small miracle to end the evening.
Why does it all work so well? Because it's honest. Because this album isn't trying to be anything – it's simply a confident statement. Not a retro show, but a genuine homage to musical roots. Analog production, but no dusty nostalgia. Blue House Rockin' really touches me because it's simply beautiful music in the classic sense. This is how my reggae albums sounded when I first started to love this music. I think these memories fill me with a lot of nostalgic sentimentality, which makes it impossible for me to judge objectively. One thing is clear, though: For me, "Blue House Rockin'" is one of the best releases of 2025.
Between Bass and Consciousness – a conversation with Neil Perch of Zion Train
For over three decades, the producer and activist has shaped the European Dubscene – and at the same time rethinks it. His current album "Dubs of Perception” is more than a musical release: It is an invitation to listen deeper, to look more closely and to think beyond the boundaries of genre-typical stimulus-response patterns.
When Neil Perch, the mastermind behind Zion Train, presents a new album, it's never just a musical event. It's an invitation to reflect, a statement, a soundtrack to political debate. His current work, "Dubs of Perception” is no exception – on the contrary: It is exemplary for an artistic self-image that Dub-Music is seen as a cultural, social and spiritual resonance space.
“I have been in Dub-area recently become increasingly bored," says Perch with the blunt clarity that characterizes him. "In the past, Dub Exciting, experimental, technologically advanced—these days, a lot of things sound formulaic. Everyone wants to build that one stepper that will explode on the sound system. That doesn't interest me." What interests him is originality. Authenticity. Sonic identity. "I love it when every artist finds their own expression—not to please, but because they have something to say to themselves."
For "DubWith "S of Perception," Neil Perch returned to the roots of his production style—to analog live mixing. "I have a 32-channel TAC Scorpion console in the studio—over 40 years old, but lovingly refurbished. A device that was used a lot in Jamaica—among others by Mikey Bennett at Music Works Studio." The decision for the analog setup wasn't nostalgic, but a conscious departure from the excess of digital possibilities: "I was simply fed up with doing everything on the computer. I wanted to return to a way of working where surprise and spontaneity are possible." For him, spontaneity doesn't mean chaos, but rather musical intuition. "When I mix analog, everything is impulsive. I set up the effects, press play—and then it flows. I follow the vibe. I can't plan anything. And that's exactly what I love. I surprise myself in the process."
“For me, Dub not just a style – it's an approach to music," he says, leaning back thoughtfully. "I see the mixing desk as an instrument. When I play live dubbe—and by that, I mean mixing in real time in the studio, on the analog mixing console—then it's a performative act. I play the mixing console like others play a drum kit or a guitar." For him, working with the TAC Scorpion is a conscious counterpoint to computer-controlled production. "I could automate everything, plan filter curves in advance, perfect the effects. But that's not my path. I want to decide in the moment—with my hands, my ear, my gut. I want the mix to breathe."
This approach runs through the entire album. "I prepare a lot of things: tracks, effects, routings. But as soon as I press play, everything is open. I have an idea, but no control. And that's exactly what I love. I want something unexpected to happen. When I DubIf I surprise myself, that's a good sign. I love that – this tension between routine and chance."
At the DubHe's in motion. "I grab the faders, turn the aux sends, push delay trails up and down, pull the bass out, then back in. It's physical. And it has to do with presence—I'm fully there, in this moment, in this sound."
He laughs briefly: "Many people think that studio work is sterile. But that's nonsense. If I Dub When I'm mixing, I'm just as emotionally involved as I am on stage. Maybe even more so. The only difference is: no one's watching me." And then he becomes serious again: "In a world that increasingly relies on control, precision, and repeatability, this way of working is a statement. I leave room for mistakes, for blurriness, for instinct. For the human element. I think that's one reason why many digital productions sound so lifeless—because they're too smooth. I don't want perfection. I want truth in the sound." Another new-old sound source is the TB-303, the legendary Roland acid machine. "I have a modern analog model in the studio—that sound is back, not just because of the nostalgia, but because I simply find that kind of sound exciting."
But as much as he talks about aesthetics and production methods, his real concern goes far beyond that. Zion Train's music is steeped in philosophy, cultural history, and political awareness. Every song title, every album name is a reference, an invitation to think further.Dub"S of Perception" refers directly to Aldous Huxley's "The Doors of Perception." It's about perception, consciousness—what we see when we change perspective." The track "Cosmic Serpent" references Jeremy Narby's book on shamanism, ethnography, and psychopharmacology. And "Népantla" takes up a concept from Nahuatl culture: "It describes the space in between—between two cultures, two identities, two realities. That's a central concept for my life. I am a brown man, born in England, living in Germany, with Caribbean roots. I exist in this in-between."
This idea also characterizes his music: It is not reggae, not techno, not DubStep, not ambient – and yet permeated by all of the above. Music in motion. Hybrid, but never arbitrary. What he radically rejects is copying. "I draw inspiration from it – from birdsong as well as from techno. But I don't copy. Plagiarism is a crime against art. Even if only two people like my piece – if I love it myself, it's a success."
Zion Train has always toured with its own sound system – although this is becoming less common these days. "In 2002, I brought my system to Germany. Back then, there were only a few systems with real power. Today, there are sound systems in every city, from Poland to Spain, from Norway to Sicily."
But the Movement's success also brings its downside: "With its popularity came uniformity. Too many tracks sound the same. I don't like music that's polished for effect. I want emotion, depth—not drops for collective freakouts."
Emotion and depth – both can be found in abundance on “Dubs of Perception." Also because Perch never separates music from politics. "Everything I do is political. Whether I ride a bike or drive a car. Whether I buy organic food or cheap meat. Whether I watch the news on ARD or Al Jazeera - everything is a political decision." He takes a stand. Not with slogans, but through attitude. "I am an anti-capitalist. An anarchist in the sense of a self-organized society. I believe that people can take care of their communities - like the Black Panthers did in the 1970s: free breakfasts, literacy, medical care. Not because the state says so, but because it's necessary." He doesn't shy away from making uncomfortable statements. "There are things you're hardly allowed to talk about in Germany—for example, Israeli politics. If I say it's wrong to bomb children in Gaza, I'm vilified as an anti-Semite. But that's wrong. I can be for the existence of Israel—and still oppose war crimes. I can value Jewish people—and still oppose colonialism."
The social analysis he provides is razor-sharp: "The problem isn't migration. The problem is capitalism. Villages are becoming deserted, public transport is dying, people are overwhelmed – and migrants are being blamed." Yet Germany needs immigration: "400.000 people a year, otherwise the system will collapse. But what's missing is a smart, empathetic integration policy. The fear of the 70-year-old German villager is just as real as the despair of the 22-year-old Syrian. Both need a platform for their voices. But instead of conversation, there are slogans." He advocates for open, unbiased debates. For more listening. For more courage to ask uncomfortable questions. And a new appreciation for what really matters: "It can't be that the man who buys Rheinmetall shares gets more recognition than the woman who looks after children in kindergarten. That's sick."
Another influential factor in his life: fatherhood. "I used to be in the studio five days a week. Now I spend less time there – but much more intensely. I develop ideas in my head, bring them purposefully to the studio, and work more efficiently." But the role of father influences not only his everyday life, but also his heart. "There are tracks that make me cry when I listen to them. I don't know why – but it overwhelms me. The only other thing in life that triggers such feelings in me is the love for my children."
For Perch, music isn't a consumer good, but medicine. "Music is magic. It heals. It connects. It belongs to all of us. And when it's degraded to a commodity—through platforms like Spotify or through AI-generated songs—then that magic is abused." He's aware that the reality of this commodification cannot be stopped. "Spotify is an ingenious system—but it's in the hands of a capitalist, Daniel Ek, who cares about nothing but profit. I don't listen to Spotify privately. I don't want to give that man a cent."
What remains after two hours of conversation with Neil Perch is the image of an artist with attitude. A person who does not resign himself to the world as it is. Who makes music not to escape, but to fight. Against lethargy. Against arbitrariness. For awareness, empathy, and change. His Dub is not an echo of the past. It is an acoustic manifesto for the future.
What a dystopian title: “The Collapse of Everything” (On-U Sound). Adrian Sherwood has named his new solo work this way, and after 13 years, he presents an album that lives up to its title with almost brutal consistency. Dub Anyone expecting – and with Sherwood, this is not unjustified – will first rub their ears. The sonic cosmos that the On-U-Sound mastermind creates here is far from anything commonly referred to as "Dub“ And yet that is exactly what it is: Dub in spirit. Dub as an attitude. Dub as a method of breaking up and reorganizing.
"Survival & Resistance" in 2012 already clearly demonstrated that Sherwood was forging his own path with his solo works. "The Collapse of Everything," however, definitively departs from familiar paths. What remains is the deconstructivist production style: layers of live recordings, effects, fragments, and rhythms that aren't concerned with groove, but rather with atmosphere, contrast, and disruption. The sound is often off-kilter, at times even atonal, at times almost repellent. Sherwood doesn't seem to want to please anyone here, but rather delivers a dark poem about loss, transience, and resistance.
The deaths of two close friends—Mark Stewart and Keith LeBlanc—helped shape the album. It's not sentimental, but rather permeated by a quiet, blunt respect for the inevitable. In tracks like the title track "The Collapse of Everything," a sense of disillusionment hovers through the expansive soundscapes, underpinned by percussion, dissonant pads, and recurring, barely tangible melodic fragments. The widescreen sound feels like film music—not that of a blockbuster, but that of a dystopian arthouse film. Tarkovsky meets technoir.
Sherwood wouldn't be Sherwood if he relied on his own genius. As always, he surrounds himself with an exquisite ensemble: Doug Wimbish provides the low frequencies, Ivan "Celloman" Hussey contributes strings, Mark Bandola on guitar, Chris Joyce on drums – an illustrious group with whom Sherwood pours his experimental ideas into organic forms. Alex White's woodwinds and keys lend the sound additional depth, at times an almost jazz-like expanse. It is these subtle contributions that prevent "The Collapse of Everything" from sinking into mere gloom. Instead, something shimmers there – not light, but an awareness. "I'm not trying to please anyone but myself," Sherwood says of the album. This attitude characterizes every bar. DubThe idea is not musical, but structural: breaking things up, reassembling them, shifting meanings. Like a musical palimpsest, sounds, memories, and references overlap. If you listen closely, you'll discover traces of On-U Sound, of "Becoming a Cliché," of Lee Perry and Bim Sherman—but all filtered through a dissonant, dystopian sound aesthetic.
It's noticeable that Sherwood has worked for artists like Spoon, Panda Bear, and Halsey in recent years: He's very familiar with the language of indie, pop, and avant-garde electronica. But he doesn't use it to be accessible. On the contrary: The "Collapse of Everything" is a rejection of accessibility. It's radical, subjective, almost hermetic—and consistent in that.
The “Collapse of Everything” is definitely not an album for Dubheads looking for a bass upgrade. It's a statement. A demanding, unruly, bulky piece of music that refuses any function. You could say: Adrian Sherwood has Dub elevated to a free art form – freed from any functional definition. Anyone who wants to hear how Dub can sound when he breaks away from his roots, from having to function in the sound system or on the dance floor, from any audience expectations and generally from everything that we Dub love so much – and yet somehow Dub remains, will find here a fascinating, multi-layered, uncomfortable work.
Sometimes, when the fog hangs over the harbor and a muffled bass wafts through the Speicherstadt from the inside of a club, you think you can hear it – the echo of that fictitious dream beach that Martha & The Muffins sang about in their 1980 song "Echo Beach." What was once just a metaphor has long since become a reality: Echo Beach is in Hamburg. Here, on the banks of the Elbe, Nicolai Beverungen founded a label in 1995 that has since then shaped the Dub-Sound in this country. To mark its 30th anniversary, the label is now returning with the compilation "King size Dub – Hamburg" (Echo Beach) back to its origins – and impressively shows that Dub in this city is more than a style: it is a soundtrack, an attitude, a history.
When Echo Beach launched the first King Size Dubcompilation, it was a statement. While the UKDub in small sound system communities, Nicolai translated the sound for a continental audience and incorporated his own punk past. Compilations from New Zealand, South Africa, Italy, Jamaica and the USA quickly followed, as did reissues and reinterpretations, which Dub associated with dance, punk, minimal and pop. The label catalogue became an open archive of the global Dub-events – without losing sight of the local scene.
Because Hamburg was part of this movement from the very beginning: With formations like Dub Me Ruff, Dub Division, Di Irie and Arfmann's projects (Turtle Bay Country Club, Kastrierte Philosophen) there was already a vital scene in the 90s that was not Jamaican or British Dub copied, but thought further. This is exactly where “King Size Dub – Hamburg” – and brings all these threads together in a dense, 33-track compendium.
This compilation isn't just a simple retrospective. It doesn't just document; it curates, updates, and connects.
The opener – a hypnotic discoDub by Station 17, mixed by DJ Koze – shows how the classic Dub-approach (reduction, space, rhythm) meets current production methods. The fact that Udo Lindenberg and Jan Delay meet on the Reeperbahn (but only on the vinyl LP) is more than a marketing gimmick: It is a reminiscence of the city's pop cultural identity – dissolved into echo and reverb by Guido Craviero, the live sound magician of Seeed and Peter Fox. Matthias Arfmann, one of the founding fathers of German Dub, performs with his son Chassy. It's a nice analogy: Just as the Echo Beach label connects musical generations, so do its protagonists. Lee "Scratch" Perry is represented, as is Elbtonal Percussion, whose Max Romeo cover, in collaboration with Prottassov, looks beyond the box in an avant-garde way. Even politics has a place: TC Sunshine's agit-Dub about Nikel Pallat's legendary appearance on a TV talk show in 1971 (during which a table was broken) sounds like a piece of acoustic memory culture. In "Die Mieten sind zu hoch" (The rents are too high), Knarf Rellöm Arkestra denounces the social reality of many big cities – and is Dub Spencer & Trance Hill from Switzerland congenial in Dub Here, music and milieu combine to create an urban soundscape that extends far beyond Hamburg.
Hamburg's scene thrives not only on its sound systems, but also on the permeability of genres. This is particularly evident on this compilation: Heinz Strunk brings you "Black Jets" Dub“ Puberty in a Nutshell, Jacques Palminger & Kings of DubChaka Khan rocks gender with Hanseatic nonchalance. Prince Istari and Legoluft deliver Dub in the tradition of the DIY spirit, and with Kein Hass Da (the Bad Brains cover in German) a circle closes between punk, Dub and Subversion. Major artists like Deichkind, Erobique, Sam Ragga Band, Fettes Brot, and Goldenen Zitronen are also represented – not as stars, but as part of a collective that defines the diversity of this scene. It's the sound of a city that has never been defined – especially not musically.
What is “King Size Dub – Hamburg” so beautiful is the symbiosis of retrospective and vision. It shows what Echo Beach has stood for since 1995: the constant re-contextualization of a genre that finds its strength in its willingness to experiment. The label has Dub not only imported, but also shaped, adapted, and formed – right up to the celebrated tributes to The Clash, David Bowie, Kraftwerk, Grace Jones, and the Ramones. The city where it all began gets its DubHomage – raw, playful, deep, permeated with traces, voices, and stories. Hamburg is not just a backdrop, but a source of sound. And Echo Beach remains the beacon on the horizon.
