RA Podcast

A 100 percent production mix from the dubwise don.

“You can find inspiration in everything, as insignificant as it seems,” Andy Martin told 15 Questions earlier this year. For the Mexican-Jamaican producer, that stretches from dub to Mexican literature, ancestral knowledge and science fiction, all fed into techno that sounds otherworldly but never forgets the floor.

Dub is the skeleton of Martin’s music. Sometimes it’s explicit, as on his collaboration with Lee “Scratch” Perry. Sometimes it’s subtler, as on this year’s “Tierra de Nahuales” for Animalia, where a dub siren and decayed reverb pull proggy, tribal sci-fi techno into dub’s orbit. No wonder he’s a buy-on-sight producer for DJs like Kia, Priori and CCL, and as at home at Berghain and FOLD as at memòri and pe:rsona.

Running just over 90 minutes, RA.1061 is an anthology made entirely of his own music. Track titles nod to Juan Rulfo’s Pedro Páramo and Remedios Varo’s painting La creación de las aves, yet the mix is never as cerebral as that suggests. At a time when music is increasingly asked to justify itself in numbers, Martin counters: “Value exists precisely because it cannot be quantified.”

Find the tracklist and Q&A at ra.co/podcast/1080
@andy-martin

The Berlin DJ, one of the brightest of her generation, makes a patient case for house and techno on vinyl.

We’ve all heard the phrase “DJ’s DJ.” Too often, it’s lazy shorthand for a technical skill so esoteric it’s lost on the dance floor. But Nathalie Ogazón Faber embodies the craft in its fullest sense, commanding respect from the regulars at the booth to the sound technician at the back.

Known simply as Ogazón, she played her first gig in 2018 and made her Berghain debut in 2022. Since then she’s become the quintessential Panorama Bar DJ, a resident in spirit alongside ItaloJohnson, Steffi and her regular b2b partner, Ryan Elliott. Her affinity for techno is equally pronounced, and her mixing bridges both floors: patient and refined without ever feeling too polished.

That patience defines her RA Mix. Forgoing obvious drops, she builds subtle, drawn-out peaks through delicate shifts like a weightier kick drum or an incoming hi-hat. Melody arrives as a pad here, a dubbed-out chord there. The connecting theme, she says, is emotion.

Recorded entirely on vinyl, RA.1060 embraces imperfection. “In a world where everything is becoming increasingly polished and ‘perfect,’” she notes, “I think a little bit of grain and a few pops here and there can only be a good thing.” Ogazón is consistent, but don’t mistake that for regression. It’s what makes her a DJ’s DJ, in the truest sense.

Find the Q&A at ra.co/podcast/1079
@ogazon

Cinematic techno from the mysterious Dutch producer.

Some of the best techno is both beautiful and austere. On an old Robert Hood or Sandwell District track, the industrial clank of percussion gives way to bursts of melody where you can hear the ghosts singing inside the machines. It's this version of techno that the Dutch producer nthng has been honing since the mid-2010s, from his debut on Lobster Theremin's Mörk to records for Delsin.

His take on techno, borrowing from trance, dub and ambient, has always hewed close to the edge of the dance floor, that space where dancers keep their eyes shut and get lost in the shadows.

For RA.1059, he delivers an hour from the most visceral and cinematic end of his sound. The opening suite of four of his own tracks is nothing (pun intended) short of breathtaking: sky-searching IDM turns into chromatic techno, followed by a dubstep-referencing vocal track with a rolling break that hits with the weight of a guillotine, before he lets loose a slightly syncopated barnstormer. He never lets the drama and tension slip across the remaining 48 minutes, ending on his own piece of paranoid and skeletal drum & bass.

Find the tracklist at ra.co/podcast/1078
@nthngnthng

A showcase of East Coast club music, old and new, from a new Baltimore star.

Baltimore doesn't get the credit it deserves. Maryland's largest city gave the world Baltimore club, a blueprint for much of the East Coast's dance music—Jersey club and Philly club both trace their lineage back to it. The scene is alive and kicking, and Tromac, real name Miles Cowling, is at the heart of it.

From Prince George's County, Cowling moved to Baltimore in 2019. In 2022 they launched Break A Leg, a party series and safe space for people to dance their pain away, and they've collaborated with RA cover star Zack Fox, Black Rave Culture and Cortisa Star.

"You know how long I been waiting for this. I'm about to make a name for myself," begins RA.1058. From there, Cowling twists through contemporary East Coast club—OSSX, JIALING, JD. Reid, AceMo, DJ Swisha—plus honorary peers Bored Lord, Conducta and Jam City.

Across 38 tracks in 66 minutes, it's high-tempo but not for the sake of it: sometimes coasting, sometimes jumping, sometimes letting it all out. About halfway through, a Tucker Carlson sample calls Baltimore one of the most dangerous cities around. Cowling's answer comes straight after, with the voice of CalvoMusic: "There are beautiful things here, don't come down to play the fuck around."

Find the tracklist and Q&A at ra.co/podcast/1077
@tromac
@breakalegparty
@hochiruns
@3SIDEmusic

An hour of ancient and alien sounds from the Catalan composer and PAN favourite.

Marina Herlop is at once from the future and from the past. The classically trained Catalan singer's voice opens a door onto an older world—a nymph out of a Romantic painting. Underneath, something deeply alien. "When you're writing a song… there's a moment of expulsion, like a squid spitting," she told Pitchfork.

She didn't open a laptop until her third album, learning Ableton from scratch over a fortnight in her father's family home in the Aragon hills. That record, Pripyat, and its follow-up Nekkuja landed on PAN, placing her among the experimental queens like Eartheater and Jenny Hval—with a touch of Björk.

Her RA Mix brings those influences to the surface: classical with a whiff of the strange (Holst's Rig Veda hymns, Sakamoto playing Ravel), music for worlds that don't exist (Ragnarok Online, Jujutsu Kaisen, Morricone) and a study in everything a voice can be made into.

Barely any is club music. Assembled in Ableton—"I don't have access to a CDJ right now," she says—RA.1057 is a soundtrack for decompression. Asked which club shaped her most, she named one that isn't: El Pumarejo, the Barcelona space where she met the musicians still in her band.

Find the Q&A and tracklist at ra.co/podcast/1076
@marinaherlopofficial