Stavroz was formed in 2011 by IJsbrand & Gert, both dj’s and sound engineers looking for a way to channel their musical antics. Soon thereafter, Maxim & Pieter joined on live shows and in the studio. Their first vinyl on Délicieuse Records was picked up on international blogs, resulting in a n°1 position on the Hype Machine and was chosen vinyl of the month by the German ‘Faze Magazine’. Known for injecting an overall ethnic, acoustic and organic vibe to electronic music, these four friends pocketed releases for Kindisch, Bedrock and their own label ‘Moodfamily’ in Ghent.
Their intimate live set and unique dj sets were quickly picked up, sending them on regular trips abroad. Only to return home for some fifa and their weekly show on Belgian National alternative radio ‘Studio Brussel’ where they display an uncanny ability to combine the old with the new and the East with the West.
His music is warm yet melancholic. It’s warm because it feels real. It isn’t excessively happy or sad, but it is beautifully authentic. It makes you feel like you aren’t alone. It is the kind of music that you play during the times that you are spending with yourself, perhaps in those therapeutic spaces where you can just be. You are yourself, you are with you, and you are thoroughly and completely satisfied with your own company. And perhaps a lot of that involves having the right music and being able to create the right vibe.
And that is what this set is for. Well, actually, that is what Getting Deeper is for. It’s for those moments, and those points in time that no one speaks about. Those drifting, transient spaces that are so very special to us, when no one is watching, and no one is listening, and you are the best that you can be. It is those private but inexplicable spaces that Getting Deeper seeks to fills up. And that is why I chose Luca. His music, and this set, are a representation of the passing, and often forgotten but restorative spaces for us.
For those of us who feel a connect with Luca’s type of music, this set will be very tasteful. Deep seated beats, smooth transitions and a minimal attitude makes it a set that is executed with subtlety. It’s earthy with a gorgeously nostalgic overcast.
The simplicity of the set makes it a rarity.
A nomad of modern times, who has travelled the continents with his music, Nu is as diverse in his musical styles as he is well travelled.
Taking influences from his various homes the producer and trained sound engineer branched out into various genres. Through ten years-long musical journey Nu then found his true calling: instrumentals amalgamated with his electronic production all held together through solid rhythms.
Leave the dance floor and dance under the stars. Live the Jungle.
Become your own Medicine.
LUM is above all a spiritual encounter, a ritual séance for the acquisition of one’s essence, a ceremony. In a way, it's also a therapy alleviating personal sorrows and, well, by extension, mitigating the civilizational predicaments. To a certain degree, it's a course in tribal culturology. Fundamentally, it is LUM's dream.
LUM actually lived those spiritualities. More specifically, Sebastian Gandine has been for years observing how music is integrated into native cultures, identifying its social functions, acquainting himself with its principles, learning instruments, recording sounds, participating in various rites -- in the range from passage to burial -- and reinterpreting his multiple findings in the paradigm of digital technologies.
There is much more to it what makes LUM an act so extraordinary and so stupendous. We learn his music originates in his near-death experience dating back to his late adolescence. LUM surprises us by asserting that this experience has been his most astounding, enlightening and liberating trip ever taken, its traumatology notwithstanding. He recalls himself abandoning his body and dissolving into a pure free-flowing consciousness, released from mundane practical concerns, unplugged from the time-space-causality matrix. With the chronometry no longer intrinsically applicable, the ineffable durée could have lasted a nanosecond or millions of years. He remembers the displeasure of recombination and awkwardness of reconnection with his body, his short-circuiting with its basic needs, conditioned reflexes, crude cravings and "robotic" functions.
He astonishes us even further by confessing that his strive as a musician is motivated in great measure toward reaching the heights of pleasure he once accidentally reached by falling down and injuring himself. His playlists, too, are compiled of pieces that remind him of his beautiful death-like adventure beyond his subjectivity.
Which takes us to the question of Ego -- what role it plays in his creativity. Far from an episodic role and it's negative. This explains why every morning starts for the musician with a meditation, in the course of which Sebastian prepares himself for immersion with the world withdrawing himself in contemplation from his false identity which inevitably builds up in social contexts -- in order to preserve his essence; obliterating at the outset a would-be narcissistic search for being loved, validated, appreciated.
To expound on it: as a norm, one's presence on stage in the spotlight evokes all sorts of energies in the crowd -- sexual energies, sympathy, adoration, commitment, but also envy, jealousy, resentment, disapproval... It's vital to abstract oneself from them all, felt favorable or otherwise, so there is nothing in between the musician and his music.
Years down the road from the point of his starting as a producer and performer, LUM would have been by now a household name across the continents -- but for his resolve to remain true to his essence. Sebastian's soul searching for authenticity prompts personal and professional decisions far more radical than cancelation of his Ego under the scrutiny of the Ego-driven audiences and complete self-abstraction away into his music. On the path of maintaining his true being and discovering more of it, Gandine goes so far as to abrogate much of his audience, the size of which is responsible in the equal measure for one's popularity. This he achieves through near absolute refusal to play in clubs entertaining the impersonal masses and in their terms, not especially lofty ones. His generative milieu are small gatherings -- usually in the open -- the audience consisting of friends and their tight circles. A more drastic move in this direction would be to play his music to himself. Which Sebastian most of the time does, anyway, composing it in his studio.
Tulum where LUM currently resides in the self-imposed exile on the run from his native Argentina, to the social scene of which he could not fully connect, not a bit, is fundamentally two things: the jungle and the beach -- the rest is history. It's from the former that LUM extracts much of his élan vital. The beach is just a lot of hot sand, sterile substance; while history -- any history -- is an artificiality, a linguistic construct with little relevance to one's Existenz (the state of a person being himself or herself or both). Where LUM finds real nourishment and empowerment for his genius is in plants. He is very deep into the jungle, conducting his botanical research the same way he has been researching into indigenous music. And very much at the same locations. Plants are always present as decoration for his stance on stage and the stage itself, as elements that comprise the shrine that is usually found next to the mixer -- whether as such, liquefied, dried, as smoke, as smell or already consumed and cognized through their wholesome effects on one's mind and body.