A suitably frazzled run of excellent club nights in London has recently re-installed my faith in this capital. The nagging factors of sub-standard sound systems (bereft of anything below the magic 80Hz), overpriced drinks and the fact i cant fucking stand Shoreditch (you try making the schlep from E1 to NW2 after the tubes have shut) have temporarily disappeared.

To be replaced by beautiful music, beautiful people and the 189 bus actually getting home in record time! Skillz! But enough cogitation, I have some more words to post up, to make sure I still get promo's. It makes me feel important.

Anders Ilar: Nightwidth EP (Narita) - 12"

Everyone's favourite Swedish techno meister moves away from the logic-gate propelled abstraction of his 'Enkel' album to more cyclic territories. The A-side crouches down to ground level microscopic techno. Scurrying percussive ants busying themselves around concrete slabs of bass.

But this 12" really belongs to the crystalline beauty of 'A Day Ago'. A naggingly-familar, almost anthemic riff mutates and morphs over time to scraped scorched shuffles and low-end piston kicks. Pay cash for this, yeah?

Whilst i'm in the mood for bigging up Narita, I forgot to mention this little gem of a record. Arctic Hospital's palette is suitably restrictive; delay, relay, bounce and echo. Opening with the fierce 'Cold Wrapper': widescreen capsuled glitch towing along a gargantuan kick-drum. 'Gift Horse' gallops along with addictive urgency and the whole thing reeks of professionalism that's sure to uphold Narita's shareholder value.

False: River Camping (Minus) - 12"

Matthew Dear eases out more minty techno from the never-ending toothpaste tube. We would all head-noddingly agree before we moved swiftly on to more of the same. But the oh-so-special cut of 'Tanning Booths' isn't just a clever title; rippled sub-bass plays havoc with your low-end whilst rotor-blade rhythms circle overhead.

OK, despite the coverage I gave Mike 'Mu-Ziq' Paradinas in my Absorb incarnation, i thought he was losing the plot a bit with his last 'Bilious Paths' long player. His smart and inventive approach to melody and rhythm lost under a sea of DSP overkill with knobs that probably went all the way to 11.

'Ease Up' gives us a chance to revisit the folder labelled 'old school'. Initially sounding like 1990 in stasis, even this caves in to his jackhammer tendencies and we eventually plummet free-fall into the slimepit marked gabba. 'Wergle the Proud' sounds like a lost track off 'Tango'N Vectif'. In other words, ace.

Run/stop, fuzzbox, drum machines gone hyper hyper. The title track snares that distinctive flat electro sound to weave a dark, slightly disturbing ballad of possible (sick) love. 'Soda' sounds like the perfect alternative theme tune for the game show 'Countdown'. 'Breakers Know' tries to body pop to a chewed cassette player. It all reeks of geekdom and is totally sexless, a characteristic prevalent in most electronica. Easy to write off, if it didn't sound so good.

I'd say this is Venetian Snares' least effective statement. Angry, tantrum-induced, hate-filled schims of digital noise that would give you nasty cut if you tried to pick it up. The sheer pace of repeat makes an initial impression, but it lacks that unquantifiable something that exists in say his 'Infolepsy' or 'Meathole' works. Fattening breakcore with a bitter aftertaste.

Minus on a bit of a roll i reckon. Complaints from some known fashionista's that stuff 'is so dry'. But fuck'em, what do they know. Abercombie wearing wankers with haircuts'n iPods. Listening to endless cyclic surges of retro that signifies rock's decline into corporate functionalism. Nah, it's probably best they stay from stuff like this.

The latest in the Limited series from Trapez pushes the buttons marked 'winner'. Bric-a-brac beats and riffs made from micro-droplets of water fall into place with ruthless precision on the opening gambit of 'Painters day'. 'Cold feet' taps muffled MIDI bass to a minimalist template reminiscent of early Plastikman. And the other two tracks on the other side are also annoyingly spiffing. Click here to 'Add to Cart'.

Eevo Lute were one of the more forward thinking European techno labels during the nineties. Responsible for releasing considered, soulful forays into machine funk. Eevo Lute took their time, with only 30 releases covering a 14 year period. I personally thought they'd shut up shop, but was surprised to see this solid offering from Terrace, one of the founders of the label.

Smooth, polished techno that targets a trajectory towards Detroit. All are worthy, but the bouncy pop-jaunt of 'Sonic Solutions' proved a surprise hit around this part of North West London.

No. Skip this. Get the next one. Which sounds loads better. My mate runs this label. He's from up North. But don't hold that against him.