Every new release gives us a little rush, and real satisfaction once it lands. What follows is a sequence of scenes and angles, all rooted in a shared dub foundation. Across four tracks, Spectral Model conjures images of the tropics and their tribal drums, intricate shamanic voices wrapped in psychogenic delay, deep illustrations cut with hi-hat breaks, and a tight, technical underground core. Dig in.

.

The Astrojet carried Spacelunch and Cat in an unknown direction, weaving between asteroids at tremendous speed. A hollow feeling crept up their throats, leaving only the occasional swallow. Both had been quiet for a long time, so the first word pierced the silence like a splinter.

"I have déjà vu."

"What do you mean by that?!"

"We never should've got mixed up in that damn auction."

"Don't start, furball. Melvin will turn up."

"I just hope in one piece…"

The Professor looked away, uploaded the map, and pressed his finger on a blinking dot. It marked the nearest moon — somewhere to catch their breath and figure out a plan. The onboard computer traced the route and announced they were approaching the gravitational field. Only minutes to landing.

"I can't take this anymore. My brain is completely fried."

"I've got nothing either, Doc."

"We'll stop at some local place, get a bite, and work out where to start looking."

The staff at the empty café "Sam's" were glad to have visitors and took their order right away. A welcome treat on the house was already on the table, inviting the two wanderers to sample not only the local food but a heated argument yet to come. The evening was off to a rough start.