A heart pumping, beat snatching time traveller, Aswad creates vortexes to fall into, tempo to travel them, catharsis to find the exits.
Travels completed, find yourself in a new time and (head)space ravaged but fresh.
Metamorphosing old frustrations into dream swirls, evoking the primal nature of DJ within, a spiral of spinning vinyl, this experience is transposed without filter out through the amplifiers; raw and dark (black as Aswad).
A bridge is formed, crossing between entertainment and spirituality, over a river of physicality, flowing into the creative process, as baffling as it is surprising, using none of the everyday mindset. Instead; it comes out wildly, furiously, frantically, purging the darkness and making a witness of its own creator: Pure trash.
Never wanting to be anything might be the case of many, but beware that there’s always a bitch waiting to hook you! That’s exactly the case for Phil, ironically wanting to do something fresh (trash).
Living up to the statement: “I don’t give a fuck about music (not anymore and not any less than everything else)”, he is about keeping the ‘rave’ young and alive.
It’s basics: A necessity of keeping the crescendo momentum by the end, where the music is played faster. The feeling of being alive and having a choice. An everlasting moment.
This is either a political statement or solely another throwaway line. Who cares?
Embodying the subculture elements; “All should be comfortable in their own trash.”
A non-conformist by nature, Bráulio fathoms a controversial, one-sided ideal: To be trash - a rejected existence. A utopian world claims this scandalous part(y); reality shifts to equality, differences are valued and preserved profoundly.
To materialize this phenomenon, a rhythmic compass must be performed. mixing channels for a round-trip of memories. His music is the heartbeat of now, expressing-self to provoke instinctive expression.
Instant fusion reaction atop of this Era, trash supplying unlimited creative energy to enter to new levels of depth, sparking efforts to produce a viral vibe strain, to impress. Sense the Deepneue(s) of the future. Dance!
Offspring of paradoxical culture, these two exception-al artists found in contrast a comfortable place to be: a masculine force emanating feminine strength, an alter ego Queen of Techno: Donna Tellos.
Formulating music to encourage free movement and invigoration; a new language is invented, free from translation and misinterpretation – their (e)nergy is (=) transferred into (m)inds and (c)onsciousnesses. Reverberating bright sounds – magnetizing stamina.
On the trash set: “Sensors are in absorption mode transforming ether to beats and notes,
only perceived when taken on ya’ass.”
Melting it away (body), creating hot vapour (soul), empowering reactions (dance) are the signature rupture felt from the music of Erta Ale. For whom playing is taking the fucking risk; inhabiting scary, unknown places; a surprise.
First rooted in Orchestra, Ertas structure was reshaped by the burst of arriving in Berlin, it cracked open to experimental and ambient music, then seeping into the rumble of fractured and hard edged, explosive techno.
On the dance floor the experimentation of a listener connected with the desire to abandon the ego, and then all becomes lost through music and being joined to others outside of the box, just being… trash.
Finding her way to the trash heap through love, Flavia has brought a waft of fresh air into the collective’s heart, bringing a sense of power with a fine touch. Magnetized by its freaks from the start, like the ones on Hubbard from the early 2000’s, no words are necessary to explain the unique connection she has found here.
Always feeling fascinated by techno, the transition into becoming a DJ felt natural. By following her instinct, she has become free to express herself through music, and share that with the world.
An Aphrodite behind the decks, a battle-ax producer under the covers, her focus in both pursuits builds energy flows between the beat and its Eros, bringing them together like some distorted, unconventional lovers in the dark.
Omer has been instrumental in creating the sound and feel of TrashEra. After falling in love with the atmosphere and people of the first edition, he’s never looked back.
In fact, he looked forward, and served a great effort into the collective’s future.
Professionally, it’s never been dull at the TrashEra office, even on the straight edge of the room. Fire is in all of the weekly meetings, discussing musical direction and extensive bookings to ensure the uncountable, shameless days of dancing.
Born out of a teenage act of fellatio and angst, it’s a miracle Lipstick Trash wasn’t smudged or erased. Instead, Omer has used it as his voice to express orgasmic feelings. With everlasting power being the nature of his musical work, expect this to stain.
‘I can't say I'm good having sex unless you try me’ - The sexiness and rhythm of Negrot follow her since a very long time, beating hard and groovy. Identifying more like a performer, Djing was something that happened naturally and was planned, mostly because of the connection with music and arts, intertwined.
Being music production her forte and known for creating theatrical electronic music, Aerea mastered the construction of film soundtracks and advertisement, the most exciting creative output she could wish for.
A very special way to put it out feelings and communicate love, through dramatics-dynamics, the tunes have been a way to communicate with family and friends. It is simply an invisible storyboard of emotions, propelled over very special circumstances.
Connected to the the overruled people of the world, being a queen; queer; somethings have no explanation: ‘I just like it trashy, with a funky corner.’ Taste it!
Robots have taken over the world, so:
Who’s fucking me??
In a surrealistic, non (human) reality, machines and synthesisers are genderless genitors.
If there were sound to describe this, it would be Electrosexual. Both slave and master, acting the same role of Queer Bio-Mechanics. It’s new idea of sound from an unexplored zone, composed of misfits, queerdos and beautiful souls.
Harnessing its own purpose powers on music uprising, like a magician creating a new potion. The challenge of creating living things and its dark side. Destruction is creation. A utopian vision come true. Our time. A new era.
Jerome Hill lets his Techno do the talking. You can feel strong love for trash has been a recurrent inspiration for his skilled scratching and mixing style.
If you think that’s all: Don’t (like the label)
30 years of experience in forcing people to listen to stuff he’s into has an impact in how current trends are not an influence on his music and his unpretentious nature.
For the trash family, having the blessing of this Godfather of Techno, magnifies the worth of the struggle, so we can ultimately all dance.
Losing knickers in dark rooms, partying completely soaking wet, forgetting your name, forgetting you are a human being, getting carried out of clubs, peeing in the bath with all of your friends there for your birthday whilst being serenaded by a tin clarinet… If this sounds like more your last weekend, you might want to learn more about Sophie Ruston.
A liberated child of the UK 90s rave movement, Sophie spent years copying tapes from friends, bugging local DJ’s to teach her to spin, and nagging strangers with flyers.
Basically, she needed to get out of the small-town mindset, towards the big stuff.
Always wanting to write a banger – the moodier, drama queen side always seems to come out on top, then enhanced by a journey through Berlin’s nightlife and exposure to an endless array of kinks and fetishes.
Music is unfeigned wisdom, sometimes an escape, other times a bass line therapy. It makes us high. Watching the reaction from a tune-drop, it’s the moment to live for.
Stay tuned: The trash side likes to come out now and then!