Vinyl LP / CD / Digital
Written and produced by Niagara;
Mastered by Tó Pinheiro da Silva, Artwork by Márcio Matos;
Released September, 2018;

VINYL/DIGITAL: Order from us

A1 – França
A2 – 6:30
A3 – Momento Braga
A4 – 40
B1 – Senhora Do Cabo
B2 – 2042
B3 – Damasco
B4 – Siena
B5 – Graffiti
CD – Via Garibaldi (CD bonus track)
CD – Matriz (CD bonus track)
CD – Cabo Verde (CD bonus track)
CD – O Astro (CD bonus track)


The Donald Duck voice during “França” seems to be adapting to this new world of Niagara. But once you go through the portal, it’s all sunshine and ocean surf.

“Apologia” is the first full-length by the trio of Alberto, António and Sara, expanding their organic machine music into hazy, fresh territories. Most tracks in here are concise, around the 3-minute mark, and they appear to us as openings to a fertile underground stream, ever moving. We are shown glimpses of some other world that simultaneously looks ancient and a patchwork of today’s moods of exotica. Throw in some sparse synth work reminiscent of Blade Runner ‘s skyline and you can hardly tell if this sounds like the future or some distant past.

Longer tracks “6:30” and “Siena” help you settle along this pan-tastic journey, acting as centerpieces to the album. “Siena” displays the loveliest flute vibes and gentle synthetic stabs adding to the groove. Fourth World PLUS.

Vinyl LP; individually hand-painted, hand-stamped copies available for the world.


Unique psychedelic killers from Niagara, mounting a sterling debut album with Lisbon’s Príncipe five years after their first 12”, ‘Ouro Oeste’ [2013]. Trust that they have lost none of the weirdness that’s endeared them to freaks around the world ever since they emerged. If anything they’re stranger, more spaced-out and porous to wild influence…

Outlining Niagara’s definitive description of contemporary exotica, ‘Apologia’ limns a frayed, buzzing sort of “Fourth World PLUS” sound, where the “PLUS” refers to their embrace of noise as an agent of chaos. But it’s not necessarily malefic chaos, and should be taken as a smart acknowledgement of the overlooked yet crucial role that roughness of grain and construction play in contrast with so many clinically smooth and even anodyne efforts from the same, imagined arena of worldly music for a new age.

In allowing for the entropy of time and the inevitable infidelity of attrition to enter their soundsphere, Niagara’s organic machine music keenly reflects a natural world order without the need for algorithmic process. Their world is a fertile interplay of acoustic and electronic sources rendering hazy, fata morgana-like glimpses of musical possibility, practically triangulating the visions of likeminds such as Jamal Moss/Hieroglyphic Being and Dolo Percussion with the explorative precedents of Portugul’s Telectu to realise a fine expression of anachronistic modernism.

Most of the tracks loosely work around 3 minute timeframes, lending a zig-zagging mosaic quality to the tracklist in between its longer parts. Richly colourful spiritual jazz arps and raw machine grooves spring from opener ‘França’, triggering a cascade of ideas that bends between acidic kosmiche in ‘6:30’ to the heatsick boogie gliss of ’40’ and the stark emptiness of ‘Senhora Do Cabo’, to give up the gorgeous, extended flute and acid meditation ’Siena’, and mess with Vangelis-style synth majesty on ‘Via Garibaldi’, before spending their coolest energies in the drowsy Afro-latin swagger of ‘Cabo Verde.’

It’s hard to ignore the fact that Alberto, António and Sara a.k.a. Niagara have distilled their sound to imperfection on ‘Apologia’, resulting one of 2018’s most crucial and vital electronic albums.
Boomkat, September 2018

Over the past seven years, Lisbon label Príncipe has become closely aligned with the dynamic style known as batida, a homegrown hybrid of Afro-Lusophone diasporic sounds like kuduro, tarraxinha, and kizomba. A little like Chicago footwork, it has gained a global foothold despite marginalized origins, turning producers like DJ Marfox, Nídia, and DJ Nigga Fox into artists of worldwide renown. But Príncipe’s remit extends beyond batida: The label’s second release, issued the same year as DJ Marfox’s debut, came from Photonz, a techno producer with a soft spot for early-’90s trance. The Portuguese electronic trio Niagara soon stepped up with five tracks of wonky, lo-fi house music steeped in Italo disco.

Niagara put out another EP, Ímpar, in 2015—virtually the only non-batida release to appear on Príncipe in the years after the their label debut—and now they are back with their first full-length album. But something has changed in the past three years. Where the toe-scuffing Ímpar tipped its hat to Metro Area and DFA, Apologia finds them building out their own soundworld, one that has less to do with established categories than chasing hard-to-define moods.

As is the case with a lot of questing, imaginative electronic music from recent years—Jan Jelinek, Andrew Pekler, Visible Cloaks—it’s not always easy to tell if this stuff is old or new, or even its hemisphere of origin. Zigzagging synth arpeggios drizzle over rudimentary drum-machine grooves, and conga taps arrive with the slow, steady drip of a leaky faucet; out-of-phase patterns circle each other like a dog chasing its own tail. It’s rickety but beautiful, janky keyboards and intercepted radio signals shot through with stumbling thumb piano and graceful synth pads. With instrumentation heavy on hand percussion, harp-like glissandi, and other new-age trappings, a tropical vibe prevails.

Despite the relatively high humidity, Niagara don’t seem interested in standard-issue chillout. Unease lurks below the surface of their blissfully lopsided machine jams. In the opening “França,” a manic, distorted voice—like Donald Duck on a bender—cuts against placid chimes and rippling ride cymbals. On “6:30,” mismatched synth loops and a dully repetitive groove spin in wobbly circles, while pastel chords flare up in the background, cartoonish and wistful.

Niagara find a certain strength in withholding. Many tracks feel like they could kick off at any moment; throw in a heavy bass drum, and you could confuse them for nightclub barnstormers. But the trio seems to realize that to lean too hard on the drums would be to overwhelm the music’s intricate architecture of interconnected loops. Take “Momento Braga,” in which screen-door squeak, pinball ping, R2-D2 chirps, and earthy marimba weave together seamlessly and glisten in midair, like a spiderweb. An echoing voice bobs at the center of it all, something caught within the song’s sticky matrix.

The most captivating material verges upon pure ambient. That goes for the beat-less “Senhora do Cabo,” just two synth chords drifting above vaporous tones, and the pulse-heavy “Damasco,” where a lilting synth lead trips over leathery congas. It has rhythm but no real forward motion, spinning in place like a mobile. “Via Garibaldi,” a bonus cut not included on the vinyl edition, pairs the tape-delayed synths of Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works Vol. II with a ring-modulated voice that sounds like a garbled radio transmission snagged straight from space. (There are four such bonus tracks, and they are among the best here; choose your format wisely.) “O Astro,” another bonus, might be a field recording played back on a malfunctioning reel-to-reel deck.

Niagara’s resourcefulness suggests a castaway’s ingenuity, using unconventional techniques to unlock new territories. Cobbled together out of ethnographic recordings, distant shortwave signals, and idiosyncratic synths, Apologia sets its sights on an elusive state of transcendence. Consider it an escape vehicle to spirit listeners away from the failures of what more efficient, more expensive methods of music-making have wrought.
Pitchfork, September 2018



One hour of Príncipe favourites and a couple of unreleased titles for Steve Barker‘s On The Wire show (BBC Radio Lancashire). Click image to access show and full 2-hour OTW playlist.

DJ Noronha – África Congo – Principe
DJ Firmeza – Coelho 2025 – Principe
RS – Guerreiro – Principe
DJ Kolt & DJ Perigoso – Comandante Em Chefe – Principe
P. Adrix – Tejo – Principe
Niagara – Siena – Principe
DJ Lycox – Solteiro – Principe
Nídia – Underground – Principe
DJ NinOo – Ambientes Leves – Principe
Niagara – França – Principe
RS – Caipirinha – Principe
DJ Marfox – Bit Binary – Principe
Niagara – Damasco – Principe
DJ Kolt & Dj Noronha – Batidongo – Principe
DJ Nervoso – Ah Ah – Principe
Niagara – 2042 – Principe
RS – Abertura – Principe
Nídia – Puro Tarraxo – Principe


DJ Marfox is the alias of Marlon Silva, the protagonist of Lisbon’s bubbling Afro-Portuguese electronic music scene. He first connected with music in the early 2000s when he heard Kuduro artist DJ Nervoso playing at a party, and left feeling inspired to begin producing his own music. “If I hadn’t witnessed that, perhaps I wouldn’t be here today,” he said in an earlier interview with Thump. He soon learned the basics of FruityLoops and teamed up with high school friends DJ Nervoso, DJ Nk, DJ Fofuxo, DJ Jesse, and DJ Pausas as DJs Do Ghetto, throwing parties around the city before issuing DJs do Ghetto Vol. I, a 37-track digital compilation shining a light on the local artists. This marked the beginnings of Lisbon’s batida movement, the sounds of which incorporate African-influenced dance music such as kuduro, kizomba, funaná, and tarraxinha with traditional house and techno. Those involved invariably came from working-class backgrounds and used cheap, but accessible software.

Silva began working as Marfox around this period, the alias a combination of his first initial and Star Fox 64, his favorite Nintendo 64 sci-fi shoot-em-up game. He uploaded several tracks via YouTube and some music blogs before releasing 2011’s Eu Sei Quem Sou, a debut EP via fledgling Príncipe Discos. Further releases soon came, as did booking requests from all over the world. DJ Marfox and his homegrown sound were on the rise—and this international acclaim has only continued to grow, evidenced by Warp’s 2015 Cargaa series, aimed directly at highlighting the “cream-of-the-crop purveyors of Lisbon’s thrilling electronic dance scene.”

Silva still resides in Lisbon but his name is known far beyond the city’s borders. He’s performed at some key festivals around the world, from Unsound and CTM, MoMA PS1 Warm Up Series, and Red Bull Festival in New York to Novas Frequências in Rio de Janeiro and Nyege Nyege in Uganda. Touring with reasonable frequency, he’s a purveyor of an intense but rhythmic blend of percussive techno that bears great reference to his batida roots, and his podcast for XLR8R provides a snapshot of this sound with 60 minutes of exhilarating grooves.

What have you been up to recently?
Besides traveling for shows, I’ve been going out a bit to listen to other national and international DJs, and also been focusing on listening to the new music coming from Cabo Verde.

When and where was the mix recorded?
This mix was recorded in my home studio, where everything starts but nothing gets finished!

What equipment did you record it on?
I used two Pioneer DJ XDJ-1000MK2 and a Pioneer DJM-750 MK2 Mixer.

How did you select the tracks that you included?
It was a balanced selection of tracks, including a harmonious sequence of my old and new tracks, and of other colleagues in the Príncipe label.

Was there a particular idea or mood you were looking to convey?
It’s always about wanting to make the mix as powerful as possible—something that people can still listen to it in 10 years and find it super fresh.

Can we expect some more material from you soon?
Yes, I’m working on a new EP, but I’m still trying to figure out the right journey to offer to listeners.

What else have you got coming up?
What I can advise but not disclose is that you keep your ears out for the new records to be released on Príncipe because there’s a lot of very good stuff coming out.


Vinyl 12″ / Digital
Written and produced by DJ Lilocox;
Mastered by Tó Pinheiro da Silva, Artwork by Márcio Matos;
Released May, 2018;

VINYL/DIGITAL: Order from us

A1 – Vozes Ricas
A2 – Ritmo & Melodias
B1 – Paz & Amor
B2 – Samba
B3 – Fronteiras


The sprawling ambience we hear throughout “Paz & Amor” unveils the present stage of the fascinating aesthetic progression Lilocox has been sharing with the world ever since this Eurochild of Cape Verdean descent started to produce his original music. Lilocox comes out in open field, with a lot more space, building the groove around complex rhythm grids now unfolding peacefully. He scored a bouncier underground hit with “La Party” back in 2015, coming from a background of intricate batida drum patterns but his sights reached further and further away into deeper territory.

“Ritmos E Melodias” seems to split into two parallel tracks at some point with the house beat balanced by a background rattle more commonly associated with the slower tarraxo vibes. “Samba” is fully-formed from the very beginning but the kick only comes in around the 2-minute mark, joining a bleepy substitute for a bassline. In fact, you will find this music practically does away with the need for a bassline because the rhythm inventions keep the feet moving effortlessly. It might seem strange that a genre seemingly rooted in classic house can stay focused on the dancefloor without a bassline, but the skeleton of these tracks is naturally strong and provides all the necessary ground for ambience and melody to shine.

And they do shine universally on “Fronteiras”, an intensely emotional and catchy tune WITH a bassline, though very discrete and minimal. It follows the beat more or less independently, but its presence helps to consolidate the human bond we should all feel when exposed to these celestial harmonies. “Fronteiras” seems to contradict its very title.

Vinyl 12″; individually hand-painted, hand-stamped copies available for the world.


Paz E Amor, or “peace and love”, is the solo début of deep, hypnotic Batida grooves by DJ Lilocox. A longtime core member of Lisbon’s Príncipe label, Lilocox is one third of the PDDG (Piquenos DJs Do Guetto) crew beside DJs Firmeza and Maboku, and accounts for half of CDM (Casa Da Mãe), also with Maboku. In solo mode Lilocox alloys sensuous atmospheres with rolling percussion in a widely appealing style that resonates with the slickness of the Sonhos & Pesadelos LP by his near namesake, DJ Lycox, but personalised by more spacious production values and a rugged vision of dancefloor romance and energy.
With the CDM project on hold for now, DJ Lilocox presents a more mature sound now characterised by his focus on rhythmelodic cadence and synthetic sensuality. Between the EP’s lusting highlight in the Ron Trent-esque Afrohouse of Fronteiras, to the starker, Gqom-Like tension of Ritmo e Melodias, Lilocox plays to the ‘floor’s timeless needs in a ruggedly forward manner, deftly shifting his weight from a pendulous footing of Vozes Ricas to the woodblock knocks and drones of Paz e Amor and the snake-hipped swinge of Samba with the dancer’s balance and emotions always a priority.
After the scorching début EP from P. Adrix, the first solo DJ Lilocox record perfectly demonstrates his depth and diversity whilst maintaining Príncipe’s rarely paralleled and flawless reputation for the freshest, timelessly effective dance music.

Boomkat, May 2018

On DJ Lilocox’s latest single, “Vozes Ricas” (“rich voices” in Portuguese) there is very little in the way of actual vocals. Instead, the Manchester-based, Portugal-born producer crafts a new, stirring language with an expansive palette of percussion. “Vozes Ricas” is the lead single from Lilocox’s debut EP for Príncipe Discos, Paz & Amor, and it affirms his ability to make thoughtful dance music without so much as a word—or even a bassline.
The types of drums punctuating “Vozes Ricas” are too numerous to categorize, and they ricochet off each other like rubber bullets fired at cement walls. A few distinct beats ring out, however, from floor toms, congas, and sizzling crash cymbals, their chaotic conversation resembling a heated debate between a dozen politicians. In the background, pulses of synths and 8-bit chirps try to butt into the conversation, but the rhythm section maintains the most compelling component, suggesting fierce and free motion. “Vozes Ricas” may be a wordless song, but DJ Lilocox’s repertoire of rhythms speaks volumes.

Pitchfork track review, May 2018


Vinyl 12″ / Digital
Written and produced by P. Adrix;
Mastered by Tó Pinheiro da Silva, Artwork by Márcio Matos;
Released February, 2018;

VINYL/DIGITAL: Order from us

A1 – Zelda Shyt
A2 – Bola de Cristal
A3 – 6.6.6
A4 – Estação de Queluz
A5 – Ovni
B1 – Abertura da Roda
B2 – Sonhos
B3 – Tejo
B4 – Viva La Raça


Adrix (P stands for Produtor) is one of those contemporary puzzles: born and raised in Lisbon, of Angolan descent, he moved to Manchester at 19, three years ago. We can say the nervous interplay between bass and beat stems from just that. Fierce, techy, twitchy grooves run through the whole of “Álbum Desconhecido”. It’s in the blood. Not surprisingly, Adrix has a soft spot for drum n bass but that’s because it clicked with the adrenalin rush leaping out of kuduro, his true long-standing obsession. The shiny synth washes on a track such as “Viva La Raça” come from that place in the future where everything is that bit more synthetic, kind of dangerous and uncertain, and then there’s a glimpse of Portugal in “Tejo”, soulful, real, imagined. As are the dreamy tones of “Estação de Queluz”, an actual suburban train station that will probably never again be glorified with such love.

But we feel we need to stay close to the jaw-dropping moment when we first heard his music and that can be defined by the title “Ovni”. We are not creating, we are transmitting. What do we know? “So that at last, as though out of some trivial and unimportant region beyond even distance, the sound of it seems to come slow and terrific and without meaning, as though it were a ghost travelling a half mile ahead of its own shape. ‘That far within my hearing before my seeing,’ Lena thinks.” Light in August, William Faulkner

Vinyl 12”; individually hand-painted, hand-stamped copies available for the world.


Príncipe kick off 2018 in a big way with the remarkable début by P. (as in ‘Producer’) Adrix; a 22 year old artist originally from Lisbon, now based in Manchester, who is equally adept at crafting full tilt, teched-out bangers as effervescent electronic soul music. His first release, Álbum Desconhecido is a supreme example of the innovative scenius in Angolan-Portuguese music, ratcheting the thrilling dynamics of Lisbon’s ghetto bass sound with deadly edits and pressure highly compatible with the UK’s jump-up jungle, drill or soca grime vibes.
Building on ground-breaking work forwarded by producer/DJs Marfox, Nervoso, Nídia and Lycox in recent years, Álbum Desconhecido is jaw-droppingly fresh, even by Príncipe’s up-to-the-second standards. And like Lycox, who hails from Angola and Lisbon via France, it’s fair to say that P. Adrix’s relative detachment from Lisbon has also led him to break the kuduro mould in scintillating new ways, effectively mapping out and recombining a glowing flux of ideas circulating the Black Atlantic diaspora.
Delivered in 9 short sharp stings between the seasick drill of Zelda Shyt and the laser-guided trance lixx of Viva La Raça, Adrix trades in a mix of virulent, adrenalised energy and soulful rollige that sets fire to any ‘floor across the breadth of Álbum Desconhecido. It’s clear and present in the turbulent, rug-pulling subs and febrile polyrhythms of Bola De Cristal, and to blinding degrees in the high-wire tension and bone-freezing edits of 6.6.6, whereas the zipping flutes of Ovni bind roots and future with breathtaking, needlepoint incision, leaving Sonhos to provide a dead sweet, even romantic contrast with the melancholic meditation of Tejo for fine measure.
After encountering Álbum Desconhecido, there can be little doubt that Adrix is making some of the most exciting dance music in the world right now – a boldly expressive and immediately effective sound that drives listeners to a rare but timeless sort of rave ecstasy – thrillingly synthetic and infused with an unmistakeable lust for the dance. In the right hands, it’s dangerous stuff. You’ve been warned!

Boomkat, February 2018

Adrix vai parecer aos ingleses como um produto de influência doméstica, uma vez que eles está baseado em Manchester há 3 anos. Misteriosos são os caminhos da batida de Lisboa. Em “Bola De Cristal”, a linha de baixo pode lembrar UK mas os pratos são de outro continente e o elemento de tarraxo infiltrado no meio do espaço sónico é também indubitavelmente outra geografia. O fluir nervoso da linha de baixo nas faixas neste mini-álbum é talvez o elemento que unifica a assinatura do Produtor Adrix. Tudo o resto é extraído da sua interpretação muito pessoal de kuduro e é livre de constrangimentos. Um ambiente quase romântico como o de “Estação De Queluz” parece reescrever a atmosfera da Linha de Sintra para uma experiência de melancolia e saudade. Essa reforçada em “Tejo”, cujo corte de guitarra bem claro pode ser uma verdadeira ode à tradição sem precisar de samplar melodias de Carlos Paredes. “Álbum Desconhecido” encerra a explicação de si mesmo no sentido em que a produção de Adrix não é bem comparável nem com o catálogo anterior da Príncipe nem com material editado com o qual tenhamos contactado. Que força, aqui.
Flur, February 2018

Mind bending, fearless blend of Kuduro & Grime derivatives – pure beat science 2nd to none
Hardwax, February 2018

The seemingly endless pool of talent at the core of the Príncipe label turns in possibly its most dynamically fwd focused release yet with Álbum Desconhecido by P. Adrix.
Across 21 odd minutes, the Lisbon raised but currently Manchester based producer turns in some of the most deadly transfixions of grime, techno and bass we’ve heard in recent years.
Opener Zelda Shyt perfectly sets the scene with the sort of shank riddims that made all of Danny Weed’s early 00’s productions such vital wax. Estação De Queluz mixes up some very DIY Rain Treanor percussion with tears in the club pads. While Viva La Raça snakes towards 2 step mode, yet sees it falling into some dazzling, euphoric catchment areas. Top it all off with a generous amount of P. Adrix bars and you have another excellent release on Príncipe.

Bleep, February 2018

Nídia em Bordéus, Lycox em Paris, P. Adrix em Manchester: o catálogo da Príncipe não é apenas uma clara montra da batida de Lisboa, é igualmente um mapa da diáspora. A disseminação global do som que a nossa “afro Lisboa” viu nascer sob tantos olhares desconfiados sobre a sua validade estética é uma realidade que resulta de ambição artística — certamente — mas também uma objectiva consequência das naturais necessidades dos que habitam as periferias: não apenas geográficas, mas também sociais ou culturais. Parece haver apenas duas opções: tomar de assalto o centro ou tentar a sorte noutro subúrbio, noutra equação, noutra realidade.
E talvez isso explique a melancolia que atravessa Álbum Desconhecido que P. Adrix agora apresenta na Príncipe e que desemboca no oblíquo assomo fadista de “Tejo”, tema que abre o último terço do alinhamento e que se faz de um loop de cordas que são tão digitais quanto de aço, tão reais quanto imaginadas. Consequência de uma saudade alimentada pela distância? Mais do que provável. Mas tudo isso acontece porque, como será possível até certo ponto inferir pelos títulos, muitos destes temas funcionam como “retratos”: senão de lugares (“Tejo”, “Estação de Queluz”), talvez de momentos (“Zelda Shyt”, “Abertura de Roda”), de sentimentos (“Viva La Raça”) ou emoções (“Ovni”, “Sonhos”).
O “P.” que precede Adrix, esclarece-nos logo na sua abertura o texto que serve de apresentação de Álbum Desconhecido na plataforma Bandcamp, é inicial da palavra Produtor. Poderemos ver na utilização desse designativo o vincar de uma diferença em relação a muitos dos outros artistas do catálogo que não abdicam do prefixo DJ nas suas identidades artísticas (DJ Marfox, DJ Nigga Fox, DJ Lycox, DJ Firmeza…). Ou seja, um criador menos atraído pela gestão da eficácia para a pista de dança e mais interessado na exploração das possibilidades discursivas ao seu alcance? Talvez. O que não significa que P. Adrix descarte por completo a procura de eficácia de pista nas suas criações: logo no tema de abertura, “Zelda Shyt”, o jovem de 22 anos que aos 19 anos se estabeleceu em Inglaterra, procura demonstrar que apesar de ter a cabeça no espaço, a sua música nunca se afasta em demasia da órbita do planeta kuduro, ainda que a sua trajectória elíptica o possa trazer mais perto ou levar para longe da sua força gravitacional. Como acontece, por exemplo, no belíssimo “Estação de Queluz”, que no seu desenho melódico de tons menores revela uma natural saudade de momentos certamente especiais, provavelmente vividos com amigos. E lá está a psicogeografia periférica a assumir um lugar distinto neste tal mapa que o catálogo Príncipe também desenha.
A parte final do álbum, com “Sonhos”, primeiro, “Tejo”, logo depois, mas também “Viva La Raça”, representa o mais importante depósito de tons nostálgicos que pontuam todo o alinhamento. São temas em que o “produtor” assume o comando, com uma óbvia ambição narrativa e discursiva. Adrix não quer apenas agitar a pista, quer também ilustrar os filmes que rodam na sua cabeça e consegue-o com momentos de uma singular beleza: “Sonhos” flutua, literalmente, nos nossos ouvidos, mercê de um arranjo etéreo que parece capaz de nos elevar uns quantos centímetros acima do chão. E “Tejo”, como já sugerido, parece querer agarrar numa ideia tradicional de Lisboa e projectá-la no futuro, como se os Dead Combo de repente colaborassem num tema original com Jlin depois de saírem de madrugada de uma noite Príncipe no Cais do Sodré. O tríptico conclui-se com “Viva La Raça” que ao kick insistente contrapõe uma flauta moldada pela força do MIDI a um crescendo que poderíamos descrever como épico ou dramático.
É um ponto final perfeito para um álbum conciso, mas a transbordar de ideias, a que se regressa uma e outra vez com idêntica e renovada paixão porque há sempre um novo ângulo, um novo gancho que nos segura e nos agarra. Na versão digital há mais um tema bónus a considerar, um autêntico “Tornado” em que a “dikanza” da funda identidade angolana de Adrix é projectada no espaço sideral numa autêntica explosão rítmica a que é impossível resistir.
O catálogo da Príncipe, como o universo de resto, continua a expandir-se, não apenas em tamanho, mas também em ideias válidas para o futuro, fundamentais para o presente. A de P. Adrix resulta num Álbum Desconhecido, mas perfeitamente acessível.

Rimas E Batidas, February 2018

I mean, P. Adrix’s new album just wants you to move, wherever you could be, in whatever sphere of unnameability that haunts you or whatever iteration that recurs in your life, binding it into poetry. However your life fits or chafes against the context of Album Desconhecido’s syntax, however it produces tiny kinks in the flow — like a calcium deposit in a kidney — just move, even if only glancingly. For from there, in that sphere of untouchability, and within that movement, can we, like the name of this album, become, somehow, unknown.
The attraction of these kuduro tracks lies in how they specifically draw attention to how danceable they are, but also how they are rough and jagged and irregular and encoded onto streets and embedded into walls and strewn forth onto cellphones, with no true center for where they exist except the Bandcamp page from which they came and the computer from which they were birthed. Maybe a couple of suburbs of big cities like Lisbon and Luanda could potentially be the cultural center, but they are not, for P. Adrix lives in Manchester. That this album participates in a cultural maelstrom also means that it comes from that same maelstrom — that of the digitally disconnected bodies of producers and dancers and DJs and little kids kicking a soccer ball with this playing on a cellphone and the music enthusiasts in the nightclub listening to this, heads moving, feet moving, eyes in a trance.
It sounds sometimes swampy, or crumply, like a composition notebook dragged onto concrete and forced into a nightclub, or a poster ripped off from its wall and turned into a drum kit. “Viva la Raça” sounds more angelic and lofty than the others, mostly because of its timbre, which sounds tranquil and made of air, or feathers, or whatever material an angel’s wings would be made of — perhaps the hair of God? What binds these tracks is their lack of any true crescendo or climax or conclusion: they just kind of exist, do what they need to do for a couple of minutes, and end, like a spermatozoid that’s lost its way and doesn’t dare ask directions. Any kind of simulation of the Divine or lofty critique of the Establishment will be left for the other music critics to decode. For me, their remote denseness suits us, and the obsolescence of P. Adrix points toward the idea that, in the nightclub, your status means nothing to the music.

Tiny Mix Tapes, March 2018

For tight-knit crews like Príncipe Discos, proximity is everything. Rooted on the outskirts of Lisbon, the niche label of DJs and producers has invigorated the city’s underground dance-music scene by drawing international attention to batida, the percussive, polyrhythmic sound popularized by immigrants from war-torn Angola and other former Portuguese colonies. Príncipe has expanded cautiously, in an effort to protect the community sound from exploitation and appropriation. So what happens when an artist relocates and the collective is forced to relax its grip? In the case of P. Adrix, a young producer who moved from Lisbon to Manchester, England, in 2015, the answer is Álbum Desconhecido, a riveting debut with a dual-citizen sensibility. Selectively fusing his native batida with elements of jungle, grime, and drum ‘n’ bass, he deftly links two hotbeds of electronic music and creates something entirely new.
Conceived in Lisbon’s vast slums and suburbs, batida is a hybrid of traditional African rhythms—Angolan kuduro, kizomba, and zouk, among others—and contemporary electronic dance music. It gained traction in 2012 as Príncipe waded into block parties boasting minimal equipment and big beats. The sound is marked by frantic synths and fierce, choppy drum patterns, its turbulence and dizzying repetition reflecting Lisbon’s tumultuous political climate. As Príncipe co-founder Pedro Gomes told Pitchfork in 2014, “We were looking for contemporary manifestations and evolutions of Angolan and Verdean music that reacted to being from there and now living here.”
But just as emigration from Luanda to Lisbon turned kuduro into batida, so the sound has continued to evolve as it has been carried out of Portugal and into new countries. Nowhere is this happening as radically or artfully as on Desconhecido, which rounds up all of the original ingredients and bakes them in enthralling new forms. It’s reassuring to see Príncipe broadening its horizons; the label has recently supported more experimental projects, like DJ Nigga Fox’s longform acid 12-inch and the unexpected melodies DJ Lycox unveiled in a mix for the Astral Plane. The traditional rhythms underpinning batida still inform these releases, but they no longer exclusively define them. The same can be said for Desconhecido. Moving at a breakneck pace, Adrix takes listeners on a rollercoaster of twitchy techno, whinnying flutes, furious breakbeats, and sensual soul.

Pitchfork, March 2018