Unknown T - Time Flies

Interview by Joe Leonard-Walters | Edited by Passion DzengaLaunching in 2021, Echobox has been steadily building a reputation as one of the most exciting voices in community radio, spotlighting the characters, crate diggers, selectors, and sonic explorers that make up its unique broadcast universe. In this feature, we dive into the world of Rambo Boy$, a duo that’s been with the station since day one, pushing an infectious blend of deep cuts, deadpan humour, and unfiltered conversation.More than just a radio show, the Rambo Boy$ bring their own philosophy—what they call Rambo Science—to the airwaves: a love for offbeat records, an aversion to musical pretension, and a belief that good radio should be as much about jokes, football, and family life as it is about dusty B-sides.From Philadelphia novelty electro to psychedelic disco garage cuts, they serve up sonic oddities with a side of banter that’s as real as it gets. So get locked in and don’t touch that dial—we’re going deep with the Rambo Boy$.What's up Rambo Boy$, I've always wondered where you got your name?There is a rap record called, Rap-N-Scratch goes rambo by M.C. Nikke & DJ Rap-N-Scratch. It's not the best record made but it's Rambo, to explain what Rambo means we suggest to listen 2 it.. It's has been the unofficial anthem for us since wayback, and when Bart and I started doing radio together it was a no brainer what the name should be, Rambo Boys.What are the main principles of Rambo Boy$ science?I believe the best way to describe Rambo science is this. We come from a "diggers" background I guess. We've been looking for fly records for a long time, and we always took great pride in not playing the most obvious shit in the range of hip hop, soul rock and what not.. Some call it rare, or slept on stuff or whatever, we call it Rambo, for us not stating the obvious when it comes to music is common behaviour, we are students and fans of anything Rambo.. But I guess our number one principle is that we don't get pretentious about the music. On the radio show we prefer talking about soccer, make a few shitty jokes here and there, discuss a bit of family life, instead of talking matrix numbers, first pressings and other obvious stuff that comes with record collecting. Rambo Boys is for the people! Are there any standout records that sum up the Rambo Boy$ attitude?Offcourse, we can even give you two! Rodney Jerome Keitt - West Oak Lane, a killer novelty electro ish record from Philadelphia with stupid fly lazerbeam sounds and Rodney playing a kazoo flute, the Rambo Boys would give their left nutt to be around when this was recorded.Gregory Andre and two plus three - I want to be with you. A psychedelic disco record that sounds like it has been recorded in somebody's garage. Which is probably the case. It's from San Diego, but to us it sounds like the Bronx looked in the eighties, probably because the beginning reminds us of Grandmixer DST playing keys live in the Bronx River Centre in 1982.You've been with Echobox since the very beginning, do you have a show that stands out as your favourite?if you don't mind we have to give you a top 4.The Heavy Heavy Radioshow by Taco FettStrictly Tapes by Anan StrikerHarvest Time by Ketama ManVersion Galore by Kraze Money aka General KA small disclaimer, this is Eelco 5000, but i'm pretty sure Lovebug Bart approves; Shabba!Echobox Radio has long been a space for sonic exploration and boundary-pushing broadcasts—and few shows capture that spirit quite like 333. Formed organically through a series of shared lineups and long conversations outside the club, 333 is more than a DJ trio; it’s a project rooted in friendship, experimentation, and a deep belief in the power of collaboration.Their styles may differ, but behind the decks, 333 operates with a kind of telepathic synergy that belies their short history. What started as a spontaneous B3B has grown into a platform that thrives on unpredictability—from themed mixes and unconventional back-to-backs to digging through playlists curated by non-DJs. Their Echobox residency has become a space to challenge norms, explore sound in playful ways, and champion community voices.With their first event on the horizon and a shared vision inspired by Brian Eno’s concept of scenius, 333 is less interested in solo stardom and more focused on building a creative scene where everyone can shine. From DIY ethos to silver pearl jokes, this trio is here to stir things up—in the booth and beyond.You all have your fledgling solo careers, but how did the story of 333 begin?We were booked together on several lineups and quickly became excited about each other's sound. Outside the club, we connected further - spending hours talking about what draws us to DJing, community, and sound. Despite our slightly different styles and approaches to DJ sets, we discovered a shared perspective and deep common ground. That connection became even more apparent when the three of us were programmed to play together for the first time. None of us had ever done a B3B set before, but it felt like we had been playing together forever.Through our residency at Echobox radio, we’re exploring the craft of DJing in playful and challenging ways - curating unexpected back-to-backs, creating themed mixes, or building sets from the playlists of non-DJ diggers. This spirit of experimentation is essential to us; it pushes us to discover new genres, connect with different voices in the scene, and keep learning.We’re currently planning our first event, where we aim to book artists who inspire our sound and aren’t afraid to take creative risks in their sets. With both our events and radio show, our goal is to foster a community where diverse sounds, ideas, and people can express themselves freely - and, most importantly, have a great time.Why is collaboration so important to you?Collaboration means a lot to us, and it makes things more fun, more surprising. We love seeing what happens when different people bring their own energy, taste, and perspective. Inspired by Brian Eno’s idea of scenius, we believe creativity thrives in shared spaces, where curious and passionate people come together. With 333, we want to create those kinds of moments: where people step into each other’s worlds, spark unexpected connections, and build something together that would not exist otherwise!“Brian Eno’s scenius idea says that big creative ideas don’t just come from one genius, but from a whole group of people working together. When artists, thinkers, and friends share ideas and support each other, amazing things can happen. It's not just about one person—it’s about the creative energy of the whole scene.”The supergroup is nothing new, do you have any that you look up to? McBusted? Boygenius?We found a funny comparison with Skrillex (silver pearl), Fred Again (Helmond Lang) and Four Tet (Dirtydms).Between the 3 of you you have 6 sleeves, you must have something up them?! What's coming up for 333?Our first event of many!!! We will elaborate more about this in our next episode on Echobox Radio.Tune in to Echobox - broadcasting from below sea level every week, Wednesday until Saturday.

Interview by Passion DzengaFrom East London to Botswana, Brunei, and now Belgium, Bex has been quietly building a global sound rooted in raw honesty and musical versatility. With a journey shaped by continents and cultures, he’s not just another artist—you’re looking at someone who's lived the rhythm, not just studied it. His new acoustic EP marks a bold departure from trap and wave, diving deep into themes of vulnerability, mental health, and modern romance, wrapped in stripped-back production that keeps it painfully real.Now headlining his own shows and gaining recognition from platforms like Colors and Dazed, it’s time to get familiar with a voice that’s resonating far beyond his growing fan base. Bex is proof that delusion can sometimes be a superpower, especially when it’s backed by undeniable talent and tireless work. And whether it’s looping guitar riffs at home, engaging with fans on Discord, or preparing for a fully acoustic tour, one thing’s clear—this is an artist we got love for.You've been on quite a journey, from East London to Botswana to Belgium. How have these different places shaped your sound and your identity as an artist?Yeah, definitely. So, being born in London, my first memories of music and influence came through my big brother and UK hip hop. Then I moved to Botswana where I was involved in all sorts of musical activities—playing in a Mima band, singing in a choir, playing flute in an orchestra. My mom really encouraged all that, and I appreciate it now. Later, I moved to Brunei and joined a band, though I wasn’t too immersed in the local scene there. But I was still picking up different rhythmic and melodic ideas. That’s also where I started guitar lessons properly. Then I came to Belgium, continued guitar, and by the age of 16, I decided to focus on being a vocalist. I was already making beats using GarageBand on my laptop as I traveled. It was a bit messy, but it was the start.You were trained on guitar and flute, and played in a Mima band. How have those diverse musical experiences shaped the sound of your acoustic EP?At the time I was focused on certain instruments, I was developing musical ability without realizing it. Playing the Mima, a percussive instrument, trained my rhythmic sense. Being in the orchestra and learning flute helped me understand harmony—how each part contributes to a bigger whole. All of that informs my creative process now. The guitar, in particular, gave me a new vocabulary and allowed me to explore sounds beyond what I’d done before, especially once I dropped the ego of being "just a rapper."Your debut EP marks a big shift from wave and trap into a more acoustic, pop-R&B sound. What inspired that transition?It was my mindset and life experience. School wasn’t going well, and I was at a point in my career where it felt like “now or never.” That urgency stripped away the ego, and I felt free to sing about my feelings and be vulnerable. It was the only option that made sense at the time.Why focus on vulnerability, mental health, and modern romance in this project?It’s too relevant not to. Especially for my generation and those younger, there’s a lot of silent suffering and emotional weight people carry. I didn’t want to just talk about it—I wanted to embody it and hopefully set a standard through the music.Was it an aesthetic choice to keep the production minimal with just guitar and vocals?Exactly. It was intentional. I wanted something that was honest and vulnerable. Keeping it simple was a foundation for future projects. I didn’t want to jump straight into a polished, full production sound. This way, it’s more true to the moment and easier to replicate live.Does the simplicity also help with live performances?Definitely. I’m currently rehearsing and it’s nice to be able to recreate the whole song live, with just myself, the guitar, and the mic. It brings people into that vulnerable space with me.Can you take us through the creative process of making this EP? Who were you working with?Most of the songs I wrote at home, looping a guitar riff until I found a chorus or hook I liked. I’d post some of those on social media. When I had three or four solid ideas, I took them to my producer Alexis, who I’ve worked with for two years. We built out the songs from there—he helped with production, and I wrote verses on the spot. Two of the tracks were actually written years ago, but they stuck with me, and I knew they needed to be on this project.So it was mainly you working solo until you were ready to bring Alexis in?Exactly. I’d build the demos, and then we’d work together in the studio to polish them.Was Alexis also involved in your earlier tracks?Yeah, he worked on “Miss Me” and “Uptown,” the two acoustic tracks leading up to this EP. He did some production and also mixed and mastered them.Did you expect “Miss Me” and “Uptown” to take off the way they did? Why do you think they resonated so well with listeners?I kind of expected them to do better because there was real buzz online and anticipation. It wasn’t necessarily about adding to my audience—it was about finding the audience. These songs reached the right people and helped build the fanbase.You've received recognition from big platforms like Colors and Dazed. How does it feel to be recognized on that level?It means a lot. In the music industry, success is measured in so many subjective ways, but having people show love to your work—that’s the most rewarding part. I’m grateful for those features.I heard that a trip to Tenerife sparked something in you. Can you talk about what happened there?Honestly, that one’s a bit tough. I went with a friend, but neither of us were really in the position to go. I came back feeling like I should’ve been focused on the work. It wasn’t regret exactly, but it felt like misplaced energy. Can we skip that one?No problem at all. Let’s move on. You’ve grown a loyal fan base and you’re really savvy at sharing your creative process in real time. How do you stay connected with listeners and make sure your message is getting across?I pay attention to how people respond and take that into account. I post previews, and the ones that get good feedback often become releases. I also make vlogs, run a Discord channel, use Instagram broadcast channels—stuff like that. I even take beats from supporters and give feedback or record on them. I’m always trying to improve that connection.I’ve heard you’re rehearsing for shows in London, Paris, and Brussels. What can fans expect from the live show?It’s going to be fully acoustic—just me and the guitar. This is my way of introducing Bex to the world as a performer. It’s intimate and minimalist, focused purely on the music and the experience.Where will you be performing in the coming weeks? Will you be playing in London and Paris as well?I still need to confirm dates for London and Paris. I can’t share anything official yet, but I’ll post details on my socials. As for Brussels, I’ll be performing on Thursday, the 27th of March at V-Gas for a Black History Month event.Back to your music—you’ve gone from performing alongside big names to headlining your own shows. Has your approach changed? Do you feel like this is a coming-of-age moment or more a sign of maturing as an artist?It’s a mix of both. I was the definition of a delusional dreamer—I never took "no" for an answer and was fully convinced music would be my path. Now, I feel ready to learn and grow. I’ve always felt secure in my musical ability, but stepping into live performance has been a whole new challenge. It showed me that being good in the studio doesn’t guarantee you’ll give people a powerful live experience. There’s a big difference between recording a good song and truly moving people on stage.How old are you now, if you don’t mind me asking?I just turned 22 two weeks ago.Congrats! Sounds like you're right on track to realizing your dreams. And honestly, a little delusion can be healthy—sanity doesn’t always breed creativity.Facts. I appreciate that.Now that the acoustic EP is out, do you see yourself sticking with this sound, or are you planning to explore new directions? What’s next for Bex?Definitely expect some Afro sounds. My goal is to drop an Afro project for the summer. I’ll keep the acoustic vibe alive, especially for these upcoming performances, but by the end of the year, Beex won’t just be defined by the acoustic style. I’ll have branched out into other sounds too.

Interview by Joe Leonard-Walters | Edited by Passion DzengaSince its launch in 2021, Echobox has been turning the volume up on community radio, offering a platform where voices usually kept at the margins take centre stage. From sonic experiments to subcultural celebrations, Echobox is carving out space for radical expression—and few shows encapsulate that mission quite like The Queer Agenda.Now, you might be wondering—what exactly is The Queer Agenda? A manifesto? A mission? A myth? According to the trio behind it—Jackie, Micklin and Iona—it’s “just a bunch of hot lesbians” (Said Nobody, 2025). But dig a little deeper, and you'll find a cultural collective making serious moves in Amsterdam’s queer scene. From photographic calendars of queer venues to sweaty DIY club nights and full-on takeovers of iconic institutions like Paradiso, The Queer Agenda is creating space, visibility and plenty of mischief for queer women, trans and non-binary folks.In this interview, we caught up with the brilliant minds behind the mic to talk about the origins of the collective, the ethos of their Echobox radio show, and the queer anthems that soundtrack their lives. From carabiners with exes' keys to Kingsnight strip clubs, they've got a lot up their sleeves—and you're gonna want to tune in. You can catch up with this show now on Echobox Radio.What is The Queer Agenda? What do you have up your sleeves? ‘Just a bunch of hot lesbians’ (Said Nobody, 2025).The Queer Agenda is a collective that organises a range of cultural initiatives, focusing on events, photography, that increase the visibility of queer women, trans and non-binary people, and also create new spaces for this group.We are composed of three people: Jackie, Micklin and Iona, and collectively have backgrounds ranging from photography, styling and film production to social science, art direction and campsite entertainment (this list is not exhaustive). Up our sleeves we collectively have a carabiner with an ex’s housekey, too many rings, a 35mm film camera, a USB with multiple heartbreak playlists, nail clippers and a protein bar- if you must know. How did the collective come about?The Queer Agenda came about quite serendipitously. So, the OG founders are actually Micklin and Jackie, who together created a photo calendar of queer venues across the city with models from the community, to act as a guide for new queers in the city, and to document queer spaces and people. This calendar was called The Queer Agenda (queers in a calendar, you get it, right?). This project was a huge success, with the calendar soon after being seen everywhere, from the bar at Pamela, to the toilets at Footy and even your new situationship’s fridge. Just after the calendar had been launched, Iona started running a queer live music clubnight called SNEAKOUT. She wanted to create more variety in the queer nightlife sphere and have a night that wasn’t only centred around electronic music (…and also play there with her band so people would find her cool and interesting). After the success of the first three editions, SNEAKOUT got a slot at Paradiso (e.g. big boy full building Paradiso) the week after pride, which we called ‘Pride is Not Over’. This was the first collaboration in our current configuration, and we managed to pack our Paradiso with nearly 1000 queers. We thought that we must have been doing something right, so we decided to continue- and here we are!After that, we continued to run more projects together, and officially tied the knot last March after moving into an office together at TILLATEC (class U-haul), which is still the TQA HQ. How does the ethos of the collective extend into the show?We like to keep things fun and non-pretentious- in both our show and the work we do. I think conversations around queerness can often be quite heavy, and whilst these conversations absolutely have their place, I think we should seize any opportunity to laugh at ourselves, as well as making each other laugh, which we try our best to do during our show. The world is very quickly becoming a more difficult place for our community, so if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. We like to do both, but think we should, as much as we can- laugh. Do you have any queer anthems that connect to your show? What makes a queer anthem in 2025?I have three queer anthems that are really cornerstones of our show.I play this one a bit too often. It is a cheesy 90s heartbreak banger by the Outhere Brothers- about a man being in love with a lesbian, but it simply isn’t meant to be. Don’t cry brother, we’ve all fallen in love with straight girls too. A 160 club banger by local rap duo LIONSTORM- sounds sexy mixed into any 160 track- I mean ANY. Give it a listen, give it a mix and you’ll thank me later!This banger is part of a whole EP of Sapphic bangers called ‘Anthems for Lezzies’. This particular track contains sirens beckoning all lesbians to the dance floor. The plot thickens when they throw in samples from ‘The L word’ theme tune (if you don’t know what that is, do your homework). Overall, great stuff, 11/10.What have you got coming up that we should look out for?Our Queer Agenda (ha ha) is actually very full in April- so I have a lot to tell. The one I am most excited about is the XXXXL Queer Strip Club on Kingsnight- essentially we are opening a queer strip club for one night at TILLATEC because we wanted to make Kingsnight a bit more sauuuuucy. I know you’re intrigued- just come. We are also organising an opening event for the Josephine Baker exhibition at Verzetsmusem on the 16th of April, which will have an amazing panel and also the chance to see the exhibition + get some gratis welcome drink.There is lots more on our instagram, so check give us a follow on instagram at @thequeeragenda.ams Don’t let the name fool you. While it might conjure up images of sizzling pans and secret recipes, Garlic & Onions is less about the kitchen and more about taste—in all its forms. Named for two everyday ingredients Bella Hall can't live without, the show is a celebration of the music that nourishes us daily, just like a good meal.In this interview, Bella peels back the layers of her creative process, sharing how a deep dive into her own musical archive turned into a personal sonic diary. From memory-driven mixes to childhood nostalgia and genre-free journeys, she’s creating a carefully curated audio scrapbook—one emotionally resonant show at a time. Ready to cry, groove, and maybe get a little hungry? Let’s get into it.  You can catch up with this show now on Echobox Radio. What recipes have you been cooking up on Echobox? When I came up with the name for my show, I debated if I should incorporate the theme of food more literally. Still, I decided against it because I realised the main purpose of the name was to create a strong visual identity behind it (shoutout to Stan Hillen & Meryl Barthe for helping me) and not directly link it to the music. But so often, people think that food or cooking is the idea behind the show. Though I love cooking, really, the Garlic & Onions show name is inspired by the fact that I love garlic and onions, in all their forms, and eat them every day just like I listen to music every day. Having studied philosophy I often feel the need to make things deep and have lots of meaning. By naming my show after such everyday objects, I stepped away from that in a way I have really been enjoying. What made you want to start your show?Over the years, I have collected a decent amount of music, and so often, I found that they would just disappear in one of the many playlists I have on my USB or at the back of my record collection. So, to kind of counter that, I wanted to do a show that actually used my existing collection as inspiration. I also wanted every show to have a super specific theme that wasn't genre-related necessarily.  I find my creativity flows best when I put certain constraints on myself. By starting the Garlic & Onions show I made myself go back to my collection in such a fun and creative way. Sometimes, all it takes is for me to listen back to one song I used to listen to a long time ago to inspire a whole theme and then mix around it.  I have found that the stronger my theme, the better my mix is, which is also usually the case with all my mixes.  My ultimate goal with the show is to create a thematically organised mix archive of my own archive of music. You said that this month's show is a very personal one - What do you have planned?You will just have to tune in! No, but the mix is inspired by my first conscious memory of listening to music and the specific time and place I was in. The mix might actually contain one or two songs from back when I was a child, but mostly, it will be music I have collected over the years that are able to transport me back to that exact time and place. Genre wise it will be very much outside what I usually play, so it will be quite vulnerable as well. But I also think you can quite easily draw a red line between the music I grew up with and what I listen to now. What's you favourite track from your shows so far?Offff this is, of course very hard as my shows are based on and contain songs that have been with me for a long time. I think that my favourite mix so far would be the one I called "moodstep" I think the theme and the way the mix came together was super solid. However, my favourite track is probably the track that inspired my "Unstable" mix, aptly called Unstable by OCB. This is one of my all-time favourite songs ever, so it felt natural to make my first mix be inspired by this track. Tune in to Echobox - broadcasting from below sea level every week, Thursday until Sunday.

Words: Shawn Alexander AllenYou may be wondering, ‘but Shawn! There’s a list of - counts fingers - one, two … TEN great characters I can list! Miles Morales, Franklin from GTA, the NPCs in Horizon Zero Dawn, Travis Scott in Fortnite, and the Carlton dance and… and… I mean, I could go on!’ And you’re absolutely right. Those characters do exist. Some of them are good, great even. But here’s the thing: how many Black people were involved in bringing those characters to life? How many were in charge of those teams? And why does the “Killmonger” haircut have the games industry in a chokehold? The key answer to these questions, and more, is what I said, that Black representation in games is bullshit.First, let me introduce myself. I run an independent game development company that pushes culture forward in games. I’ve worked at Rockstar Games and Major League Baseball, and I’ve released all manner of games, from tiny story-based games to VR home run derbies and, of course, some of the biggest games in the world. The first game I shipped at Rockstar was GTA (ed. Grand Theft Auto, among the best-selling video games ever) IV, after all.  Now that that’s out of the way let me give you a brief history of how we got here. Most early games with Black characters in them were sports games, and that representation was all over the place, with characters ranging from pixelated abstractions of the visages of athletes and sports-adjacent celebrities to straight-up racist stereotypes. Sure, there was Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out!!! (where he was the bad guy?), but there was also Frank Bruno’s Boxing with a character called “Tribal Trouble” who looks like the worst stereotype. He even had a bone through his nose. Sometimes there’s a Black character who was “2P”, as in 2nd Player. Like in the Taito game Crime City, where the first character looks like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon (aka Martin Riggs), the Black “2P” character looked like… a random Black guy in a suit. While they got Gibson’s looks down pretty well, they couldn’t even bother infringing on Danny Glover’s likeness a little bit.For a while, the Black character was always the 2nd Player, and/or a sports player, and/or a celebrity. There was M.C. Kids, an official (and batshit insane) McDonalds game, where the Black kid on the cover is … the 2nd player. At least he’s on the cover? There’s a whole host of basketball games, and even Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff were in NBA Jam. And then there’s fighting games and the beat ‘em up sub-genre where Black folks were once again, the 2nd or 3rd tier character, usually with the white guy up front and center. In fact beyond white characters, the 2nd most prevalent beat ‘em up characters were the Ninja Turtles. Are the Ninja Turtles Black?For me, the first really great Black character in a game was Micheal Leroi from Shadowman on the N64 in 1999. He was a Blaxploitation character who had to travel to hell and kill a bunch of white serial killers to save the world, which I was completely on board with. A Black dude IRL at least voiced him. His co-star, “Agnetta” had the worst wannabe voodoo accent, and with the help of IMDB many, many years later, I found out she was a VERY white woman.  Fast-forward and Black characters have definitely gotten better. But not because the industry wanted them to. It took some very key people to move the culture forward and bring about the best Black characters, and it was only the independent games uprising of the 2010s that we really saw a change in WHO makes the games. This is even more egregious when you look at how games REALLY got their start. I found out, with much of the world in the 2000s that Jerry Lawson, a Black programmer and technological innovator, was key in advancing the tech that allowed the games industry to exist as it does today. He was part of the team that made the Fairchild Channel F, the first game console to use cartridges, which paved the way for everything since. He also founded his own company and developed some games, but he saw his company destroyed by the video game market crash in the ‘80s. It seems only fitting that a Black man who innovated in a mostly white industry would get lost in the shuffle because that is the story of the games industry and representation. The fact that the industry made billions on cartridges, and Jerry Lawson’s name only began popping up decades later, is basically the story of American business. (Look up Uncle Nearest) Why does this even matter, right? ‘They’re just games!’ They’re for recreation! Maybe you don’t even pay attention to your character's appearance in the games you play, which is obviously a lie, but you do you. These are popular refrains from folks who claim to be fans of games while being fine with the cultural stagnation of the medium. I’ve even seen supposed Black folks proudly beat their chest about how they are “gamers” and don’t care about representation on message boards and social media, often trying to refute a Black person asking, ‘Where the Black people at?’ I’m not sure who they are trying to gain brownie points with, but that ain’t it.  Games are a cultural art form like film, music, comics, animation, you name it. In fact, games, video games specifically, can encapsulate ALL other art forms, which is super special and should be celebrated. For me, as a Black kid who had aspirations as a musician, a comic artist, an animator, and a film director at one point in time, when push came to shove, video games, with their unique interactive elements was the one true artform that could satisfy what I wanted to do with my own art. That's what I do. I make cool art, as I am an artist and writer first and foremost, and I work with dope musicians, including some of the biggest and best indie Hip-Hop artists including Open Mike Eagle, Mega Ran and AIRCREDITS, to make my games even cooler. But beyond me, there’s a small but mighty contingent of independent Black game developers who are bringing the representation to games but not through tokenism or “forced diversity” (I mean, all fiction is “forced” to exist, ya dig?) but through sheer force of will in making their art. A few years back, a budding developer by the name of Derrick Fields reached out to me. They wanted to know the ins and outs of game dev. We had a great conversation, and now, Derrick has their own studio Waking Oni Studio, making games with a fusion of Japanese and Black art. The first release was the very fun Onsen Master across multiple platforms.  Very recently I met C.Bedford who is a relatively new face to games. They are an amazing illustrator with a poppin’ instagram and they took their talents to work with their partner on their first game, Sorry We’re Closed, a neon, queer reenvisioning of Silent Hill, and they worked with Okumura, an amazing rap duo with an energizing flow, to make their soundtrack pop. Someone who always seems like a fresh face, even if he’s been around for a minute, is Xalavier Nelson Jr. who is a powerhouse writer and design director (who got his start writing about games at the age of 12 by tricking websites into thinking he was an adult). Between himself and his label Strange Scaffold he’s put out a staggering number of games, with my favorite being El Paso, Elsewhere, a neo noir horror love story where you slow down time and blow away werewolves, vampire mummies and biblically accurate angels as the coolest low polygon Black protagonist this side of Shadow Man. It can be a bit daunting seeing the new talent coming through, because I often wish I had been able to make my own games decades ago. It’s weird to accept that I’m sort of an “elder” in the space, but I am comforted by knowing Justin Woodward, a fellow OG in the games industry, who I met about a decade ago at EVO, the world’s biggest fighting game tournament. He was demoing Super Comboman, an offbeat fighting platformer which had such an amazing art style. But Justin had a lot more going on. Beyond his company Interabang Entertainment, he has his other brands, including the MIX games, where he’s put out some dope retro inspired games including Jay and Silent Bob: Mall Brawl, and Rugrats. Speaking of the MIX, it’s also an event, serving as the premiere way to get indie games in front of the press, and has been for over a decade. The year after I met Justin he was running the indie space at EVO.I could go on and on, because even if we’re a small group, I know and love so many of the Black folks who are sticking around despite the difficulties of our industry. I’ve worked in the nonprofit mentorship/accelerator space for almost a decade now, and the success of Black folks means a lot to me.Something very telling is how several of these titles have this raw, visceral creativity behind them. I’d say directly, my game, Treachery In Beatdown City, as well as El Paso, Elsewhere, and Sorry We’re Closed have this unflinching “Blaxploitation” era style of eschewing the norms of the industry, taking existing genres and making them very Black, where we can fight power structures and win, just like in Blaxploitation films. One day I got a text from a few colleagues telling me that TreaAndrea Russworm, a professor at University of Southern California, was lecturing about Treachery in Beatdown City and its direct connections to Blaxploitation. I felt a very warm feeling that day.This representation, the full spectrum of Blackness on display through writing, directing, art direction, music composition, and more - is how you achieve real, transformation in the industry that has no way of just being turned off because we are here to stay. There was a time where we (the collective Black people in games) were being asked by those in the press, “Will video games have their Black Panther moment” reacting to the massive cultural success of the movie. The answer is complex, and requires a mapping of history. In short, Black Panther was a confluence of many different cultural forms coming together that simply wouldn’t exist without the Blaxploitation era of film. I wager video games are just now hitting their Blaxploitation era. But as we’ve seen with the history of games, they grow quick and fast as a culture, so maybe we’ll see it sooner than later.

Interview by Passion Dzenga | Photography by James Gallagher | Artworks by James LaceyToday we sit down with James Lacey, the creative force behind Pointless Illustrations and founder of Handy Records. Originally from Cardiff, Wales, and now based in Amsterdam, Lacey’s journey as an artist and music curator is marked by a spirit of collaboration and community. He’s got love for both visual art and music, blending the two worlds seamlessly while staying true to his raw, distinctive style.  From humble beginnings as a mechanic to becoming a celebrated illustrator, Lacey launched Pointless Illustrations and founded Handy—initially a skateboarding-themed apparel brand that later evolved into a dynamic music label. With the label about to drop its seventh release and the Natural Frequencies digital sublabel making waves, it’s time to get familiar with how Lacey’s passion for music and visual art drives his creative vision. Lacey’s got love for collaboration, working with like-minded artists to foster a tight-knit community rooted in personal connections and mutual respect. His creative journey also led to a standout contribution to our SS25 collection and as an Artist in Residence in Patta Magazine Volume One.Beyond the label and fashion projects, Lacey co-runs Lost Groove alongside Retromigration, an underground club night that will return Amsterdam’s Doka for a fresh series of events in 2025. With a focus on sound quality, community vibes, and music over profit, Lost Groove is a celebration of the underground scene. Whether it’s through the decks or the sketchpad, Lacey’s always pushing creative boundaries and making sure real connections stay at the heart of it all.  Get familiar with James Lacey as we dive into his creative process, his journey from Cardiff to Amsterdam via London, and how he balances art, music, and community in unexpected and inspiring ways.How have Cardiff, London, and Amsterdam influenced your personality and what you do?Growing up in Cardiff, it’s not as bustling as metropolitan places like London or Bristol. You develop a sense of community and a mindset of working with your friends to help grow their vision. That mentality stayed with me when I moved to London, which made me approach clients and parties in a way where I wanted to be involved, not just profit from it. In Cardiff and Wales in general, people tend to help each other out more because it’s a smaller scene.Were there any artists or movements in Cardiff that inspired you?I was inspired by local event posters—I used to rip them down off the wall and take them home with me. Ben Arfur, Alexander Sullivan, and Sam Jones were designing for Blue Honey, City Bass, and Rotary Club—local dance events I was a regular at. It inspired me to realize I could do it myself, as it was so accessible. Thankfully, after pestering Ben, he showed me some tips to get me going. Your journey started with a hands-on approach. Can you talk about what you used to do and how that led to founding Handy?I’ve always been hands-on, working in builders’ merchants and eventually becoming a mechanic. I worked for Range Rover and Jaguar, and I was pretty good at it. But after my best friend, who was also a mechanic, passed away, I just couldn’t stay in that world anymore. For escapism, I started drawing for fun as a way to cope and launched an Instagram page called Pointless Illustrations as these drawings I was making didn't mean anything, especially when I began. Eventually, I started Handy as a way to put my art on t-shirts and other skate gear.How did you make your first t-shirts?I was working at a screen printer to make ends meet, so I had access to the equipment. I designed everything in Adobe Illustrator and printed the shirts myself. I was selling them by hand at skate parks like LSP and Spit and Sawdust in Cardiff. It was all done by me—from designing, to printing and even selling.How did you start getting commissions from other people?I reached out to places in my community that I was already connected with. One of the first was Gwdihw, a small jazz bar in Cardiff, where my flyer journey began. I also approached Cardiff Skateboard Club, who started selling my Handy merch. That was a big deal for me—seeing my stuff alongside brands like Independent and Spitfire. I also worked with Freestyle Newport and did posters for club nights like Talk to Frank and Polymer in Swansea. I just wanted to support local places that mattered to me. Working with people who I came from my worlds made the most sense as we understood each other without being lost in translation.Why did you move to London, and how was that experience?My partner at the time lost her job as a fashion designer in Cardiff, and there weren’t many opportunities there, so she wanted to move to London. I saw it as an opportunity to grow and be around more creativity, even though I wasn’t making much money at the time. I just took the leap, worked hard, and eventually made it sustainable. Looking back, it still blows my mind that I managed to pull it off.How did music influence your journey?Music has always been a massive part of my life. Growing up, I was always in bands with friends, playing local gigs at places like TJ’s in Newport. I was an emo kid, always in the mosh pit if not down at the skatepark. Later, I joined a band called Astroid Boys, which was more like a nu-metal/rap crossover. My parents were big into funk and soul, and that shaped my taste too. Music gave me a sense of community and connection that I carried into my creative work. I really think their passion for that music early on resonated with me and lead to my appreciation for music also.Did Cardiff’s music scene influence you in any way?Cardiff had a incredibly strong live music scene when I was growing up. There were also local spots like Clwb Ifor Bach and Bar Fly that fostered a tight-knit music community. Sadly, a lot of those places are gone now, but they were crucial to my journey.What inspired Handy to transition from being a skate-focused brand to a music-centered project?After moving from Cardiff to London, I made a skate video that featured an original track from Earl Jeffers. Although I was still selling to skate shops, the skate community around me began to thin out, and my interests shifted more toward music. My record collection was growing and I was mixing more and more and I was finding myself around the music community more often. Managing a skate brand by myself became tough, whereas music felt more manageable with a small team. It just naturally progressed that way.How did the first music release on Handy come about and how did the first few releases with artists like Adam Curtain, Bobby Casanova, and Retromigration come about?Handy001 started as a passion project with a friend I was living with at the time. I had been doing artwork for labels and collecting records, so I thought of trying it myself. The idea was to keep releases close to friends or music I genuinely loved. It felt like a fun project to work on and see where it could go. Most of the collaborations were with people I already knew through working on artwork or being part of the community. I was doing artwork for Adam Curtain's label, Troublemaker, and we became friends. I loved Bobby Casanova’s track and just reached out to him directly. As for Retromigration, I was doing artwork for his breakthrough EP with another label (Healthy Scratch Records). We connected after I moved to Amsterdam, and it turned out we had similar vibes.What's the concept behind the "naughty and nice" sides of Handy Records releases?It’s about giving artists a platform to explore their full range. Many EPs tend to stick to one sound, but I felt artists often had more to offer. So, we have the “naughty” side for club-focused tracks and the “nice” side for something softer or more experimental. It’s about allowing producers to showcase different shades of their creativity.What led to the creation of the sub-imprint Natural Frequencies, and how does it differ from Handy Records?Handy mainly leans toward house music, but I wanted something more club-focused and accessible after lockdown, which was a time of heavy music saturation and pressing plant issues. Natural Frequencies is more digital and club-ready, not meant to be as precious as vinyl but more functional for DJs. It has an abstract art direction inspired by natural aesthetics. The music itself feels more electronic but with a visual style that evokes something organic and earthy.How do you choose the artists for Natural Frequencies?Natural Frequencies has a broader scope compared to Handy. The first release was from Boulderhead, whose sound felt like a natural extension of Handy's style. Retromigration’s EP showed a different, more electronic side of his production. Marma is a friend from Amsterdam, and Kyra Khladi caught my attention after I attended one of DJ sets and was very impressed. The focus is on pushing fresh, club-ready sounds while still staying true to my taste and community.How did the latest V/A project "Keep It in the Family Volume Two" come together?The first "Keep It in the Family" was a collaboration with Shall Not Fade, combining both labels’ artists. For the second one, I wanted to make it more purely Handy. It features label regulars like Earl Jeffers, Retromigration and Cem Mo, as well as new connections like Zoeplar and Monty DJ. It’s all about working with friends and keeping the community vibe strong because that’s what makes it feel safe and supportive in the music industry.Can you tell us about your passion for collaborating, particularly your recent contributions to Patta’s SS25 collection and your role as an artist in residence in Patta Magazine Volume One? How did these collaborations come about, and what was your creative process like?My first connection with Patta was through Lee Stuart, the former brand director, when I was living in London. In 2021, he messaged me on Christmas Eve, asking if I’d like to work on an upcoming collection themed around ska music. I created some graphics for it, but they didn’t make the final cut. Later, when I moved to the Netherlands, I got back in touch with Lee, and he was super supportive. He even helped me out with some trainers from the shop and introduced me to the right people, which really helped me get established in Amsterdam.After that initial collaboration, how did your relationship with Patta develop?After the ska collection didn’t come out, I became the artist-in-residence for Patta Magazine Volume One. That opened up more opportunities, like making posters for Patta x Nike collaborations and further partnerships with the Amsterdam based brand. Around the same time, Lee also involved me in an exhibition called "We All Need Rest" at OSCAM, where I presented two pieces focused on burnout and self-care. One piece was called "Burning the Candle at Both Ends" and the other was a depiction of self-care, with a bonsai tree and a watering can symbolizing nurturing oneself.How did it feel to be a part of that exhibition at OSCAM?It was an honor, especially as an expat in Amsterdam, where it's not easy to build connections. OSCAM is a community-driven space, and being able to showcase my work there was amazing. The exhibition wasn’t just about art on walls—it was an immersive experience, with live meditation sessions and a real sense of community.Your work has also made its way into fashion through your brand Handy and collaborations with Patta and other brands.How do you approach fashion projects differently compared to your illustrative work?I approach these projects differently because fashion is a physical medium. Seeing my artwork on clothes, windows, or even keyrings feels more tangible than digital art, which often just lives on a screen. I love working with big and small brands alike, as long as they believe in my vision. It’s about creating something lasting that people can wear and experience in real life.You mentioned feeling frustrated with the relationship between art and algorithms. Can you explain that a bit more?Art has become so tied to digital spaces that it feels like we’re creating just to feed algorithms. It’s exhausting and takes away from the essence of making something meaningful. I’m drawn to physical mediums because they feel more genuine. This year, I’m hoping to do more graffiti, painting, and workshops—just getting out there and creating real connections with people.How do you see fashion as a medium for art compared to digital spaces?Designing for print is rooted in authenticity because it’s tangible. You’re not just fighting for attention on a screen. Instead, people choose to wear your art and support you directly. I respect how PA does it—they turn their store into an art space, showcasing work on windows, clothes, and even inside the shop itself. It’s like stepping into a world that represents your art.You’ve also been involved in events like Lost Groove. Can you tell us about that project and what makes it special?Lost Groove is a club night I started, and it’s all about creating a space where people can come together, enjoy music, and just vibe. It’s a reflection of my love for music and community. I’m really excited to bring it back in 2025 and keep building that atmosphere where people can feel at home and just be themselves. Lost Groove actually began as a collective of four people, including myself and Retromigration. It wasn’t about making money—we just wanted a platform to share the music Retromigration makes and Handy releases, and to invite friends to play. We still don’t take money from it; we just reinvest in the party when we can afford it. We split from the original collective and carried on with the name, sticking to our vision of honest parties with good music, good people, and good vibes. What can we expect from the next Lost Groove event?The next one is going to be really special—probably as big as our legendary New Year’s party. This time, we’re collaborating with Suckerpunch Records, run by Papa Nugs, who’s killing it right now with his fun, party-centric sound. We’re also bringing in A for Alpha from Bristol, who’s not only an incredible DJ but also a passionate vinyl digger who never gatekeeps music. She’s someone who truly loves and respects the scene, and I couldn’t be more excited to have her on board. It’s happening on King’s Night, April 25th, at Doka—a venue known for its iconic 4-point sound system.  You mentioned earlier that Lost Groove isn’t about making money. How do you balance passion with financial sustainability?It’s tough, but we stick to our principles. We’re not in it to make a profit; we’re in it to build community and celebrate the music we love. If I walk out of a night and haven’t made money but had a good time, that’s fine by me. It’s about creating a space for people to enjoy music without the pressure of commercial gain.  Its important to me to have a space which champions sharing music. I think gatekeeping is selfish. If someone comes up to me asking for a track, I’ll take their phone and snap a pic of the track title. It’s not my music to hoard—it belongs to the artists who made it. Sharing track names could even help get those artists paid someday. Gatekeeping stops the wheel from turning and keeps music from being appreciated and enjoyed by a wider audience.  You’re a multidisciplinary creative—art, music, and more. How do you see these different creative expressions connecting, if at all?  To me, art dresses music, but they’re separate. There’s a blurred line between them, and it really depends on how much the creator values the visual aspect of their work. I think visual language is crucial, whether it’s music, food, or anything else. It gives identity and context, but not everyone sees it that way.  Looking back, what advice would you give your younger self, skateboarding at 17 and dreaming big?Chill out. Seriously, nothing is as deep as you think it is. Keep your head down, stay true to yourself, and don’t worry about what other people say. Everyone deserves a space at the table—it’s just about finding yours. Don’t chase trends or other people’s approval. Focus on what you love, and the right people will find you.  Finally, is there anything exciting coming up that you’d like to share? Definitely. I’m working on a collaboration with Wax Poetics called the Collector’s Edition, which is about creating collectible items—not just editorial pieces but physical, tangible things. I’m really excited because it’s something I’ve never done before. It’s a new challenge, and I think people are going to love it.It’s clear that James Lacey is driven by more than just creative ambition—he’s fueled by a love for community and genuine connection. Whether he’s screen-printing t-shirts, spinning records at Lost Groove, or crafting album art that tells a story, Lacey’s work is grounded in passion and purpose. His journey from Cardiff to Amsterdam isn’t just about getting caught up in the rat race—it’s about people, friendships, and staying true to what matters. Lacey’s story is a reminder that creativity isn’t just about making things—it’s about making spaces for people to come together and share what they love. Whether through music, art, or the simple act of putting on a great party, he’s all about fostering a sense of belonging. So next time you’re at a Lost Groove night or rocking a Handy tee, know that there’s more to it than meets the eye—it’s built on heart, hustle, and a whole lot of love. 

Unknown T has officially dropped Time Flies—the track that’s had the streets buzzing since last year. Fans have been eagerly awaiting this moment, as the song was making waves long before its official release. The wait is finally over, thanks to Janet Jackson clearing the iconic sample that took the track to another level.  2025 is proving to be another landmark year for UK rap, with artists like Unknown T continuing to push boundaries and gain recognition on a global scale. As the genre keeps evolving and thriving, it’s clear that UK rap’s influence is only getting stronger. Time Flies is just the latest example of how the scene keeps leveling up, and we are here for every second of it.

When PARDON returns to Paradiso, it brings with it the unmistakable pulse of big-room energy that has become its signature. This time, the lineup is nothing short of monumental. At the forefront stands UK rap royalty Novelist, a titan of the grime scene whose journey through sound has seen him evolve from a breakout star to a genre-defying innovator. It’s been over a decade since he burst onto the scene with the Mumdance-produced classic Take Time on Rinse, followed by his explosive partnership with XL Recordings. Now, as he steps into self-production, he fuses the influences of G-Funk, Grime, Soul, and Techno, proving once again why he’s one of Lewisham’s most versatile and visionary talents. On March 28th, when he steps up to the mic at Paradiso’s grand main room, expect nothing less than pure fire. Joining him is none other than Pangaea, a founding figure of Hessle Audio and a relentless force behind the decks. His sets are an odyssey through UK dance music culture, stitched together with the precision and flair that only a true pioneer can deliver. When Pangaea commanded the Parallel stage during PARDON’s first post-lockdown event in 2022, he left the room spellbound—a sonic sermon that lingered long after the music stopped. Now, he’s back to unleash another round of his rhythmic sorcery, drawing on decades of low-end ingenuity. And then there’s AliA—Belgium’s finest connector of sounds and scenes. A regular at the revered Horst festival, she has honed a mixing craft that seamlessly links genres, pushing the boundaries of club music with fearless passion. Her presence is a vital thread in PARDON’s tapestry, bridging the raw and the refined with a sound that’s distinctly her own.Rounding out the main room lineup are PARDON’s trusted selectors, EYCEE and Insulinde—torchbearers of the signature PARDON energy, whose sets are known for leaving no soul unmoved. Down in the BASSment, Rinse FM’s Reek0 and FELIXCW arrive hot off the back of their Dancers Road EP, ready to unleash their trademark bass-heavy blend. They’re joined by Pelanoir, a selector with a taste for the unexpected, while Amsterdam’s own styn teams up with percussive prodigy T.NO for a b2b session that promises groove and grit in equal measure. Closing the night is Mallaury, whose bold, bass-driven selections will push the crowd to its limit, while Jan Koster and STIPP deliver their raw, high-octane energy. Expect nothing less than sweat-soaked ceilings, relentless rhythms, and a night where the passion never lets up. PARDON at Paradiso—it’s about to go off.Tickets available now

Interview by Joe Leonard-Walters | Edited by Passion Dzenga Launching in 2021, Echobox has been forging a path for community radio by showcasing the diverse characters and concepts that surround them. In this feature, we will be looking into a few of the broadcasts that you can tune into so get locked in and don’t touch that dial. Today, we're diving into the world of experimental electronics with Oneven, the creator and host of PITCH SHIFT on Echobox. Known for its spontaneous and raw approach to live electronic music, PITCH SHIFT has become a staple for boundary-pushing sounds and thought-provoking conversations in Amsterdam’s electronic scene.   Oneven’s show is about community, collaboration and celebrating artistry over clout. Since its inception, the show has showcased both local and international artists, offering a platform where creative minds break down their sounds, setups, and stories. Whether it’s DJ Beukeboom’s live Baile Funk set or Stefhanja’s seismic-inspired soundscapes, Oneven’s open format invites the unexpected.   It’s not just about genres or trends - it’s about diving into the essence of sound and discovering what drives each artist to create. From exploring groundbreaking music gear to hosting icons like Chase Bliss, Oneven’s unprepared, organic style has made PITCH SHIFT a space where authenticity reigns.   We’ll be talking to Oneven about his love for music tech, why live electronic performances deserve more attention in Amsterdam, and his dream guests, from Aphex Twin to Madlib. Plus, we’ll touch on his views of the city’s evolving music scene and why he believes in staying rebellious and raw. Let’s shift some pitches and get into it! You can catch up with this show now on Echobox Radio. Your show has turned into a real touch-point for experimental electronics in Amsterdam. Why was it important to do something so collaborative?I think the show has a healthy mixture of experimental and more traditional electronic music. My first ever guest was DJ Beukeboom who did a live Baile Funk show, but yeah we do also occasionally dive into the more abstract areas of electronic music. It depends on the artist I invite. I never think of genres when finding guests, but rather about what motivates someone to pursue a certain sound, is the sound representative of their background, etcetera. This is important to me as it helps me filter out artists in it for clout vs. Artistry. Anyhow, in terms of collaboration it depends on the guest, some shows go down like that, others don’t. The behind Pitch Shift is simple: an artist comes over, plays some tracks and we talk about how they made it and how they translate their ideas from a studio setting into a live show. But since the show is called Pitch Shift it occasionally goes in a completely different direction. Sort of like when you pitch shift a sample: you have the source material, but what you do with it can change the outcome completely. This also means I never prepare for any of my shows. This works best for me cause it allows the interviewing part to be spontaneous and authentic. I could write down some fictional backstory about why I do this, but honestly it just happened organically. I love it because when the pressure is on your brain starts coming up with some nice questions on the spot. As to the importance of the show: It was and is still important to me to shine a light on artists that perform live. Amsterdam is flooded with DJ’s which is cool, but there are not enough opportunities for live electronic music. To my knowledge bookers are a bit afraid about someone turning up with a whole studio worth of equipment, but really it can be done with just one or two pieces of gear. All in all I just wanted to be selfless and give something back to the community. In my own past experiences I noticed a lot of shows were done to promote the host, that was my inspiration to do things differently. You also talk a lot about technology in music, where did the obsession with music gear start?Growing up in the 90’s there was a lot good electronic music being shared on a commercial level on the TV so it was fairly easy to get exposed to the works of, for example, Aphex Twin. Also video games had a ton of great soundtracks that peaked my interest in the tech. I was always opening up electronics and fucking around with circuits trying to make sense of all those alien components. It’s just so happened I’m naturally attracted to technology that is also used to make electronic instruments. Perhaps I would have been into trains or planes if I hadn’t been exposed to electronic music. That said, I’m still quite into watching videos on how a cockpit works. I like gear a lot, but these days it’s a more a novelty. Like yes a 5K euro 8 voice poly synth sounds good, but there are 15 year old kids out there making absolute bangers on a shitty old laptop. Ultimately it’s all about being able to create and express yourself with as little latency between your idea and output so whatever works best is what you should go for. I am now mostly using a laptop with Ableton and Max/MSP to produce and in the mixing stage run things through hardware. Computers are so powerful and you can basically do anything you want once you become proficient with the software. In my opinion it is a far more exciting place to be than in a studio with tons of analog subtractive synths. Also not being dependant on a physical space is amazing for your creativity. All you need for electronic music these days is to be interested in learning, some software and a pair of decent headphones. Only thing that sucks about computers is that they are built to become obsolete, near impossible to repair as a consumer and some software becomes outdated. What have been particular highlights of your show?My recent ones with Tyler and Liz from Chase Bliss and the one with Stefhanja are my current faves. Chase Bliss was personally amazing to me cause I love the pedals they make. They are really pushing the limits of what you can do with guitar pedals so I was very happy to learn they have a European office in Amsterdam and that they were down to come to the studio and talk. My show with Stefhanja was really fun to do too. She has a device called the Geofón which is made by LOM Audio. It’s like a microphone, but made to detect seismic activity. We ran the signal through a bunch of equipment and made some beautiful soundscapes and textures. It was pure expression and it turned out so nice. We both had no preparation so it could have gone horribly wrong, but in the end I think our honest enjoyment is what kept it going in a good direction. Dream guest?Oh there are multiple ones. Autechre, Aphex Twin and BoC are obvious ones, right? Would be a very autistic show in the best way possible. But also would love to have Madlib or The Alchemist on. I listen to their music more than electronic music(it is technically also electronic though) to be honest. It’s so raw, organic and inspiring to me. Big fan of the Freddie Gibbs records they both did. Actually I know The Alchemist is a fan of Patta and visits Amsterdam often so maybe someone should make this happen. Live beat making on the Echobox airwaves… lets fucking go. Also dead ones would be Florian Schneider of Kraftwerk. Kraftwerk’s influence on music is unparalleled. Computer World laid the foundation for most of the stuff you hear now. What's most exciting to you in the Amsterdam music scene right now?I’m a bit of a hermit and this is probably not the answer people want to read but honestly, compared to The Hague and Rotterdam I think in general Amsterdam is lacking rawness and rebelliousness in the electronic scene so there’s not much for me personally to get excited about.I’m generalising of course as places like Bar San Francisco and events such as Weather Report at Bar Theo are great and resonate with me on a personal level. In the end I think that’s what counts, having a few places that you like to visit. Weather Report always surprises me as I go in blind. To me It’s not even about liking all the music, but seeing people use music as a tool to express themselves will always get me excited.I don’t have much interest in most clubs as they feel too image driven. Would much rather see someone unknown play amazing and unexpected shit they love than another Instagram famous DJ play whatever is trending if you know what I mean. I think Amsterdam clubs have a lot of potential, but we need to remember what made electronic music special in the first place: fuck playing it safe and fuck status. Be rebellious and treat every event like it’s your first and last and don’t worry too much about opinions. Next up we’re diving into the world of Het Kan Wel with Sara Liz and Wies, hosts of the most eclectic and spontaneous breakfast radio show on Echobox. It’s a potpourri of music, conversations, and unfiltered thoughts - where everything is possible. The name itself, Het Kan Wel (It Is Possible), was born from a wild King’s Day party in a bathtub, a playful declaration that nothing is truly impossible - though some things are better left undone (like moving to Mars). Sara Liz and Wies are the kind of duo who embrace the unexpected, bouncing from obscure beats and electronic sounds to slow and soulful vibes all before lunch. Their musical tastes may clash at times - Sara Liz loves starting the day with high-energy beats, while Wies prefers a more gradual wake-up - but that’s exactly what makes their dynamic work. Over the years, their friendship and music tastes have intertwined, creating a show that’s as unpredictable as it is refreshing. Inspired by the casual and humorous format of Charlie Bones’ Do!! You!! radio show, Het Kan Wel feels like an open invitation to just exist, be playful, and let whatever happens, happen. From bird sounds to bold musical statements, the duo’s chemistry keeps listeners guessing and makes space for serendipitous moments. We're gonna take a turn with this week's edition, switching to Dutch so we can  properly champion Het Kan Wel (if you want to get familiar but are not a Dutch speaker feel free to ask your favourite search engine to translate the following chapter). You can catch up with their show now on Echobox Radio.Wat is het verhaal achter de naam van jullie show, Het Kan Wel? W: Het verhaal is ontstaan op een vrij liederlijke en uitzinnige nacht na koningsdag, in een badkuip tijdens een diepte interview in het huis waar wij destijds samen woonden. Tijdens het interview kwamen we allen tot het inzicht dat vrijwel niets niet onmogelijk is.Verder (en nuchter) daarover nadenkend kom je er achter dat alles wel kán, maar je sommige dingen beter kan laten. Zoals bijvoorbeeld naar Mars reizen.  SL: “Wies en ik woonden lang samen, acht jaar in een huis in de Vogelbuurt, ook met Veer en Daaf en Boontje, het hondje. We grepen momenten voor een feestje vaak met velen handen aan. Op een van deze feestjes op Koningsdag dus,  begon een vriendin ons te interviewen in bad en wij vertelden dat we een band waren begonnen (lees; dit is dus fictief, wij hadden verzonnen dat we een band waren). Er werd doorgevraagd en wij gaven een heel interview over onze hit “Het Kan Wel”. De tekst van het liedje was niet bijster intelligent, mede door het tijdstip en alles. Maar wij vonden onze ‘hit’ bij het huis passen en zo is ons huis steeds meer Het Kan Wel gaan heten. Het Kan Wel is een mooie zin om in verschillende gemoedstoestanden te zeggen: overmatig enthousiast, verdrietig, schuldbewust of teleurgesteld. Als je de klemtoon van de zin verandert, krijgt het ook een andere betekenis. Of als je een liedje opzet dat niet ‘in tune’ is met het vorige (het wordt voor mij snel erg zalvig), dan zeg ik vaak tegen Wies: ‘Het kan ook weer wel’.” Tijdens de pandemie waren het vrienden in Antwerpen die een online radioshow begonnen genaamd Tijden van Nood. Alle makers konden vanuit hun woonkamer inpluggen en via muziek op de hoogte blijven van elkaar. Toen is de show officieel zo begonnen te heten.  Is er een andere ontbijt-radioshow die jullie qua format heeft geïnspireerd? W: Natuurlijk Charlie Bones met de Do!! You!! radioshow. Toch wel een soort grondlegger van de ongedwongen radioshow, met veel humor, een breed scala aan muziek en lekker erdoor heen praten.  SL: “Ik heb veel naar Do!! You!! van Charley Bones geluisterd en ik denk dat ik wel elke maand een vogel laat horen, dus ook; “Vroege Vogels.” Hebben jullie een favoriete show tot nu toe? SL: “Moeilijke vraag, want er is zoveel niche en zoveel talent! Donnies Dreamshow, 1.06SS was een poosje na ons, ook echt heerlijk. Joy die nu na ons is, Friday is a Sunday, Recovery Chanel, BSS, Loma Doom… te veel om op te noemen.” W: Vind het ook moeilijk om te zeggen, het is zo leuk om te zien hoe iedereen in die opnamestudio zijn eigen wereld creëert. Het is heel grappig, want je wisselt elkaar natuurlijk af aan het einde van de show, maar dan treedt de volgende persoon altijd echt even jouw wereld binnen of jij in de wereld van de DJ voor je. Ik vind dat zo mooi om te zien, en horen. Maar als ik het moet zeggen: Friday is a sunday, recovery channel, BSS, Joygail.   Hoe vind je het presenteren als duo tot nu toe? Waar zijn jullie het nou echt over oneens? W: Voor we bij echobox begonnen, maakte we tijdens Corona al een show op Tijden van Nood. Een soort piratenzender opgezet door vrienden zodat we allemaal een beetje in contact konden blijven met elkaar. Dat was heel leuk, maar tussen mij en Sara Liz ging dat niet echt zonder slag of stoot haha. We maakte echt live ruzie op de radio soms, wat ook wel heel grappig is achteraf.  We hebben gewoon een vrij uiteenlopende muzieksmaak die soms een beetje botst op sommige punten. Sara Liz is soms vrijwillig bereid om keihard te knallen om 11 uur ‘smorgens, waar ik persoonlijk ook nog even wakker moet worden. Dat kan wel eens in het verkeerde oorgat schieten. Maar Sara Liz vind dat ik soms te sloom draai, wat ik echt complete nonsens vindt.  Ik vind het wel leuk om te merken dat hoe langer we bevriend zijn onze smaken naar elkaar toegroeien, en we tegenwoordig echt vaak dezelfde dingen heel vet vinden. SL: “Wij zijn er rijkelijk vaak oneens geweest over muziek. Beiden komen we uit een andere muzikale interesse en huishouden. Bij mij stond thuis altijd muziek aan van Kink Radio (techno-uurtjes op zaterdag), Moloko, veel elektronische muziek, beats, Burial, Prince en ik maakte bandjes van Afrikaanse obscure radio. In mijn wereld kan dit allemaal door elkaar heen en naast elkaar. Veel bewegen op muziek, het kan me echt even omsluiten, ahh ik hou zo van beats! Wies weet ook veel van muziek, maar kent meer instrumentale bandjes. Dus als ik plots de boel opschud… krijg ik wel een diepe zucht of scheve blik. Maar het laatste jaar heb ik wel steeds meer het gevoel dat we naar elkaar groeien of elkaars input kunnen waarderen.  Bij wat denken jullie nou: “Het kan niet”? Oorlog, Trump, Elon Musk, de anti-abortus beweging, te harde techno om 11 uur smorgens (lul niet Wies!), te veel witte mannen in 1 ruimte, eten met weinig vet en zout, naar mars gaan, de verkoop van sociale huurwoningen, fabel friet, grote Ego’s, dat alles een restaurant moet worden, veel vlees eten, niet nederig zijn, geen humor hebben laat staan zelfspot en enkelsokken bij mannen bij -3, niet zingen op de fiets en niet lachen om een scheet. Tune in to Echobox - broadcasting from below sea level every week, Thursday until Sunday.

Interview by Passion Dzenga | Photography by Kala CitéFor filmmaker, photographer, and multidisciplinary artist Thaniel Owusu Agyemang, creativity is about more than just expression - it’s about connection. With Home: Where It All Begins, his first official film release, he takes audiences on a deeply personal journey back to Ghana, exploring themes of heritage, identity, and belonging.Thaniel’s work spans filmmaking, DJing, and photography, allowing him to move fluidly between disciplines while staying rooted in community. He’s got love for all - collaborating with artists and using  the platform Sankofa Archives to create spaces where stories of the African diaspora can thrive.As he gears up for his film screening and the Onyx Vision exhibition at OSCAM, Thaniel invites people to get familiar with his vision - one that’s about archiving, storytelling, and reclaiming narratives through art.    How did you first get into film, and what does it mean to you?Film is a powerful medium of expression. My love for it started in childhood when I watched Nollywood and Ghanaian movies with my parents. I’d always try to predict what would happen next and even create my own plots in my head. Later, as I got into photography, I wanted to bring my photos to life, and film became a way to add new dimensions to my storytelling. You work across multiple disciplines - filmmaking, DJing, photography, and directing. How do these different roles influence each other?Being multidisciplinary allows me to collaborate with a variety of artists and communities. For example, alongside my film event, I’m part of an exhibition, Onyx Vision at OSCAM, featuring artists Lenny Pharrell and Hamilton Chango Harris. Engaging in different mediums broadens my connections, keeps me inspired, and lets me create in different ways.With an exhibition and a film screening happening in the same week, how do you see this film shaping the conversation around your work?This is actually my first official film release. I’ve done short projects before, but nothing on this scale. It marks an important step in my journey, blending all the creative elements I’ve worked with into one larger vision.What inspired the title Home: Where It All Begins?The title reflects my journey of returning to Ghana for the first time. It represents the idea that my journey truly begins now that I have reconnected with my homeland. I want people to feel the importance of returning to their roots, learning from the past, and building for the future. This idea is also tied to the philosophy of Sankofa, which means "return, bring it back"What was the main motivation behind your trip to Ghana?I had always wanted to go back to Ghana, but financial constraints made it difficult. My mother, who has many children, often went alone. When I finally had the opportunity, I decided it was the right time. I wanted my mother to be with me for my first visit, so I paid for her ticket. Later, my friend Ian Bodo, a director of photography, joined me. We started filming spontaneously without planning to make a movie—it just happened organically.Why did you choose to release the film on the same week as Ghana’s Independence Day?It felt symbolic. Ghana’s Independence Day represents freedom and reclaiming identity, which aligns with the film’s theme of reconnecting with one’s roots.What were your expectations before visiting Ghana?My expectations were shaped by stories from my mother and friends, but experiencing it firsthand was completely different. People had always asked if I had ever been to my homeland, and I hadn’t. When I finally went, I realized that stories can only tell so much—you have to feel it yourself.What was the most powerful moment for you during the trip?Seeing an entire space filled with only Black people for the first time in my life. In Europe, I had never experienced that before. It was a profound moment of reflection and belonging. The warmth I felt from the moment I arrived at the airport was overwhelming.How did meeting your family in Ghana impact you?It was deeply emotional. I met many family members for the first time, including my grandmother, whom I hadn’t seen in 15 years. I had talked to my relatives over video calls, but meeting them in person was completely different. You can’t fully understand someone’s presence through a screen—it’s something you have to experience.What was the biggest lesson you learned from your trip?I realized that in Africa, people don’t overthink problems like we do in the West. In Europe, we tend to pile problems on top of problems, but in Ghana, people just go with the flow. They accept that some things are beyond their control and trust in God. This mindset shift was one of the most powerful takeaways for me.What can audiences expect to see in the film?The film captures raw moments of reflection, like me standing in Independence Square in the rain, simply taking in the view. It’s about embracing stillness, something that’s rare in the fast-paced Western world. In Ghana, I felt like I could truly reset and breathe. That’s what I want audiences to experience through the film.How did your trip to Ghana change your sense of identity and connection to your roots?I wouldn’t say I feel more Ghanaian because I already felt Ghanaian. But I do feel more connected to the core—to my great-grandparents, to the land they walked on, and to my ancestors. That deeper connection is what changed for me.Do you see this film as the beginning of a larger project, or is it a standalone adventure?Initially, it was just an adventure I wanted to share with family and friends. I held a small private screening at the Black Activation Month in Amsterdam curated by Bamba Al Mansour, but after that, many people told me it could grow into something bigger—maybe a series or even an exhibition. Right now, I’m still weighing my options, but the message is powerful, and it has the potential to expand in different ways.How does your film differ from other narratives about African heritage and the diaspora?Many African films, like Touki Bouki from 1973, focus on people leaving Africa for Europe. That’s also the story of my parents, so I understand why those narratives exist. But I wanted to do something different—something about going back home and centralizing African countries in the story. The new generation needs to archive our heritage and encourage future generations to return, rather than always seeing Africa as a place to leave.Why is it important to tell stories about returning to Africa, rather than just leaving?Migration stories usually highlight Africans moving to Europe or America, reinforcing the idea that success is found elsewhere. But we also need stories about Afro-Europeans and people in the diaspora going back to Africa - reconnecting with the land, culture, and history. It’s about shifting the narrative and showing that home has value, too.What made this trip particularly special for you?Going with my mother was important because she’s from Ghana, and I wanted to experience it with her first. Then, having my friend join later allowed me to experience Ghana both as a son and as a young man in my early 20s, navigating my own journey. That mix of perspectives made it even more meaningful.Can you tell us about your collaboration with Sankofa Archives and Free the Art? How did it all come together?As the founder of Sankofa Archives, my events always align with building out the archive. My connection with Free the Art happened organically - I’ve known Tim and Berano from Free The Art for a long time. We always talked about supporting each other's projects, and when I did a small, private film screening last October, I wanted to do something bigger. I reached out to Berano about hosting a screening at the Eye Film Museum and expanding it into a full experience. He was on board, and from there, everything came together.Why did you choose the Eye Film Museum as the venue?Growing up, I visited the Eye Film Museum during school trips, and it always inspired me. School wasn’t as creative as I wanted, so these visits felt like an artistic escape. Over time, I kept the idea in my mind that one day, I would screen my film there. Now, it feels like I’m fulfilling a childhood dream.How does the film connect with the exhibition?The exhibition, Onyx Vision by Free The Art, features my photo series Home, which includes pieces made in Ghana. It connects with the film because it visually expresses moments from the film through photography. I took all the pictures myself and some of the pictures from the series also appear in the film. The film is called Home: Where It All Begins, and the photo series is also titled Home. Both capture different aspects of Ghana - the city, the beach, and the people. You often collaborate with Lenny Pharrel. What is it like standing next to your friends in creative spaces?It’s a beautiful moment because we’ve been friends for a long time, and in the beginning, we were both figuring out our paths. Seeing everything come together now feels like a full-circle moment. Exhibiting together in my own neighborhood, Amsterdam Southeast, at OSCAM, alongside Lenny, is really special. We are part of a community - Sankofa Archives - that aligns so well with what we do, so being able to share this moment is incredible.Being able to grow and experience it with friends is a blessing. Creating isn’t just about putting work out into the world - it’s about the act of creating itself. And when you do that alongside your friends, it makes the process even more meaningful. It becomes more of a family affair rather than just work.We've seen Sankofa Archives do their own thing, partner with Patta and provide creative opportunities for people already. What’s next for Sankofa Archives? Sankofa Archives is more of a community platform than a collective. The next goal is to collaborate more while making it clear that it's not just about the people running it - it’s for anyone who has ideas but finds the barriers too high. We want to create opportunities for young and emerging artists.For example, with the Sankofa Archives community, we created an exhibition alongside our film screening to showcase diaspora talent in the Netherlands. Artists like Rarri Jackson, Nora Sofie and Gabriela Akyea, who are incredibly talented but may not always get the platform, are being featured. Our goal is to provide these opportunities through exhibitions, community events, screenings and more.It sounds like you're building something bigger than just an art platform. What’s your long-term vision?Yes, we want to establish a space - both physical and digital - where we archive art, music, film, and culture. We want to document not just the past but also the present, creating an archive for future generations. The next step is expanding our reach, bringing in more people, and forming new connections.If you could take this film and your work anywhere in the world, where would it be?I’m actually traveling to Senegal in March—not for work, but to explore Africa, gather inspiration, and exchange stories. I see a new wave of Afro-European artists reconnecting with their roots, and I want to be part of that. Learning more about where I come from is a big part of my creative journey. My work and my philosophy are deeply rooted in African ways of thinking, and I want to continue developing that perspective.On March 5, the second edition of MovieZone’s: KinoTalk will take place at Eye Filmmuseum, presented by Sankofa Archives and Free The Art. This special edition is led by Thaniel Owusu Agyemang and will feature his film Home: Where It All Begins, a personal account of his journey to Ghana—a deeply meaningful experience that allowed him to explore his identity, connect with his ancestral homeland, and embrace the Sankofa philosophy. Following the film, a panel discussion will take place with Thaniel and other artists, delving into themes of identity, heritage, and cultural connection. To conclude the night, Eye Bar & Restaurant will host a celebratory gathering with drinks and music inspired by the film’s themes. Doors open at 7:15 PM. Admission is free, but registration is required via this RSVP link.

Photography by Kristin Lee Moolman | Words by Candy Reding Baloji is a Congolese-born director, art director, and musician who defies labels and transcends boundaries in music, film, and fashion. His layered journey—from receiving an order to leave Belgium to representing the country at the Oscars with his Cannes-winning debut feature—offers powerful lessons on resilience, identity, and the transformative power of art.For Baloji, identity has always been a dual-edged sword, both a question to navigate and a declaration to uphold. His name, translating to “man of science” in Swahili, originally held a sense of pride and purpose. Yet under colonial Christian evangelism, the name morphed into something far darker, twisted into meaning “sorcerer” or “man of occult sciences.” In a world deeply rooted in spiritual traditions and Christian beliefs, his name became a stigma, a provocation, and a challenge. “It’s like calling yourself the devil or a demon in Europe,” he explains. Growing up as a young boy in Belgium, the misunderstanding of his name led to a sense of displacement and alienation. It made people uneasy, forcing him inwards to find ease. “It wasn’t about embodying silence; it was about breaking it,” he reflects, offering a glimpse into the resilience that has since become his signature.Baloji’s path as an artist has been defined by his refusal to accept the limits placed on him. A self-taught creator who built his craft through exploration and persistence, he shaped his artistic identity within the resourceful and rebellious culture of 90s hip-hop. “Hip-hop is the real DIY,” he says, recalling how it taught him creativity and self-reliance. “You’re making your own flyers, photos, fanzines. My specialization was rap, but that naturally evolved into graffiti, graphic design, and architecture. Dance taught me about the movement of damaged Black bodies. DJing and sampling opened my ears to the music of other cultures; Caribbean, Latin American, and even my Congolese heritage.” This constant expansion of his creative field allowed him to embrace his roots while beating the expectations often placed upon them.Baloji’s journey as an artist began with a leap into the unknown when he joined the Belgian hip-hop group Starflam in 1998. It was a transformative moment, “Starflam taught me about life,” he reflects because “I was an undocumented, illegal teenager. I had an order to leave the country and was far from my family.” This disconnection from the familiar, paired with the hardships of his undocumented status, could have stifled his potential. Instead, it fueled his artistry. Through Starflam, Baloji learned to channel his inner world, turning his emotions, struggles, and dreams into powerful lyrical narratives. The collective gave him the tools to survive and thrive, crafting an identity rooted in self-expression and rebellion against societal constraints. This period laid the groundwork for his multifaceted career.While Baloji’s creative independence is unmistakable, collaborators and mentors who believed in his vision have also shaped his journey. Among them was the late Virgil Abloh, whose innovative spirit left a lasting impression. “I learned so much from Virgil”, Baloji shares. “He could move from one project to another without losing focus and was always open to other designers. He supported the Augure film project because it aligned with his mission to uplift Black women and, by extension, Black-owned businesses.” Abloh’s spirit of collaboration and cultural pride resonates deeply with Baloji. His excursion into fashion marks yet another exciting chapter: "I'm working a lot on the fashion and art direction aspect at the moment because I've gained confidence in my skills and aesthetic choices by working with professors at the Fashion Academy in Antwerp.” For Baloji, fashion is about garments and storytelling, how costumes, art direction, and narration create a cohesive and transformative visual language.Fashion, however, is not a newfound interest but a natural extension of his lifelong appreciation for craftsmanship. As he excitedly explains, "I've got a few fashion projects coming up, and I'm working passionately on the crafts that I've discovered by being a great aficionado of Belgian designers.” From Martin Margiela to Anthony Vaccarello, Baloji draws inspiration from the greats. He also admires icons like Karl Lagerfeld, particularly his work with Métiers d'Art, which combines tradition and modernity in high fashion.For an artist whose work resists labels, the interplay of cultural traditions is central to his creative process. Whether in music, film, or fashion, Baloji treats symbols and narratives with a curiosity that invites exploration and connection. “I read the newspaper, I listen to author podcasts, I read biographies, even 50 Cent's is a gold mine, full of knowledge. Culture is about reaching out, stepping out of your comfort zone, and learning from others,” he says. This philosophy extends into his personal life, where he immerses his young daughter in a broad spectrum of experiences. From waacking events - waacking is a street dance style - to art galleries, Congolese snack bars to Korean neighborhoods, opera houses, and street basketball courts, Baloji ensures that she grows up understanding the value of diversity. He says that different opinions and perspectives build character, and that’s something “I want her to carry forward.”The turning point in Baloji’s career came with his evolution from music to filmmaking. This shift, while natural in hindsight, was filled with challenges. He reveals that he went to the European Cinema Commission (the non-profit association that supports filmmaking in Europe) “26 times between 2012 and 2022, and they only gave me the green light once.” Despite the promises of diversity and meritocracy often preached in the industry, the experience disillusioned him. They make you believe in the idea of “when you want it, you can (get funding), but it’s a lie. It’s about knowing who has the power to make it happen.” Despite these barriers, Baloji’s persistence paid off. His film Omen (known locally as Augure) received international acclaim, showcasing his ability to tell deeply resonant stories across mediums. Yet he remains grounded, crediting much of his success to the support of his family. “I owe so much to my daughter’s mother, who supported me through four years of filmmaking without income or certainty. She’s my luck.”Freedom, strength, and rebellion run like threads through Baloji’s work, but these qualities did not come without struggle. He speaks candidly about the sacrifices he has made for his art, describing a pivotal moment when he poured 25k of his own money into a film project. “My cinematographer told me: ‘25K is what I pay for my house mortgage.’ I don’t have a house; I’m still renting. But I see that sum as an investment in my art, in fighting for it to exist despite the obstacles.” For Baloji, creation is a form of resistance and determination. His projects are not simply about aesthetics but about narrative, depth and meaning. “People misunderstand my work; they think it’s just about images. But the visuals tell a story. They look easy to imitate, but it’s the flow of ideas that counts. Execution changes over time, but the narrative is what endures.”Strangely, Baloji’s recognition in the film world solidified his broader reputation. As the president of the Camera d’Or at Cannes, he found himself in a position of respect within an industry that had long resisted his inclusion. “I think I’m one of the first self-taught filmmakers to win a prize at Cannes and represent a country at the Oscars.” His film Augure (known as Omen internationally) was the Belgian entry for Best International Feature Film at the Oscars in 2023. But there’s still a long way to go in breaking glass ceilings for creative minorities and Black men. However groundbreaking, Baloji’s achievements are only one step in a larger journey toward systemic change.Despite the seriousness of his work, Baloji finds ways to invite lightness into his life. “There’s a lot of humor in my films and my work in general, but it’s secondary at first sight”, he explains. Humor is the politeness of despair, but so is poetry. When it’s time to decompress, he turns to simple pleasures: traveling, cooking, watching soccer (his beloved Real Madrid), or indulging in the freedom of not setting the alarm. These moments of lightness, however small, are vital to his sense of balance.Peace, for Baloji, remains an evolving concept. “I don’t know if I’m at peace with my past, but not having all the answers keeps me alert. It inspires me to keep fighting for myself, my loved ones, and for change.” Through his art, he challenges certain ideologies and redefines what it means to belong. “Art shapes how we view identity and culture, but curiosity drives creativity,” he says. With this insatiable curiosity and a refusal to accept limits, Baloji continues to transcend boundaries, inspiring others to embrace their roots while daring to create something entirely their own. Baloji is not just a symbol of resilience; he invites us to dream bigger and create fearlessly.The Patta Magazine Volume 4 will be included for free with each online order of the Patta Angelwings T-shirt while stock lasts.