Going by the professional moniker Space Electronic Disco, Shane Thwaites’ artistry is a bold fusion of emotional depth, sonic experimentation, and warranted chaos. For the longest time, he has been delivering audio hallucinations for the misfits of the modern world, taking them to places that have otherwise been deemed ‘restricted!‘His music exists in the liminal space between euphoria and disintegration, where analog warmth meets digital decay, and machine textures pulse with very human anxieties. It’s the sound of a haunted dance floor orbiting a distant moon, where nostalgia for ’80s synths collides with the dystopian grit of industrial noise. With a production style that is as tactile as it is cinematic, space electronic disco blurs the line between dance music and introspection, creating tracks that are as likely to make you move as they are to make you reflect. It’s sonic beauty that’s been dented, polished with chaos, and lit by neon. It’s so good to have you, really.
“They traded peace for another round, and now the sun keeps going down/But one day won’t come back ‘round!” Yeah, those lines hit deep as a billionaire’s cave. Space Electronic Disco’s newest release, “The Sun” has got me wondering—what if the end of the world had a beat?
For this Australian producer, “The Sun” is his most visceral track yet. It is a cinematic, funky, nostalgic, synth-soaked cry from the edge of collapse. Fusing the searing urgency of industrial rock, the sleek pulse of funk, and the haunted introspection of a world in freefall, this new single doesn’t just slap—it scorches.
Built from live lead vocals, analog synths, Moog bass, and vocoder backing lines that shimmer like a distress signal, “The Sun” captures the eerie stillness of watching disaster unfold in real time. Written months before the latest escalation in Gaza, the song has taken on an eerily prophetic weight.
With lyrics pulled from emotional rubble and sonic textures wired together like a malfunctioning alien mainframe, “The Sun” channels the tension between numbness and urgency, between synthetic polish and raw feeling. It’s a dance track for doomsday, a lament for a looping history, and a mirror held up to those of us still trying to feel.
Like Space says, this is more than just a song but a warning and a prayer—a solar flare of feeling in a culture gone cold.
With this new apocalyptic anthem, Space Electronic Dance is making a statement that he is building a sound world for the emotionally complex, the truth resistors, the irredeemably stubborn minds, the rhythmically restless, and the wonderfully weird—a place where club music can cry and where late-night thoughts have a beat to bleed to.
You all better listen. For more info, check out his website www.spaceelectronicdisco.com
