It is only January, —yet the year already feels like it’s coming apart. Violence flickers across our screens, condensed into endless images, making us wonder whether today’s fractures are born from yesterday’s silences.

The First of January is always a success—crowded, electric, almost inevitable. If you made it through the queue, you felt it: no one wanted to leave; Tilt dissolved into the hic et nunc. This is the gesture Tilt returns to each time—a quiet insistence on letting the rave hold more stories, more ways of being together. We hope you find your way back, again and again, because this January edition of Tilt is more than a continuation—it is a call to gather: to listen, to move, to hold space for our voices. The artists move between memory and immediacy, threading what has been into what is, searching for beauty in what still longs to become.

For KW, we asked Afreeda to shape the night. The collective founded to amplify underrepresented voices in the local music and club scene,—political gestures that refuse erasure. They invited Reug Reug, a duo that insists on being heard; FONCÉ, whose practice is rooted in storytelling and remembrance; and soungou whose late capitalist anger and anxious rage dilute in a nostalgic attempt of letting loose.

BR is grounded in rave culture. Saiye understands the club as a site of movement and friction, their sets unfold through contrast and momentum, staying fluid and responsive to the room.
Atrice will play live. The duo merges detailed sound design with bass-heavy club music. Shaped by everyday encounters and the relentless flow of digital stimuli, their sound draws from sound system culture, channeling the physical weight of low frequencies and the shared energy of collective spaces. Finally, EMA brings a dedication to low-end frequencies and the values of community rave culture. The Dublin based artist, deeply informed by the lineage of dub-inspired club music, her sets bring also a spirit of unity, care, and togetherness.

In Halle: waste of resources, plastic waste, dwindling flora and fauna: between one global and private horror and another, apocalyptic environmental horror lurks insidiously. Stefan Kägi and Silvia Berchtold take a night to explore musical-performative methods of dealing with it, accepting it, transforming it, and developing countermeasures against it. Terrifying, encouraging, relaxing, thought-provoking.