- Nov 19
- 2 min read
Released 30 years ago october 1995
Simon Watkins artwork
The album was written in a crumbling warehouse in Shoreditch long before anyone could buy a latte there. Back then, Shoreditch still smelled of soot and old paperbacks, still clung to its Dickensian bones if you scratched beneath the dirt.
Kubrick films looped endlessly in that place. Especially “2001, A Space Odyssey”. The title came from its final chapter, “Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite”, a doorway into the unknown that felt eerily similar to what we were trying to do with sound.
The core group was small: myself, Mike Maguire, Stefan Holweck, Johann Bley, and a Turnip the Swede.
Ben - Mike - Steffan
Pic Ronnie Randall
Mike deserves special mention. He wasn’t a musician in the traditional sense, but he was one of the top DJs of the time sharp instincts, no ego, and a laser-guided ear for what truly mattered. That gave Juno Reactor an edge others didn’t have. I met Mike at Greyhound Records before Juno Reactor even had a name. He adored the “Psycho Slaphead” 12" vinyl, 100 copies made! And we clicked instantly. Our first track together was “High Energy Protons”, more of an explosion than a beginning.
Otto the Barbarian — my Jack Russell and unofficial engineer — patrolled the studio with devout seriousness.
And Nahoko, the tape op I’d met on a KLF film shoot on Jura Scotland, kept us fed and occasionally sane. She later confessed that the studio was haunted. She wasn’t joking. It felt entirely plausible, especially on her acid.
What truly shaped “Beyond the Infinite” was our desire to feed heads on the dance floor and vanish the rulebook. Throw away all blueprints. Burn the map.
We blended industrial edges, jungle loops, cinematic atmospheres, tribal drumming, wild samples, and huge dynamic shifts. At the time, most electronic music stayed obediently in its lane. We didn’t want a lane. Still don’t.
Bowl Court Studio after the refit by Robert Trunz
Everything was recorded live to a DAT machine, long takes, hands on the desk, pushing buttons, riding faders, slamming reverbs and delays in real time. Instinct first, perfection second. That raw collision of tape, computer, and chaos gave the album a pulse most other records didn’t have then.
Originally, it was meant for NovaMute, but it found a better home with Simon Ghahary and Robert Trunz at the beginning of “The Blue Room” label. Robert brought not just support but new worlds, Mabi Thobejane, Amampondo, a rhythm and heartbeat that would later shape the global, cinematic Juno Reactor sound people now know through “Bible of Dreams”.
Looking back, “Beyond the Infinite” joined the underground electronic scene; it tilted it. Nudged it. Maybe even cracked it open a little. It helped shift trance into something that wasn’t merely trance, something still searching for its name. A music that felt alive, unpredictable, and strangely soulful.
stay strange, stay kind,
and keep listening for the pulse beneath it all.
