Crystal
The Story of an Unreleased Masterpiece
Crystal was the first track I completed in full. It was 1997, and my understanding of music production was still forming – shaped more by instinct and DJ experience than by formal technique. The intention was clear: to create a suspended, melancholic atmosphere. A sound space without contour, driven by repetition and delay. An emotional sensation of distance. At the time, I was active as a DJ and organizer in South Bohemia, working closely with Michael Burian. He introduced me to turntables, and together we began curating our own nights. The guests we invited – DJs, live acts, promoters – opened a new perspective on what electronic music could be, both on and beyond the dancefloor. Musically, I was drawn to the Berlin sound of the time, particularly to the releases on MFS. Founded by Mark Reeder in 1990, MFS emerged from the infrastructure of the former East German label AMIGA and focused on electronic music from Eastern Europe. Artists like Paul van Dyk, Cosmic Baby, Johnny Klimek and Ellen Allien released defining works through the label. Some of them played at our events. Their presence influenced our sense of what was possible.
A New Chapter: MFS and the Berlin Shift
In 1998, I relocated to Berlin. I began working closely with Mark Reeder. I sent him a few tracks. He responded immediately, as someone with a precise ear for potential. MFS, still reconfiguring itself after Paul van Dyk’s departure, became the platform for this next phase. Our collaboration was immediate and complete: music, artwork, events, direction. Crystal was part of that process, a track from before Berlin, re-entering in a new form.
Bernard Sumner and the Turning Point
What followed was unexpected in its precision. At the time, I had sent Mark my first demo, which included two tracks: Smile and Memories. It was Memories that later became the foundation for Crystal. When Mark received a vocal recording from Bernard Sumner, frontman of New Order – sent privately, as a gesture of support – he passed it on to me and suggested I experiment with it. The vocal fit almost exactly. I made a slight downward pitch adjustment to align it with the instrumental, then layered it onto the original 1997 version. The structure, harmony, and phrasing required no further modification. It worked as it was. What emerged was a demo: technically limited, but compositionally complete. The contrast was striking – my first fully constructed track, shaped by intuition and minimal tools, paired with the voice of a seasoned artist. That disparity became part of its identity. The version remained unchanged. Adjustments were made, a demo prepared. The piece was scheduled for inclusion on Collaborator, a compilation of joint productions. Bernard approved the demo and sent it to Pete Tong, then A&R at London Records. Tong responded immediately. His verdict: “This is the best New Order track since Blue Monday.” But with it came a demand: the track had to be released under the New Order name. There was one complication: the band no longer existed. Tong persisted. New Order reassembled. Mark agreed to hold back the MFS version. Our demo was shelved. The official version of Crystal appeared years later on New Order’s Get Ready. Our version remained unreleased.
Crystal was never published in its original form. But its effect was real. It facilitated a reunion. It drew a line between personal work and cultural moment. For me, it stands as a reminder of how collaboration can extend beyond authorship and how a track may unfold a purpose even if it remains unheard. Anyway. A few years later, my own club mix – featuring Bernard Sumner’s original vocals – was released on vinyl in 2001 via Flesh. It remains the only official version of our original collaboration to appear publicly.