Three different windows into Dylan Khotin-Foote’s music —Beautiful You, New Tab and Area 3’s View — are now in the ISC store. Some music just feels better on […]
From Dub to Balearic: Ban Ban Ton Ton’s Map of the Esoteric

Dr. Rob’s long-running blog offers deep, genre-crossing insights from a quiet corner of Japan, connecting forgotten records, thoughtful mixes, and the slow magic of discovery.
In the wide-open sprawl of mixtapes, online radio, and niche music blogs, we’ve come to rely on a few trusted destinations. Places that don’t just serve up playlists or recycled PR, but offer a real point of view. One we return to often is Ban Ban Ton Ton, a WordPress blog based in Japan run by Robert Harris aka Dr. Rob, a UK-born DJ and writer whose posts pull from decades of listening, collecting, and connecting. What began in 2016 as a personal archive has evolved into a global resource — a low-key but deeply tuned portal where esoteric records, thoughtful mixes, and under-the-radar reissues are treated with care and context.
The draw isn’t just the selections, though those run deep — dub, ambient, jazz, house, Balearic, outsider pop — but the framing. Rob writes with a calm authority, tracing links between forgotten records and emerging scenes, always more interested in resonance than novelty. A given week might bring an annotated reissue review, a guest mix from a Brazilian selector you’ve never heard of but instantly trust, or an interview with a producer whose catalog never left Japanese crates. The pace is deliberate, the tone generous, and the archive vast enough to get lost in for hours.
The site recently led me through a wormhole that arrived at Balearic Cosmic Dub, a slow-motion mix by Andy Hickford that opens with Richard Norris’s “Foundation” and moves through fogged-out dub versions, ambient remixes, and dusk-lit dancefloor detours. DJ Sotofett shows up twice, including a remix of Auntie Flo; Finlay Quaye’s “Even After All” is reworked into something woozy and fragile. Near the 21-minute mark, during a Kenneth Bager track (featuring Julee Cruise), Hickford fades in a recording of a woman recalling her debauched Ibiza youth. It’s a blissful moment that crescendos with a glorious fury. By the time Khan’s acid-fueled “Turkish Bath” eases into Raze’s “Break 4 Love (Skunk Dub),” the set has blurred into something tactile and unplaceable. Like much of what’s shared on the site, it works slowly and stays with you. For example, we’ll be forever grateful that BBTT directed us to this Roberta Flack edit.
Ban Ban Ton Ton has also become an unexpected node in the reissue ecosystem. As labels scramble to unearth the next forgotten gem, Rob’s posts often land early, spotlighting a track or album months before it reappears on vinyl or pops up in a DJ set. But the writing never feels tied to release cycles.
Recent posts include a detailed exploration of David Harrow’s dub-influenced experiments, a review of Volumen Cinco from Ibiza’s Hostal La Torre series, and a reflection on Mark Barrott’s ambient LP Everything Changes, Nothing Ends. There’s also a reissue writeup and deep-cut tips on the Sabres Of Paradise, interviews with both Mixmaster Morris and Sean Johnston, and regular installments of a column called Looking for the Balearic Beat.
The Mixmaster Morris interview is particularly great. Drawn from a larger conversation, these outtakes deep recollections from a pioneer of ambient electronic music. “I used to go and see bands like Bow Gamelan Ensemble,” Morris recalls at one point. “Paul Burwell was the leader. They famously did a gig where they all played up to their waists in water, in the Thames, but they forgot that The Thames was coming in, and so they eventually got submerged and there were bubbles coming up.” Watch it here.
The entries are clean, unsentimental, and grounded in a depth of research and historical awareness that often outpaces what we see in print.
In a digital landscape saturated with frictionless listening and algorithmic sameness, Ban Ban Ton Ton remains human. There’s no branding push, no engagement strategy, no monetized churn. Just one person following their ear and leaving a trail of insight behind. For those of us who still believe discovery is an act of care, not speed, it’s one of the places we trust to tell us what’s worth hearing next.