Grief gets its hands in the air on “Hands Up“, but it never treats the club as an escape hatch.
This album from Tel Aviv producer Sonic Pulses puts house, techno, and trance in motion. It honours Shirel Sara Golan, the artist’s sister, who was lost during the Nova events.
The release date marks her birthday. That timing gives each upward lift a catch in the throat. This album review considers a record built for release, yet anchored by longing.
SONIC PULSES spent 15 years in Tel Aviv nightlife, then withdrew into a home studio for a year. After recovery from addiction and C-PTSD, the producer focused on making new work.
HANDS UP arrived as a third major 2026 release. The album frames that pace as a deliberate act of return. It does not tidy grief into a neat arc.
Instead, it lets the body move while the mind circles what cannot come back.
The palette is direct but far from plain. Groovy basslines pull forward, rich harmonies hold their ground, and arpeggios flicker at the edges. Guitar work brings another grain to the electronic frame.
Meanwhile, Juliata Cohen, Yam Gronic, and Myia May join the project as vocalists. Those voices give the songs human pressure.
The beat can press ahead, then leave a chord hanging in the air.
SONIC PULSES handled effects, mix preparation, and sound design in a professional home studio. The producer then sent stems to a mixer. Zohar Bartov mixed and mastered the album.
House, techno, and trance meet in a shared late-night corridor, where a bassline can carry a private thought farther than a speech. The artist cites The Chemical Brothers, Daft Punk, Jan Blomqvist, Marsh, and the wider trance scene.
Those touchpoints point toward the record’s restless forward motion.
“Where Can I Find” reaches toward Shirel Sara Golan as a cry to the sky. Its question holds loss, longing, and a wish for connection beyond death.
It does not pretend it can solve any of them. The album also holds a former relationship close. Cohen sings the third track, which concerns her and the artist’s past.
These details make HANDS UP feel lived-in. It carries personal history into a dance context without using the dance floor as camouflage.
There is useful friction in that approach. Quick clips can flatten a dance track into a single drop, but HANDS UP asks for patience and full attention.
Its electronic arrangements leave room for feeling to gather. Still, the record does not turn inward at the cost of pulse. It faced a real social test at a friend’s wedding, where the artist received a strong response.
That setting says plenty. These songs can carry private hurt into a room full of people and keep the room moving.
The title lands like a cue from a DJ booth, yet the feeling underneath is far heavier than celebration. That tension gives the album its charge.
For listeners who follow new electronic music from Tel Aviv, HANDS UP offers a producer working from a deeply personal place in club-ready forms.
It may also connect with anyone who has used rhythm to get through a hard night. Here, release does not mean forgetting.
Instead, it means finding space to breathe, move, and stay present.
HANDS UP leaves SONIC PULSES with momentum, not a finished statement. The producer has more work ahead, and this album makes a clear case for following it.
Start with “Where Can I Find,” then let the basslines, vocals, and rising patterns carry you into the rest.
Press play when you want dance music that keeps its heart in the room.
