Pacific Spirit in stock at Hard Wax Berlin.
“Electrifying acidic Drum & Bass adventures”
Shawn Reynaldo Reviews 747's Lost Lagoon on his First Floor Newsletter
Read the full newsletter on First Floor
747 “Lost Lagoon” (Aquaregia)
What would it sound like if Tin Man made a jungle record? 747’s new Pacific Spirit album provides a pretty solid—and highly enjoyable—answer, even though the Toronto producer most likely had other things in mind when he started working on the record. With its billowing textures and dreamlike atmosphere, LP standout “Lost Lagoon” might actually qualify as liquid drum & bass, and while its tweaky wiggles will surely excite the acid crowd, the song also nods toward the majestic end of the trance spectrum, populating its closing minutes with a volley of elegantly fluttering melodies.
DJMag France Reviews Pacific Spirit
Read the full review in French on DJ Mag France
Six ans après son dernier album, 747 revient avec Pacific Spirit, un virage break et introspectif, inspiré par Vancouver et habité par la brume.
Six ans après son dernier album studio, le producteur canadien 747 – alias Ryan Chan – sort de l’ombre avec Pacific Spirit, un disque audacieux et profondément personnel, paru ce 26 juillet 2025 sur le label Aquaregia. Loin de l’acid techno linéaire et mélancolique qui avait fait sa renommée avec le classique Aurora Centralis en 2017, le musicien s’aventure ici dans une direction nouvelle, pleine de ruptures rythmiques, de nostalgie liquide et d’introspection nébuleuse.
Un virage jungle plein de nuances
747 n’a jamais été un simple producteur d’acid techno. Son travail a toujours trahi une sensibilité mélodique, une recherche d’atmosphères. Sur Pacific Spirit, cette recherche s’élargit, se densifie, change d’horizon. Inspiré par sa ville natale de Vancouver, par ses forêts humides et ses ciels laiteux, Chan plonge dans un bain d’influences breakbeat et jungle, avec des éclats de trance 90s, tout en gardant son acide fétiche : la 303 serpente toujours en fond, mais il est ici plus joueur, moins autoritaire.
L’album ne s’impose pas comme un manifeste club, mais plutôt comme une fresque de paysages mentaux. Les neuf morceaux se construisent par contrastes : nappes ambient contre rythmiques fracturées, lignes de basse brumeuses contre percussions précises, mélancolie contre euphorie contenue. Un équilibre subtil qui fait toute la force du disque.
Un voyage intime, sans climax forcé
Dès le morceau d’ouverture, on comprend que Pacific Spirit est un album qui prend son temps. Les intros sont longues, souvent texturées comme un brouillard sonore. Puis viennent les breaks, parfois chaotiques, jamais gratuits. On sent une volonté d’échapper au format, de désapprendre les codes du dancefloor tout en les gardant à portée d’oreille. Le rythme n’est jamais imposé, il est proposé.
L’ensemble évoque autant le souvenir d’une rave que le silence d’un matin pluvieux. On pense à l’école de Berlin, à la tension froide de certains disques de Delsin ou Modern Love, mais aussi à l’énergie jungle des pionniers anglais, et à la lumière trance de labels comme Eye Q ou Platipus. Un patchwork maîtrisé, jamais pastiche, toujours sincère.
Le disque-objet, entre code et matière
À l’heure du tout digital, Pacific Spirit se distingue aussi par son format physique. Chaque vinyle de l’édition limitée à 300 exemplaires est unique, orné d’une œuvre générative conçue par 747 et Emily Nicoll en partenariat avec la plateforme Art Blocks. Pas une simple pochette, mais une série algorithmique issue d’un code aléatoire, qui transforme chaque disque en pièce d’art autonome.
Ce geste n’est pas anecdotique. Il prolonge l’intention de l’album : brouiller les frontières entre passé et futur, entre club et musée, entre souvenir et invention. Pacific Spirit n’est pas seulement un retour musical ; c’est aussi un « statement » plastique, une réponse subtile aux formes figées de la musique électronique contemporaine.
Une nouvelle ère
Pour les fans de la première heure, ce virage pourra surprendre. Mais pour qui suivait les signaux faibles des derniers sets de 747, l’évolution semblait déjà en cours. Pacific Spirit n’efface rien. Il reconstruit, à partir des racines, un langage plus fluide, plus libre. Ryan Chan y signe peut-être son disque le plus personnel, le plus contemplatif aussi, mais sans jamais sombrer dans le confort de l’intime.
Un disque brumeux, exigeant, généreux, à écouter comme une randonnée solitaire en forêt. Ou comme le souvenir d’un set rêvé, dans une warehouse qu’on n’a jamais quittée.
English Translation:
Six years after his last album, 747 returns with Pacific Spirit , a break and introspective turn, inspired by Vancouver and inhabited by fog.
Six years after his last studio album, Canadian producer 747 – aka Ryan Chan – steps out of the shadows with Pacific Spirit , a bold and deeply personal album, released on July 26, 2025 on the Aquaregia label . Far from the linear and melancholic acid techno that made his name with the classic Aurora Centralis in 2017, the musician ventures here in a new direction, full of rhythmic ruptures, liquid nostalgia and nebulous introspection.
A jungle bend full of nuances
747 has never been a simple acid techno producer. His work has always betrayed a melodic sensibility, a search for atmospheres. On Pacific Spirit , this search broadens, densifies, changes horizons. Inspired by his hometown of Vancouver, by its humid forests and milky skies, Chan dives into a bath of breakbeat and jungle influences, with bursts of 90s trance, while keeping his favorite acid: the 303 still meanders in the background, but here he is more playful, less authoritarian.
The album doesn't come across as a club manifesto, but rather as a fresco of mental landscapes. The nine tracks are constructed through contrasts: ambient layers against fractured rhythms, hazy bass lines against precise percussion, melancholy against contained euphoria. A subtle balance that gives the album its strength.
An intimate journey, without forced climaxes
From the opening track, we understand that Pacific Spirit is an album that takes its time. The intros are long, often textured like a fog of sound. Then come the breaks, sometimes chaotic, never gratuitous. We sense a desire to escape the format, to unlearn the codes of the dancefloor while keeping them within earshot. The rhythm is never imposed, it is proposed.
The whole thing evokes both the memory of a rave and the silence of a rainy morning. We think of the Berlin school, the cold tension of certain records by Delsin or Modern Love, but also the jungle energy of English pioneers, and the trance light of labels like Eye Q or Platipus. A masterful patchwork, never pastiche, always sincere.
The object disc, between code and matter
In the digital age, Pacific Spirit also stands out for its physical format. Each vinyl in the 300-copy limited edition is unique, adorned with a generative artwork designed by 747 and Emily Nicoll in partnership with the Art Blocks platform. Not just a simple cover, but an algorithmic series derived from random code, transforming each record into a standalone piece of art.
This gesture is not anecdotal. It extends the album's intention: to blur the lines between past and future, between club and museum, between memory and invention. Pacific Spirit is not only a musical comeback; it is also a visual statement, a subtle response to the fixed forms of contemporary electronic music.
A new era
For longtime fans, this shift may come as a surprise. But for those who were following the faint signals of 747's latest sets, the evolution already seemed to be underway. Pacific Spirit isn't erasing anything. It's rebuilding, from the roots, a more fluid, freer language. Ryan Chan has perhaps made his most personal and contemplative album yet, but without ever sinking into the comfort of intimacy.
A hazy, demanding, generous album, to be listened to like a solitary hike in the forest. Or like the memory of a dream set, in a warehouse you've never left.
Visions Germany Reviews Pacific Spirit in their August Print Edition
Visions Magazine from Germany reviews Pacific Spirit in their August Print Edition
Visions Magazine (DE) reviews 747’s Pacific Spirit in their August print edition. Text transcript below:
In der elektronische Musik lösen sich Revivals in noch schnellerer Folge ab als in der Rockmusik. Derzeit feiert Drum’n’Bass ein Comeback. Das ist nicht auf das Mutterland des Genres beschränkt, sondern ein weltweites Phänomen. Zu dem trägt diesen Monat der kanadische Produzent Ryan Chan bei. Unter dem Namen 747 veröffentlicht er mit Pacific Spirit ein Album, das an Drum’n’Bass-Helden wie Peshay oder Photek erinnert. Über seine filigranen Beats legt Chan trancige Synthie-Flächen oder lässt die Roland TB-303 ins Trudeln geraten. Pacific Spirit ist eher Listening- als Dance-Music, wirkt im Vergleich zum aktuellen Goldie-Album aber weit weniger wie ein Signal aus der Vergangenheit
English Translation:
In electronic music, revivals follow each other even faster than in rock music. Drum 'n' bass is currently enjoying a comeback. This isn't limited to the genre's homeland, but a global phenomenon. Canadian producer Ryan Chan is contributing to this this month. Under the moniker 747, he's releasing Pacific Spirit, an album reminiscent of drum 'n' bass heroes like Peshay and Photek. Chan layers trance-infused synths over his delicate beats or sends the Roland TB-303 into a spin. Pacific Spirit is more listening than dance music, but compared to the current Goldie album, it feels far less like a signal from the past.
Juno Reviews Pacific Spirit
Juno reviews 747’s latest album Pacific Spirit.
“Toronto, Canada-based acid techno head 747 is back with his first studio album since 2019 and his third on Emily Nicoll's Aquaregia label. This one taps into his roots in the Pacific Northwest with a retro-future collision of jungle breaks, 90s trance and acid across nine cuts that range from atmospheric acid techno to more introspective, breaks-driven sounds, but always with great pad work and rolling basslines making for bursts of chaotic energy. The title cut immediately locks you in with thrilling drum programming and pensive 303s, then cuts like 'Second Narrows' get more frantic and mind-melting and 'Camosun Bog' pairs plunging bass with more meticulous drums.”
Grab a copy of the vinyl on Juno
Pacific Spirit stocked in the bins at London's Phonica and Planet Wax
British crate diggers can grab their physical copy of 747’s album Pacific Spirit in store at Phonica Records or jungle haven Planet Wax in London.
Links to the stores below:
Nowamuzyka (PL) reviews 747's album Pacific Spirit
Read the full review on Nowamuzyka
Oda do oceanu.
W minionej dekadzie głośno zrobiło się o scenie klubowej elektroniki w kanadyjskim Vancouver. Pojawiło się bowiem w tamtym czasie kilka nowych wytwórni płytowych, które zaproponowały świeże spojrzenie na techno i house. Najpierw usłyszeliśmy o 1080p, a potem pojawiły się Pacific Rhythm, Proibito, Rhythm Section i Mood Hut. Mimo, że każda z tych tłoczni serwowała nieco inną muzykę, było coś, co łączyło wydawane przezeń płyty: ciepłe i łagodne brzmienie, przebojowa melodyka, pozytywna energia. Być może sprawiała to bliskość Pacyfiku – oto teraz do jego kojącego wpływu przyznaje się bowiem młody producent z Vancouver – Ryan Chan, działający pod szyldem 747.
Zadebiutował w 2015 roku i początkowo wykorzystywał swą fascynację muzyką z Detroit i Berlina do tworzenia zgrabnego tech-house’u. Nowe otwarcie w jego twórczości przyniosły wydane dwa lata później przez jego firmę Aquaregia dwie EP-ki: „Ammonite” i „Aurora Centralis”. Młody producent z jednej strony sięgnął wtedy po trance’owe arpeggia, a z drugiej – nasycił swe nagrania dźwiękami syntezatora TB-303. Tak zabrzmiał też jego debiutancki album z 2019 roku – „The Gate Of Life”. To sprawiło, że trafił do czołówki twórców acid techno, odwołujących się do klasyki gatunku z początku lat 90.
Kolejny zwrot w muzyce Chana wyznacza wydany właśnie jego drugi album. Tym razem sięga on po synkopowane breaki rodem z brytyjskiego jungle, stanowiące podstawę ośmiu z dziewięciu nagrań na „Pacific Spirit”. Te szybkie i połamane rytmy uzupełnia jednak nastrojowa i przestrzenna elektronika. Przede wszystkim są to acidowe loopy o melodyjnym tonie („Second Narrows”), ale też trance’owe arpeggia („Lost Lagoon”), strzeliste akordy („Sea To Sky”) i ambientowe tła („Pacific Spirit”). W rezultacie powstaje urokliwa muzyka, łącząca taneczną energię z nieuchwytną nostalgią („Coquihalla”).
Ryan Chan nie udaje, że wymyśla na swym albumie coś nowatorskiego. Kanadyjski producent świadomie czerpie inspirację z muzyki sprzed trzech dekad. Z podziwu godną zręcznością żongluje charakterystycznymi elementami jungle’u, trance’u i ambientu, podrasowując to wszystko na acidową modłę. Chcąc nie chcąc „Pacific Spirit” wpisuje się w coraz mocniej zauważalny revival klasycznego drum and bassu, układając się przy tym w godzinny zestaw, którego słucha się po prostu z wielką przyjemnością. Niby już to wszystko kiedyś było, ale i tak płyta robi bardzo pozytywne wrażenie.
English Translation:
Ode to the ocean.
The past decade has seen a surge in the electronic club scene in Vancouver, Canada. Several new record labels emerged, offering a fresh take on techno and house. First came 1080p, followed by Pacific Rhythm, Proibito, Rhythm Section, and Mood Hut. Although each of these pressing plants served up slightly different music, there was something common to their releases: a warm and mellow sound, catchy melodies, and positive energy. Perhaps it was the proximity of the Pacific Ocean that contributed to this, as now young Vancouver producer Ryan Chan, working under the moniker 747, acknowledges its soothing influence.
He debuted in 2015 and initially utilized his fascination with Detroit and Berlin music to create slick tech-house. A new beginning in his work came two years later, with two EPs released by his label, Aquaregia: "Ammonite" and "Aurora Centralis." The young producer embraced trance arpeggios while also infusing his recordings with the sounds of the TB-303 synthesizer. This was also the sound of his 2019 debut album, "The Gate Of Life." This positioned him among the leading acid techno artists, harking back to the genre's classics from the early '90s.
The newly released second album marks another turning point in Chan's music. This time, he employs syncopated breaks straight from British jungle, which form the foundation of eight of the nine tracks on "Pacific Spirit." These fast, broken rhythms are complemented by atmospheric, spacious electronics. These include melodic acid loops ("Second Narrows"), trance-like arpeggios ("Lost Lagoon"), soaring chords ("Sea To Sky"), and ambient backdrops ("Pacific Spirit"). The result is a charming piece of music that combines dance energy with an elusive nostalgia ("Coquihalla").
Ryan Chan doesn't pretend to invent anything groundbreaking on his album. The Canadian producer consciously draws inspiration from music from three decades ago. He juggles characteristic elements of jungle, trance, and ambient with admirable skill, tweaking it all in an acid-infused style. Whether he likes it or not, "Pacific Spirit" aligns itself with the increasingly noticeable revival of classic drum and bass, shaping an hour-long set that's simply a joy to listen to. It might seem like all of this has been done before, but the album still leaves a very positive impression.
Part 2 of the Interview with 747 and 15questions
Read the full interview on 15questions
747 about Production, Technology, and Creativity
“There is a deep reservoir of creativity often found within self-imposed constraints.”
Name: Ryan Chan aka 747
Occupation: Producer
Nationality: Canadian
Current Release: 747 new full-length album Pacific Spirit, an audiovisual concept work, is out July 25th 2025 via Aquaregia.
If you enjoyed this 747 interview and would like to stay up to date with his work, visit him on Instagram, Soundcloud, and Facebook.
For a deeper dive, read our earlier 747 interview about the Beauty of Randomness and the Communal Aspects of Generative Art.
The word “production” as a separate item from “composition” suggests a creative process with different stages. Do you see it that way – or are all the steps towards a piece of music always integrated and connected for you?
I see composition as the idea creation stage and production as the execution of that idea, so they are definitely two completely separate things. Naturally in the studio these two stages often happen at the same time so they feel like they are very connected and can also influence each other in the process.
That’s not to say that the execution of an idea has no room for creative decision making. There is a lot of creative bandwidth available during a mixdown or sound design, but the type of creativity there is subtly different, similar to the difference between art and design.
At the end of the day it’s composition that drives the bus.
Do you want technology and production to mainly “serve musical ideas” – or do you like to bring them to the fore and play with them?
I have no problems with technology and production being at the fore in a track because that in itself can be a compelling musical idea. Especially in a club setting, a well produced high-fidelity track can be very powerful and bold. The real question is how interesting that concept is as a musical idea over the course of time.
For example I think we’re seeing intricate modular techno with ear-tickling soundscapes and flawless mixdowns becoming a commodity now and it becomes less interesting with each release.
The concept is impactful, but it is ultimately very shallow.
In how far, would you say, was your evolution as an artist connected to the evolution of your music set-up? Were there shared stepping stones?
I think for any artist it takes time to find the sweet spot in your musical set-up, similar to how it takes time to find your sound. Some find it sooner than others, and for some it’s a never-ending journey.
For me I get distracted by too many pieces of gear or VSTs in the studio so I prefer a minimal set-up, and I think that constraint allows me to be more creative with what I have.
There is one thing I definitely can’t live without though and that’s my Cyclone 303. The rest could go and it probably doesn’t change much.
There are artists who can realise their ideas best with a traditional – or modified – piano interface, others with a keyboard and a mouse, yet others by turning knobs or touching screens. What's your preferred and most intuitive/natural way of making music and why?
It depends on what piece of the track I’m writing. For laying out drums I like using a mouse to write out midi patterns in a drum rack. For pads and leads I work best with a midi keyboard.
On my upcoming album, Pacific Spirit, I worked with a lot of jungle breaks and that was a very different experience to what I normally do with techno drums. I could definitely see myself getting into sampler machines to lay out jungle patterns instead of mouse and keyboard, but oddly for techno I prefer the way I do it manually with a mouse.
Tell me about the space of your current studio/workplace and how you've set it up to optimise creativity.
I’ve moved around a lot in the last 10 years so my studio and listening environment is always changing. It’s actually been more about adapting myself to change rather than optimising my space to my preferences.
Having a minimal set-up allows me to have my synths within arms reach no matter what space I’m in and I think that’s essential for creativity.
Late producer SOPHIE said: “You have the possibility with electronic music to generate any texture, and any sound. So why would any musician want to limit themselves?” What's your take on that?
From the perspective of SOPHIE, who synthesized all of their own sounds from scratch, it’s very difficult to argue with that take. I also see the other side of that argument though, which is that there is a deep reservoir of creativity often found within self-imposed constraints.
I sit somewhere between those two schools of thought, where at a high level I think limitless possibilities are where innovation and new ideas form, but at the more practical execution level, constraints can refine an idea in a way that a limitless approach cannot.
From the earliest sketches to the finished piece, tell me about the production process for Pacific Spirit, please.
For the tracks on Pacific Spirit I always started with a drum break. I then chopped the break up into midi slices and wrote the pattern out.
Depending on the energy I felt from the break pattern the rest of the track was completely open ended and the process changed for each track.
In tracks like “Camosun Bog,” I wrote an acid line and built the track around the acid and breaks.
On “Pacific Spirit“ I sketched out a chord progression and brought in other melodic elements to build around the progression.
I usually decide very early on what the main driver of the song is, whether that is the pads, the bassline, the acid line etc. and work to add elements to complement it.
Do you see a benefit in getting an external producer on board for your studio work? Do you see a benefit in recording or refining at least parts of your music in an external studio?
Like most, I have someone else master my music, but I like to be in control of the rest of the process. I wouldn’t be opposed to an external producer if there was a case where I couldn’t execute an idea myself.
For example I’ve had pretty much no experience recording vocals or live drums so I would be open to having external help there if I wanted to explore that realm.
Generally speaking though, my process in the studio is not very compatible with having other people there with me. I’m someone who needs a lot of control and privacy.