Compost Records has always been the sort of label that refuses to sit still. Since the mid-90s, it has acted like a curious botanist in the sonic jungle, cataloguing species of jazz, house, broken beat, downtempo, techno, and whatever strange hybrid grew in the shade. "Eclectic Selection Vol. 2", lovingly assembled by Rupert & Mennert (those self-styled archivists of the Compost vaults), is less a compilation and more a time-travel diary: a journey through three decades of grooves that don’t quite fit into tidy boxes, but feel strangely timeless.

The set flows like a good conversation at 3 a.m.: Fon-Kin’s "Da Flow" kicks things off with hip-hop swagger, then A Forest Mighty Black and Knowtoryus lean into dusty mid-90s aesthetics - the kind of sample-driven funk that smells faintly of rolling papers and VHS tapes. Robinn’s "The Sound Around Us" drops in with modern polish, a reminder that Compost has never been afraid of soulful hooks, while Alex Attias’ "Finding Who We Are" stretches out like an astral sermon, complete with Colonel Red’s unmistakable grit. By the time we land on Marbert Rocel’s Yoruba-tweaked "Let’s Take Off", the compilation feels less like a museum piece and more like a DJ guiding you through parallel rooms of the same after-party.

There’s humor in the sequencing too - "The Hang Track" retools Manu Delago’s hang drum into something like eco-house therapy, while Zwicker’s "Submarine Kabelgau" bubbles along with playful absurdity (yes, it sounds as odd as its title suggests). And buried in the middle, Genf’s "Stockholm 13 H" acts like an interlude scribbled in shorthand: two minutes of sonic graffiti before the big canvases return.

The lyrics, when they appear - from Mad Fam’lee’s punchy verses to Siri Svegler’s weary refrain of "Not Worth It" - remind us that Compost’s world has always been about human touch as much as studio trickery. There’s joy, cynicism, longing, and above all, a refusal to reduce “club music” to anonymous beats.

The continuous mix by Rupert & Mennert ties it all together with the care of DJs who know both the thrill of the unexpected drop and the beauty of leaving silence between notes. It’s less about nostalgia and more about reminding us that genre boundaries were always imaginary fences anyway.

Listening to "Eclectic Selection Vol. 2" is like leafing through an old photo album and realizing half the pictures look like they could have been taken yesterday. Compost’s trick has always been to curate music that feels out of time - colorful souvenirs, yes, but also a reminder that the sound around us has always been richer than we first thought.