Released 2026-02-04

 

   “Words belong to those who have experienced it.” 

  G’day!

 Sidney SN 2026 is here with a brand-new drum & bass mix.

Sidney wasn’t exactly keen to mix something new after Discotheque, a mix he enjoyed. But then again, he could say the same about Orangery or plenty of his other mixes.

The Netherlands — especially its coastline — is something Sidney SN associates with Australian coastlines. 

Recently, the Netherlands a survey (Numbeo Quality of Life Index) ranked as number one in the world for quality of life. Another survey (Berkshire Hathaway Travel Protection) named Australia the second safest country on the planet.

Both the Netherlands and Australia inspire me, and that happs runs right through Sidney SN’s music.

 Happs 

 is a new Sidney SN mix to kick off 2026. In a way, this year marks an anniversary — ten years ago, back when he was still just Sidney (without the SN), Sidney mixed his very first liquid drum & bass set.

The mix is almost entirely liquid drum and bass, but there are rare exceptions that might not sound like drum and bass, even though they were released by the best drum and bass labels. In the end of the mix is also mixed a hip hop track. I also like hip hop.

Sometimes people say that Amsterdam slightly distorts how the Netherlands is seen. But ordinary people aren’t like these Red Lights mixed with Dreamcatcher in the end of the Sidney SN mix. 

All words belong to those who have experienced it...

Tracklist:

 Overgrown by Pola & Bryson  (Shogun Audio)

 Want U Bad by Solah  (Hospital Records)

 Keeping Pace by Pola & Bryson  (Shogun Audio)

 Waiting For Me by Bob x Subwave  (Hospital Records)

 Caliban by Etherwood  (Hospital Records)

 Moonwater by Aftertones  (Ledge Sounds)

 Bell Tune by LSB  (Footnotes)

 Talk To Me by Koherent feat. Riya  (Shogun Audio)

 Liberated (by Kraedt) Kolosu Remix  (Ledge Sounds)

 Want U by Anaïs  (Hospital Records)

 Dreamcatcher by Wagz  (Metalheadz)

 Red Lights by Brandom Strife 

Experiences Over Statistics

 Recently, I wrote about Grand Est in France. The truth is that, statistically, French cities often rank among the most dangerous in Europe. In many cases, this is true not only statistically.

Grande Île de Strasbourg 

I wrote about Grand Est intentionally because cities in Grand Est, such as Strasbourg, do not rank among the most dangerous cities.

 I don’t like statistics. Safety statistics, including those from Eurostat, are based on reported cases. Reality can be different, and from experience, it is. In Czechia, cities have everyday crime that Eurostat does not cover, I think. This is precisely because it concerns safety—things are either not reported, or people don’t see that reporting would solve the problem, or the issue does not turn against the person reporting another. In many Czech cities, people complain that they are afraid to be outside during the day, let alone after dark. Eurostat, however, shows nothing like this.

The same goes for cost of living. Statistics often deal with prices but not with wages, for example. When statistics claim that living costs are lower somewhere, income is not taken into account at all. This is just one example of how statistics fail when it comes to cost of living or poverty.

I don’t know exactly how Strasbourg compares statistically to cities in Czechia, for instance. However, my impression is that Strasbourg itself is safer and calmer than cities in the Czechia. For example, at night, a drone is enough to cover many areas and monitor moving people. In Czech cities, a drone would not be sufficient in similar places.

At first glance, this might seem like excessive control. But the situation is clear: Strasbourg is calm at night in these areas. People are practically absent, homeless people or drug users are minimally visible—or rather, they are simply not there—and the space is well monitored. In such a case, a drone is sufficient for prevention and monitoring.

The contrast with many Czech cities — statistically different places — is stark. In city centers and main areas, movement of various “undesirables” is common even during the day—homeless people, drug users, thieves, or even worse. People often fear intervening, even when something happens that would require a reaction. In such an environment, a drone would not be sufficient—the area is too lively.

It is also clear that official statistics, for example Eurostat in my view, do not provide an accurate picture. They are based only on reported cases and often do not reflect how people actually feel or how safe their daily environment is. In cities, people regularly experience fear from everyday crime, complain about the situation, which statistics almost never capture.

Strasbourg, which I used here as an example, is, from the perspective of nighttime calm around the center and safety, simply a “different world.” Drones there work as an effective supplement for prevention. In similar Czech cities, this approach would fail because the dynamics and concentration of problematic groups in the center and main areas do not allow for simple technological monitoring.

So calm and a sense of safety in a city are not just about statistics or technology, but about the actual reality, the visibility of problems, and the experience of the people who live and move there. Strasbourg shows that sometimes it’s enough to simply have a space where people “normally aren’t” for prevention to be effective. In my view, if there were a society that denied the existence of crime, Eurostat would evaluate that society as perfectly fine.

I don’t even need to mention why so many people outside of a country know me. This is also something that could be sociologically questioned. 

      

        “These styles focus on melodic builds and smooth evolution rather than big drops.”

 Who is Miss Monique?

  I found myself wondering why I’d even make a post about Miss Monique. Then I thought—what if this were 11 or 12 years ago? What would I have said about Miss Monique back then?

A progressive stream by a DJ I’d never heard of appeared on YouTube. Her music made me feel something immediately—melodic, flowing in a really engaging way.

Miss Monique 2016

I remember being drawn to how colorful it felt. I was listening to streams from Ukrainian Radio Intense. Her name is Miss Monique.

It must have been around the time of the war in Donbas. Back then, I remember being somewhat naive about it all, even surprised by who Miss Monique was. But those Radio Intense streams had a certain atmosphere—they stood out.

Today, of course, many more people know Miss Monique. Miss Monique doesn’t really need an introduction anymore… Miss Monique is a Ukrainian progressive producer and DJ, now recognized all over the world.

Electric, Biosphere, Loona, Raindrop, Timelapse, Means To An End, Concorde, Eros, I need U, Miss Monique Remix of Yang, etc. I like this music. 

 This post came from spending a few days listening to Miss Monique music again on Spotify. What surprised me was that she still creates the same kind of sound I used to search for 11, 12 years ago on YouTube. That feeling hasn’t changed—and that made me genuinely happy.

In what Ukraine represents today; It holds onto something not everyone once expected from it. Ukraine is strong. 

The Dutch CCTV

 I had an arguments about why the Netherlands is a pretty friendly country and seems to be safe.

  Yet, 

the fact that the atmosphere in the Netherlands often feels more relaxed: 

 Dutch cities also tend to have CCTV networks, integrated with AI-based monitoring and real-time alert systems, and you can be everywhere immediately warned by police through loudspeakers on the street or in a park about your behavior without any intermediary.

Once, for example, I experienced a situation where someone who was trying to have a “picnic” in a Dutch park was warned over the police loudspeaker. It was quite a shock, because in other parts of the same park man can clearly see people sitting on benches and for example they smoking a joint, since THC is legal in the Netherlands. But this particular area is more nature protected.

Another example is this experience where a Czech bus drivers tried to enter the Maastunnel in Rotterdam, and they were immediately warned over the loudspeaker by police and given instructions to back out of the tunnel entrance. People in the cars near the tunnel were quite surprised by the event. The yellow bus had to turn around in the bend of cars in front of the tunnel. Traffic into the Maastunnel was blocked because of it. At first, I was surprised that the bus drivers didn’t know where to go in Rotterdam towards Centraal Station, and then that they drove into a Maastunnel meant for cars, which caused the incident. In the end, though, I couldn’t help laughing at the confusion they caused and how they were being instructed over the loudspeakers by police, they were shocked because this immediately CCTV system and loudspeakers itself. It was such a typical “Czech” decision to “just cut it off there and see what happens”. The bus drivers probably didn’t know about CCTV networks in Rotterdam and police loudspeakers which a one can find all over Rotterdam. The truth is, it was crazy to want to go into a tunnel with passenger cars. 

When Euphoria Turns Into an Opponent

 Recently, I read that in the United States there has been a significant increase in THC use in recent years. Along with this, a phenomenon known as Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS) has been appearing more frequently.

 THC, which many perceived as a beneficial, calming, or medicinal substance, has in some cases turned into an opponent.

THC often acts as a means of inducing euphoria, relieving various types of pain, and improving appetite. However, in some cases—especially with chronic use—it transforms into the opposite of what it was meant to provide.

Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS) is precisely that opposite, and it appears to occur in many chronic THC users.

From experience, I have encountered this in certain individuals as well. They often appear tired, weakened, lacking appetite, frequently vomiting—yet they continue using THC, believing they will overcome the condition, or perhaps due to a perceived dependence. This is cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome.

I looked into 

 the reasons behind CHS:

 The endocannabinoid system is a part of the human body—it regulates mood, appetite, stress, and pain perception. When this system is stimulated externally over a long period of time, it adapts. It reduces sensitivity. It recalibrates. It searches for a new balance: The paradox is that the more a person tries to stabilize their experience through an external substance, the more they may disrupt the body’s ability to stabilize itself.

What is striking is the cyclical nature of this phenomenon: Nausea → THC use → short-term relief → deeper destabilization → further use.

The body sends a signal, but the mind interprets it through past experience: “This has always helped me.” And it is precisely this memory of relief that sustains the cycle.

Physical exhaustion, dehydration, and loss of strength during CHS episodes are symptoms. The body loses electrolytes, cannot eat, sleeps poorly. The body is under strain. Psychological apathy, irritability, or anxiety when abstaining point to another kind of dependence—not necessarily dramatic, but quiet: dependence on external regulation of one’s internal state. The user may find themselves in a vicious circle, aware that THC no longer benefits them, yet unable to stop using it.

The phenomenon of CHS is not merely a medical complication. It is a reminder that any long-term artificial amplification or suppression of a system changes its fundamental setting.

Not every long-term cannabis user will experience this condition. Reactions are individual. Genetics, frequency of use, THC potency, and nervous system sensitivity all play a role. But for those in whom this cycle develops, 

  the solution…

 is paradoxically simple—though psychologically demanding: complete cessation for at least an extended period of time. A return may be possible, but likely only in the form of occasional use rather than chronic use.