After hearing the first breakbeats via Finnish radio’s nightly shows introducing the burgeoning UK scene, Virko Veskoja, later the leading figure of Lu:k, was completely swept away by this new technological language that sounded like machines attempting to initiate contact with people. The fluttering rhythm patterns, strings and vocal lines haunted the pathways of an infinite network.

Reimagining it all in mid-1990s Estonia—a fresh and dirt-poor republic newly welcomed to the family of sovereign states on the outskirts of Eastern Europe—was challenging, to say the least. Finally, with the help of entry-level music programmes, custom-made soundcards and self-built computers, Lu:k took the first tentative steps in Estonian jungle history.

In May 2025, record label Memme Vaev compiled eight Lu:k cuts into a handy selection—a true sign of the times, when uncertainty was accompanied by a sense of hope and optimism: new territories to chart, new frontiers to conquer. Lu:k’s signature track from their early days was “La:v”, a piece lifted to heaven with Petula Clark’s vocals, about which music critic Tõnis Kahu has stated: “Softly totalitarian, mildly, numbingly violent, like an antidepressant, a way of programming through metaphysical beauty, an input that preserves perception.”

Lu:k’s sonic adventures sound as thrilling and gorgeously numbing today as they did 30 years ago.