Fifty years after the original sessions, the Elektriktus story reveals an unexpected second chapter. In 2019, Andrea Centazzo discovered a box full of old unlabeled tape wheels in the attic of his mother’s house. Initially, he had no clue about the music stored in that box but left these tapes in capable hands of his friend and a master recording engineer, Sergio Tomasini, in 2021. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Sergio happened to be without a steady job but volunteered to revive the age-worn tapes and skillfully digitized the long-lost sound hidden beneath the electromagnetism. The resurrected music captured Andrea’s forgotten performances with Lacy, Parker, Kent Carter (US), and Alvin Curran (US), and still-unpublished recorded fragments from the 1973-76 “Elektriktus” sessions.The solution to completing these fragments was conceptually elegant: add contemporary electronics to the original analog recordings – Minimoog, Davolisint, GEM Rodeo 49, gongs, bells, cymbals – creating temporal palimpsest in which the composer at seventy-something engages in dialogue with his younger self. Crucially, Centazzo’s fundamental approach hasn’t changed: “Making a 10-minute loop meant playing and overdubbing for 10 minutes!” No sequencers running automatic patterns, no digital editing – just hands on keyboards, sticks striking metal, the same gestures separated by half a century.Vol. 2 operates in complex register: contemporary electronics don’t erase or “update” the original recordings but exist in conversation with them, creating document that exists in two time signatures simultaneously. By overlaying 2025 digital work onto 1975 analog recordings, Centazzo creates musicological demonstration – proof that affinities between cosmic drift and percussive grounding, between automatic process and improvisational gesture, were present in the original conception, waiting to be heard by ears trained to listen for them.The reborn Ictus label – Centazzo’s own imprint – presents both volumes as complementary documents: Vol. 1 preserving the original artifact in its analog integrity, Vol. 2 revealing its latent possibilities through temporal superimposition. Together, they map territory that standard histories of electronic music have largely overlooked – the Italian synthesis of kosmische consciousness and Mediterranean sensibility, the persistence of jazz’s improvisational ethos within supposedly “cosmic” structures. The phantom that PDU Records once denied a proper name finally speaks, twice, across fifty years.