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Listen to Not so slowthai Mixes by Mandidextrous, a playlist curated by Mandidextrous on desktop and mobile. Vinyl and CD audio in one disc. By djdiggla, October 18, Any one got this DVD with DJ Logic. any good torrent sites I could get an invite too?

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Dextrous one dj torrent

Опубликовано в Hy tek one torrent | Октябрь 2, 2012

dextrous one dj torrent

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I don't like it when someone tries to grab my microphone. I react violently. Although lam, at heart, a pacifist. But with the right records, mindset and, more specifically, the good crowd, I guess you could always get a party started with any Michael Jackson record. I really, really want to go back there. Johnny had to try to do both our parts while I watched from the side.

Very awkward. I didn't know if I was supposed to clap between songs or not. Five hours of 'La Paloma. One hundred and three versions of 'La Paloma'. The earliest renditions are from the 1 9th Century, the latest from Each comes with extensive liner- notes, in German and English. John Peel was delighted with the series, and gradually played every single track on his program. That's no surprise: the idea sounds utterly, unflinchingly and let's admit it appealingly daft.

But what most listeners won't expect is the beauty of these records: the way a string of 1 00 Palomas begins to change the light in the room. My saddest, hardest, dampest Scottish nights became dipped in lamplight, warm with nostalgia. There was so much reassurance in all the same-but-different. I have no doubt that Trikont is fully aware of the hypnotic effect of 'La Paloma'. Theirs was a label born out of the desire to change, move and shake people.

There was hardly anything similar like that in the German popular cultural tradition, so the movement here had to invent their own forms of expression - which Trikont then put on records". Trikont's first releases were by political singer- songwriters and rockers such as west Berlin's Ton Steine Scherben, but by the early Eighties Germany's "radical movement" was disappearing - displaced by punk and middle-age. Trikont had to "discover musical styles in the wider world which express similar attitudes".

And so for the past 20 years there have been two sides to the label. On the one hand, there are " bands and artists who are mostly German and sing for the German-speaking public" - the accordion glitch of Attwenger or the broken-hearted rock of Ich Schwitze Nie. And the other part, Bergmann says, "is the compilation series which presents different popular cultures and subcultures and tells their stories, in the way a good radio DJ - like John Peel - would do. Their compilations are breathtaking - songs plucked by experts, by obsessives, by men and women with golden ears.

There are albums of yodelling, of funeral marches, of hillbilly and klezmer and Turkish club music. The Flashbacks series collects grouped drug songs, novelty songs, gospel songs, sad songs and more from America, pre- In all of these compilations, it's not just the astute artist selection - it's how extraordinary the songs are, judged individually. Jcotland and Wales. Tickets must be booked in 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7 berths and are available now from : www.

Chris: Is it stuck? Kick: Sound engineers probably love this band. Or hate them, maybe. Frances: It's a big-sounding small record. Tons of echo. The occasional crash. Chris: It sounds likes something that has to be part of a greater whole to make sense. Kick: I like the way they start flipping out even though the music hasn't changed.

Frances: Sometimes it gets a bit wearing. Like, OK, now it's the screamy bit. Chris: I'd like to be in the pub with people like that. At 1 0pm they'd start screaming. Andthenat Chris: The production is good but the helium version ofGollum isn't really my thing. Is there a dub? Kick: It's pretty pedestrian dancefloorfare -walk don't run, if you will Frances: Yeah, but that's what people at Trash want.

Nothing too weird, like. Kick: I hate the way drugs in clubs tend toward conservatism. Like people who are mashed just want constant reassurance. Frances: Totally. They need everything to be the right amounts. BPMs, filters, everything. Kick: If stuff went too psychedelic they'd properly lose it. Kick: Sounds like a disco in an early Ken Loach film. And our heroine is sitting at the edge watching her slightly prettier friend giggling with two boys Chris: There's a strange thing going on here: I'm not sure if it's a record that sounds like it wants to be big and plush or recorded in a bin.

Frances: They started off around the same time and place as Belle And Sebastian. But it was only recently with the production of the Concretes dude that they've really got much recognition outside of Glasgow. So basically they're Swedes from Scotland. Which answers yr question, Chris. Wear rosettes, apparently. Frances: Brilliant! Kick: I like how shambolic it is.

Frances: I like that they have a brass section. More brass please! Brass could save it. Fix it, even. I only like shambolic-with-intent. Chris: I wonder if they do dance moves. At least with my beloved minimal it has some sense of propulsion or lack thereof , and you can riff on that. Kick: I like its endearing sludginess. I guess that's because the words are the point.

Frances: This is an example of Jarvis' weak points, those being: lumpy music, really obvious, supposedly female-friendly lyrics. Chris: It's a shame that we're so starved of pop personalities that we have to revive Jarvis in order for someone to say anything. Kick: He's not saying much, though, is he? What's his point? Men are bad? One particular man is bad? Frances: Men are bad apart from him.

Kick: That's what I figure, but he doesn't seem to have - ahem - inserted anything of himself into the song. He's stayed offstage. I get kind of warm hearing them namecheck each other. Frances: Warm? Kick: In my heart. Chris: Missy sounds bored. But she does have 1 2 cars. Chris: As a rapper, as a personality, I don't find her interesting beyond the UKG forum bratkid to Rocafella rags-to-riches angle. Frances: It needs to jump up and down a bit more. Didn't hate it, just the accumulation wearied me.

It's quite - oh, was gonna say droney - but now those synths. Frances: From sinister to boring. Kick: To be fair, it's different to what they made their name with - but the cynical part of me can't help but see a conversation in which this was picked as the 'unexpected' comeback single That thing wherein a popular band want to be seen as deep and cool.

As well as rich. Frances: Well, yeah. The chorus is what exposes the experimentalism as a bit of a sham. Chris: He sounds very, very serious about what he's saying. And it is nice. There you go, that's my review. Kick: I like that he has found a friend.

I bet they are playing on a tyre swing right now. It's a man with a piano. With some 'textures' beneath it. Kick: Maybe he is making the piano noise with his mouth or something. Chris: The secret art of beatpianoboxing. Imagine someone putting this on at the end of a dinnerparty Frances: Drunk people would cry.

Kick: And everyone would fuck like rabid dogs. Chris: It would be glorious! Frances: Fucking and crying at the same time? That would be horrendous. Kick: One of my friends hello Lisa! Frances: Yeah, I think we had something about that in Plan B once. Kick: It is an experience all indie types share. Frances: Is this like a charity record? What is it trying to achieve? Kick: I dunno. I don't like saying bad things about Kelis, though. Frances: No, me neither, but this is silly. Kick: It only lasts about 1 seconds, as well.

What's the point? Cajuan Raven Fine Chris: I don't really like dance music in the winter. It's my summer sport. Fucking and crying at the same time? That would be horrendous Kick: I can imagine one half of a couple putting this on while the other unpacks the shopping. Then they fuck like rabid dogs. Kick: I've actually gone numb beneath the waist. Frances: This dude is named after one of those Spanish things you hit with sticks and sweets come out.

What would happen if we hit him with sticks? Can we try? Can I do it? Chris: We're supposed to be seeing him in a small shop tomorrow. They're bribing us with lunch. I'll bring a fucking stick. And hit him. And my excuse will be, I thought he was one of those things that sweets come out of.

Kick: Eat first. Chris: It's got that Jamie T enunciation. Frances: I hate it when you can hear a singer panting. When they are clearly making no fucking effort whatsoever. Frances: What is yr winter sport? Chris: Hibernating. And listening to us fail again at cricket. Kick: I like this - it's minimal, but has a really slow pop tune running through it like a guitar solo evolving at the rate of plant growth. For me to get intoxicated by dance music I think I need something beautiful - and ideally, melancholy.

Euphoria doesn't work so well for me. Presumptuous finks. Chris: Press release predicts that lazy writers will put that in their lazy reviews. Kick: I've yet to meet the press release that can keep pace with my blistering vacuity. And they both have a terminal disease. Inside the album sleeve Kraftwerk 1 is some lovely pictures of them in leopard print shirts with thin white ties and those pointy glasses glamorous women in the Fifties used to wear.

I wonder if they rode their bicycles in this get- up? Kraftwerk's image is as absorbing as their music, the way it should be for all great artists. Chromatics - Glass Slipper Troubleman United Take the otherworldly neon-murder ofSuspiria, the disjointed narrative of some German surrealist's apocalyptic celluloid nightmare and Tim Burton's deathly colour scheme and you have one blazin' film. Chromatics would record the soundtrack. The Knife - Pass This On Live Version Brille The original Deep Cuts is pure Euro- sex-pop, but live it's an arpeggiated demon from 2, with spiderweb- like construction and monotonal android vocals blasted from a crystal citadel on the dark side of the Moon.

To be found on the rare as hell 'Take My Breath Away' seven-inch single. Yellow Swans - True Union Load A scanner measures the dimensions of your heart before the needle pumps it with darkness. Yellow Swans sound like Wolf Eyes would if they read obscure esoteric manuals instead of Swamp Tin ing comics. This tune starts their Psychic Secessions album. Coughs - Life Of Acne Load Feral guerilla no wave strike one Neubauten babies beat on metal bidons, pots and pans, strike two yelp spin rise and fall like god shattered maniacs, strike three now we're inside the burning ghost dance circle.

Best gig of the year; also check out their new album Secret Passage. Boredoms - Super Roots 7 boriginal version Very Friendly In Japan there is this giant size laundrette you can go to where they feed you mushrooms and stick you in a mammoth tumbledryerfull of long-haired musicians on a rigorous drumming decathlon. If you're a real fetishist you can pay the full whack and opt for the long spin cycle, the hardcore burn with optional Braindead gore.

When you come out this is what the remnants of your sanity puke back up at you. If you lick your lips you can taste the cherry pie. Good for days where clouds hide in a hole in the sky and rain makes applesauce. For the Divinity, who is without any beginning, shines forth in great splendour.

We cannot completely grasp God's mysteries. Temples with moss covered stones shine forth and bring wisdom to all who are open to entering. Soon to be interpreted by Anahita. Lights sing to me, with your radial symmetry. Snow is falling, the moon is calling. It is the sea and inner realms of the dream world.

It is feeling and magic and moon madness. It is the element of ecstasy and unconscious bliss, the deep enjoyment of the heart and the flow of love. Listen to the water music and the alluvion will reveal itself. Bread that is baked in a wood stove tastes divine. Stars seen from a mountain peak are brighter in the sky.

Sweedeedee " Buffy Sainte-Marie - God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot "Inherent in the practice of natural magic is the belief that all objects, animate and inanimate, have some force or spirit whose powers and energies can be tapped. Listen and the illuminations will be thine. Nature and music are beautiful in their own right. There are things that happen under the water that we can't see. Euclidian Geometry.

Each Tengu carried a magic fan made from the leaf of the yatsude tree. The fan gave the Tengu the power to fly. To be precise, I am sitting in the dank subterranean basement of Henry's Cellar Bar, leading dank subterranean basement on the small malnourished creature which is Edinburgh's music scene. Around me the air is filled with noise, a grinding teeth-chattering bile-rising wall of immersive oily noise. It is being produced by Withdrawal Method, also known as Drew Demeter, kingpin of cassette-only noise label, Since 1 I sit alone in the corner, unable to see how Drew produces his sounds, surrounded as he is by a cluster of observant tech-heads.

But it's irrelevant. What matters is the feeling of being inside a physical acoustic structure, of finding a secure epicentre in the noise which has no beginning, middle or end, just is. I feel completely at home. How did I get to the point where I find it weird to listen to 'conventionally' structured music? Why do I love this stuff? It's hard to consider noise as music. A wayward youth spent coaxing bad feelings out of myself to a soundtrack of juvenile Toytown industrial, courtesy of Ministry and Nine Inch Nails.

A minor graduation to the fizzy electro tantrums of Atari Teenage Riot and, in retrospect, their hugely silly Digital Hardcore roster. A fondness for the everlasting loops of Eno's Discreet Music and the dismal somnambulist landscapes of Bowie's Low. Increasingly, I became more interested in the actual sound of music than with any tricksy devices such as melody or harmony. There were two pivotal records for me. Sonic Youth's Goodbye 20th Century, in which Thurston and the gang drill an expressway to yr avant-garde skull by covering modernist noisemakers such as John Cage, Steve Reich and Cornelius Cardew- and the amazing live recording of John Coltrane's Olatunji Concert.

This document of Coltrane's second-last performance before his death finds the saxophonist with a six- piece band in the fiery throes of full blast free jazz expression. Frequently, the sheer annihilating din causes the sound to overload completely, before slowly bleeding back in. During the occasional quiet passage, conversation and traffic noise can be heard. The album becomes more like an impressionistic wash of religious clamour than conventional jazz. Eighteen months ago, I spent an evening spent at a concert presented by Edinburgh noise curators, Giant Tank.

Headlining Italian duo My Cat Is An Alien used lifeless guitar strings and toy guns to emit cyclical space whirrings while support from Wounded Knee and CK Dexter Haven produced an earsplitting overloaded cacophonous chunk.

The sheer physical presence of the noise was like being inside a throbbing three-dimensional mass. A Phill Niblock concert produced a similar effect, while also enabling me to know what it might feel like to be an airplane engine for 90 minutes. There's an endless amount of noise to discover. Recent finds include the whiteout womb music of Not and the thrashing black waves of Deadwood. Living in Scotland means thankful access to a thriving noise scene as well as a number of excellent underground music fests such as Instal, Subcurrents and Kill YourTimid Notion.

Much of this has an all- inclusive DIYfeel to performance and distribution, and it has been refreshing to discover how pleasant many of the performing artists are, quite unlike the rampant egocentrism which seems to come with writing conventional song structures.

It's about connection. Evans made a pair of giant cardboard scissors, and I wore her rainbow sorcerer's dress. It was a mad reunion of difficult-to- recognise old friends because of the fake blood running down theirfaces. Blevin Blectum was an orange dolphin pirate. KB So surreal. The girls are in a good shape.

Miguel brought some gear and CDs for the tour that he left in the car for us to get later. We walked outside and - damn! The trunk was unlocked BUT all of our stuff was still there and fine. This was miraculous! But we were sorry that Miguel had to fix his window. After one beer, we were completely wasted and had to go home.

Evans had special red vodka Jell-o shots. We had a couple and felt dizzy. KevyB already had her nose into the Easy Cheese! Liquid cheese stuffed into some kind of toothpaste tube. It was disgusting to the little jet-lagged frogs. The show was like a short dream, as if we were only on stage for 1 minutes. Our Californian friends are in the audience. Still jet-lagged. DATs Yes, jet-lag. I lived in San Francisco for five years, and all my old friends were totally overwhelming.

It was the worst show I've ever played, because I decided not to 'pretend' during the show- 1 thought my friends would see right through me. Instead, I spiralled into paranoia and self-doubt and then ran backstage to cry. But a few jell-o shots later and it's as if it never happened. Evans made two tooth outfits, a bristly cardboard toothbrush helmet, and a giant cardboard mouth to sit in for a mini- improvised-musical called 'Spoiled Rotten'.

Corey, the drummer, was the dentist. Instead of "gravity", we sang "cavity". Instead of saying, "Why didn't you invite us to the party," we said, "Why gingivitis to the party? Eggs Florentine and cherry cookies. This was delicious.

Wobbly brought CDs to listen to in the car! Later that night, we played in Sacramento. This was a party! DATs I was warned before the show to play 'dance music'. So Evans and I danced for the entire set in tooth costumes, in hopes that that's what it would appear to be. Afterwards, we were like, "Sheesh, Sacramento is weird. Everyone dresses up like they're going to prom. I was speeding, but only eight miles over the limit.

When the officer asked Vincent for some 'identification. He thought the cop asked, "So you went on vacation? KB The weather was terrible in Portland. The backstage was flooded. The Holocene is nice, the promoter read our hospitality rider and there was good whisky backstage! The audience was very excited; they bought tons of merch.

Vincent had a big panic crisis at the end of the DAT show, he freaked out, said that the monitor was too loud and that he lost the hearing in his left ear. DATs The hearing loss was later credited to the stress of being pulled over by the police. KB 8 November, Olympia The venue was packed, Cindy Scream Club told us a story about the owner of the place who's disliked by the locals because he paints his houses black. They think that he is some kind of Satanist.

It was raining the whole time, so we rented movies and ordered food: Slithers and Thai noodles. The soundcheck turns wrong. The venue sound guy has his own way to plug stuff in and is arguing with another sound guy hired for the gig, so Vincent does the sound himself. After dinner, it's completely packed. There is a room dedicated to smokers: a smoky aquarium.

Kevin is playing a great show with weird sound. When we started, the sound guy had changed all of Vincent's settings. We appreciated having days off at the hotels: swimming pool, hot tub, pool game. We won't have many days off from now on. On the cover with lot of pictures! Good show at the Empty Bottle! Because of the stage-jumping, our mixing desk fell down.

The three of us saw it at the same time and jumped on it before it reached the floor. The sound stopped and then we heard a "Wow! Someone said that it was a good trick for the show! The sweaty Zoobizarre was packed and people were singing along to all the songs! From the stage, there was a human wave of people dancing - some of them had to fight hard to stop from falling on the stage. After the show we got stoned, freezing in the backyard. Unfortunately, the sound was cutting out so we had to stop playing after four tracks.

Everyone was disappointed. We went home to watch Suspiria. DATs 23 November, Brooklyn We were worried because the weather was very bad and it was Thanksgiving; everyone would have a heavy family dinner. But people were jumping and screaming all set long! Evans was there and Rob, Kristin [Kevin]'s brother. They're good dancers and everyone was following them.

Evans and Julie were in teeth costumes and tried to dental- floss me, while I was just trying to sing a song. The sound was shit, but it was still punchy enough to cut through the distortion. The family vibe was in full celebration mode.

There's a grand piano! My brother played short sets between all the other sets. He's still goofy. Ching Chong Song played. Andre was either my psychologist or my mother and Julie and I did the Masturbation Olympics. BUT I drank so much before the show, that I don't remember any of it, which is a damn shame. Apparently there was full frontal nudity, it went on and on and Julie won, which makes sense. She's very talented and can queef on command. One of my favourite shows ever, even though I don't remember it.

That shit really works! Gaetan and I finished the gift loaf of banana space-cake. It works too. Kevin took the wheel for the last three hours to her grandparents' house. We took a few beers and went out on the boat snorkelling! Really like vacation! It's full of crap, tourist shops and restaurants.

The stage was set up in the courtyard, under the moonlight, Dino Filipe opened for us. His show was really good. He's a funny hyperactive excited stressed out party guy. During our set, the audience sang along and danced frenetically. Whatcha gonna do? I loved the show, butldon'tthinkthe DATs were as excited about the and-up age group as I was.

Her name is Vanessa Harris, and she plays guitar in six-piece noiseniks Coughs. The setting is Chicago's Logan Square Auditorium. Coughs are supporting a newly reformed version of The Slits, and the juxtaposition is comical. Original Slits members Ari Up and Tessa Politt are so desperate to regain the vibrancy of their youth that they're willing to ruin everything that made them interesting in the first place.

Coughs, of course, upstage them. I meet with Coughs the following Sunday at Mr City, the warehouse space where bassist Carrie Vinarsky lives, and where Coughs practise. The area surrounding it is all desolate industrial outlets and vast office spaces, but inside, Mr City is cosy, furnished with enormous sofas and a coal furnace.

As well as a living space, it also functions as an artists' workshop and a venue for live music. Outside Chicago, Coughs were just starting to generate a buzz, as the band found out when they toured Europe recently: "I had no idea that people actually knew who we were over there, " says Seth Sher, one of the band's two drummers.

To kids in the city, however, Coughs were a local institution. Especially bands like Lozenge, who had this huge double-drummer set up and people playing all these weird instruments but they were still making heavy rock music. That made me realise that you don't have to have a normal drumkit, two guitarists and a bass player; you can just make music with a bunch ofweirdjunk.

Their second album, Secret Passage, released on Load earlier this year, is a howling maelstrom of repetitive screaming, primitive saxophone, and prowling drum beats, but it has more of a structure than most outsider noise. Like a lot of other Load artists see Lightning Bolt, The Locust Coughs' live energy is difficult to transpose onto record, but Secret Passage is as close as they'll ever get.

It would have been really hard to record without looking at one another. Like, there's this song where we know to change to the next thing because Seth jumps up and down. The rumours that Coughs were splitting up had been circulating for a while, but people had stopped taking them seriously. Every show, it seemed, was their last. This time, however, the rumours happen to be true. Coughs are reluctant to talk about it. I want to travel, and not live in Chicago.

I do regret it a little, because obviously a lot of people are like, 'You guys are really successful, why would you split up? Their favourite colours are silver, pink and black. Their endless axe jams sound like a neon citadel befouling a forest full of goblins. Whipcrack beats sound like a showdown in the next street while the bass attempts the Heimlich manoeuvre on itself.

Not wanting to cause a ruck, but it should be known that we quite often listen to dubstep in the Plan B office 'cause it's really good for getting quietly productive to. Dude also has own blog, which is cute, bass-clef. Expect fun stuff from this San Francisco trio when their Peanut Buttter Wolf-helmed debut album finally hits the block this year. Uniforms consist of all-black and skull masks, lyrics are indecipherable but probably scornful of yr lifestyle.

Check the link, but be aware that if you do betray a liking for their adrenaline- weeping company you're officially a sociopath. Hide the knives. From yrself. And no. We don't mean in other people, www. Check out 'Tizia' and 'Full Pool': bittersweet but blissful minimal pastorale, the combination of warm Jacuzzi bass, slivers of disco strings, wistful high-end and funk-hinting rhythms is irresistible.

Since then, he's gone from strength to strength with a sequence of astonishingly wide-ranging inches: brooding minimalism on 'Arquipelago', sharp-edged tech on 'Sozinho', swooning microgoth on 'Like You', sinister techno on 'The Rising Evil'. An album is due next year; commence salivating. Not Trickski, that's for sure: their last two releases on Sonar Kollektiv, 's 'Sweat' and this year's incredible The Bat EP, have been monolithic slabs of dark, pounding, no- messing techno.

It's all the more powerful for the way in which its creators wear their Carl Craig influence on their sleeves even covering his classic 'At Les' on the latter. Put your hands up, indeed; they love this city, www. Signed to Arista at 1 6 years old, and with an eponymous debut already out in the US, Paula DeAnda's delightful pop-r'n'b confections are reminiscent of early Christina Milian: cute, sassy and aimed squarely at pleasing your sweet tooth.

Songs splice unwell instruments and corrupt files, beats like joints bent backwards, slow builds and pained fades for woozy dirges that feel like the calm before the exorcist. AT are allegedly the brainchild of Miklos 'The Accountant' Kemecs who, "likes to express his frustration with office life and contemporary sexual politics by mixing trashy jazz guitar leads with twisted electronic hard-rock jungle-bebop breakbeats and any vocals he can rope in his mad circle of friends to contribute.

They want conviction, opinion, individuality, 'Let's write a song about stuff we actually like! But you don't get that much anymore. It's just, 'How po-faced can I look? We're in London, discernible from drummer Lewis' excellent imitations of various borough-based accents; specifically, in a cream box at The Forum preparing for some weird Rizla- sponsored affair in support of CSS. Last week, they took their tumbling toy melodies and boy-girl sparring to a house in Coventry with fairylights and a jazz piano: here's a band able to swap huge theatres with the Brazilian buzz mob for three quid gigs, lose a member, then rework odd quartet- friendly tracks.

Yes Leesey, I'm still playing the same old shit But we're almost a new band. Which is clearly not my forte. On the first, we were more. This album's a bit darker. More open. We were lazy little shits. Nothing like a rancorous confrontation of loss set against shouty jumps of abandon to plague yer body. Their ridiculous tour stories include playing a community centre booked by a 1 3-year-old where, "There were kids selling Smarties at a counter, like a tuck shop" his parents laid on a buffet ; and urinating on people, in Germany - "not in a sexy way" -but we shan't delve, yeah?

Reasons why you should cut straight to the 'giddily love' part and not bother with 'firstly liked'? All of the above. I was in the front passenger seat, flicking drunkenly through the pirate radio stations. I stopped at a station called Trauma FM: "It's trauma radio, lads!!! When I woke up, it was on the floor of the motorway. Someone had died in the accident. I was on a critical ward for 24 hours, attached to one of them breathing machines and hooked up to a self- administrating Morphine machine my only respite.

I thought, That's it, I'm dead. I had a piss bag fitted and kept setting an alarm off as I stopped breathing - and the nurse would come and wake me up whenever I managed to get five minutes. It was, hands down, the worst experience of my life. They gave me so many drugs that I couldn't even feel my body. Two days later, with the help of several grams of morphine, I went and did a sell-out show in Sheffield and only fell over once.

I was still in shock, I guess. How would you describe the Radioclit sound? Etienne: "It started with a big love for bass music, 'World music is the new pop music' eurodance and Dirty South hip hop. Sampling a lot of traditional Asian music, Moroccan stuff, traditional southern African stuff, pow-wow music.

We're having a lot of fun with that. Johan: "We keep it pretty simple. Mac computers, Ableton, ProTools, softsynths, a shitload of samples, loads of hitting things with other things in the studio Etienne: "Ghettopop is the easiest way to describe our music as a sound system and as a production team. We're heavily influenced by music coming out of rough places from all over the planet, whether it's Atlanta or Rio or Luanda or Paris - and pop music at the moment is as well.

We're trying to illustrate the connections between those worlds. World music is the new pop music -the hybridisation of Western pop and the other continents is where it's at. How d'you feel about that scene at the moment? Etienne: "All the artists we worked with - Ears, Trim, Ruff Sqwad - have brought us a lot, musically and on a human level. Everybody seem to think grime is dead right now, but we still think the vibe of that scene is incredible.

We don't really care if those artists get to have hits in UK or elsewhere, all we're excited about is that they keep their originality, rawness, freshness. We truly love those kids. What did you find? Any particular artists we should be looking out for?

Johan: "It's weird. In Lisbon, everyone knows kuduro, but a lot of them don't know it as the Angolan rough ghetto music. There was a commercial 'kuduro' hit in Portugal a few years ago and I think it gave a lot of people the wrong impression.

But Buraka Som Sistema [of internet hit 'Yah! We haven't been to Angola, so I can't really talk about it. I think Buraka are getting more attention than the original artists because Angola is still pretty unexplored. Johan: "We like clubs. Loud music in clubs. Loud bass in the club. At home. They were supposed to be perky synth-popping kids like you'd imagine bopping around in the background of TOTP 2.

Most of their songs were upbeat Fifties and Sixties covers Elvis! The Kinks! Silicon Teens were not sunny as much as Sunny Delight. Not saccharine as much as aspartame fizz burning your nostrils. Silicon Teens were everything every glossy magazine advert since the dawn of time has ever promised.

They didn't — couldn't- exist outside of Daniel Miller's paranoid imagination, and no wonder. The album's called Music For Parties, but you can't dance to it unless you're lobotomised. It's deliberately too slow, or too fast, or too boring when those chord sequencers get started.

If there was ever anything rebellious or sexy about the songs the Silicon Teens cover, it's been sucked out. Chuck Berry could perv all over the tight dresses and lipstick of 'Sweet Little Sixteen', but Fad Gadget sings the Silicon Teens version as if the song's subject is as erotic as a spreadsheet.

His voice hits like a shopping malltannoy, and you can hear the forced smile. It's a weary industrialised cheeriness that anyone who's temped or worked retail will know and hate. The concept is simple: Prom night on the Titanic! As it's going down! And nobody notices!

Everyone's waggling their butts like they're doing the Time Warp, and they're spraying champagne all over the place. It's not so much, 'We're living in an apocalyptic shithole' or even, 'The world is collapsing, so let's have fun while we can', but a complete disconnect from anything but surface, surface, surface until it all goes bang.

Or whimper. Or whatever, because who cares? Not Silicon Teens. I love this stuff because it's terrifying. It's held up better than any Cold War minor key bleak-out. There's a kind of kitschy glamour to dancing in the radioactive rubble with the cockroaches and fighting the one-two punch of Reagan-Thatcher.

Nuclear winter, mutants with skin melting off, cannibalism in the fallout shelter You can't dance to it unless you're lobotomised - not how the end will come now, but a really good theme for a costume party. See, the genius of Silicon Teens is deep breath here that their over-the-top unreality saves them from the way ironic appropriation neutralises every real crisis by turning it into a punchline.

Never mind the covers, how are we supposed to take the ST originals, songs about how much fun it is to watch wars on TV because then your parents quit bitching at you to do stuff? No one, however hipsterised, however medicated, ca n just not care this much. Music for parties? It's impossible to be alive and celebrate bloodless, endless cycles of shopping and ironic trend-recycling and sweet sweet oblivion until the end, when the lights go out for the last time. This is no novelty record.

It's a protest record, and it's great. The melodies are gorgeous: the ache of a familiar voice, the merest silhouette of echoed piano and an occasional drum beat. The mood is solemn, but joyous: like listening into an intensely private rhapsody. You imagine snow: snow, piled in drifts six feet high alongside Detroit kerbsides; you imagine woods: bare feet running freely through bracken and past dragonfly-infested pools; you think of cigarette smok"' ' funereal dancing and a youunui uidbb bCLuun iiebiiniy out these bare bones of songs.

But you don't want any of that; not really. These songs are quite, quite special as they are. I've been fascinated by trees because they're so old and stationary, and yet they continually change. I built treehouses at college. There are a lot of treehouses in Sweden. I'd heard a rumour that Victoria had parted company with The Concretes - the incredible Swedish band she'd helped start in 1 as an all-female trio - but I didn't want to listen too close, lest I grow too upset.

The Concretes have been so magical to me these past years. But this - Taken By Trees, the first glimmering of Victoria's solo work - this is so wonderful. I could listen to it on repeat for a week without sleeping and still not grow tired, swept away by its aching, wonderful loneliness. I didn't think I'd try any more music after The Concretes. It was a year ago I told the band I was leaving - 1 don't enjoy playing live any more.

I think I questioned too much and that was very tiring for the band, why we'd play somewhere and how the stage was made up. I'd rather be home and write songs and then pick venues that are special. We'd started to lose our playfulness. It had become too much of a business. As any music lover could tell you, it was the vulnerable Mo Tucker side of The Velvet Underground that was the most fascinating.

I wanted to have flute and strings on one song, but was worried that would overdo it. Summer On closer inspection, I note that the CD features the voice of Thames TV continuity announcer Philip Elsmore, whose rich, comforting tones and crumpled, friendly face I had forgotten until this very moment. I scan the sleevenotes, a mossy manifesto conjuring images of Britain succumbing to corvidae while 'the amplified sound of dead air' leaks from melted transistor radios.

I return it to the shop, mildly aggrieved. But something isn't right. In spite of myself, I'm still breathing Dead Air. I buy it again, and spend the rest of the summer, autumn and winter travelling up and down the Silverlink line, binding the sound in my headphones to the concrete and pebbledash and undead, dreamless sky. Admiral Greyscale and Baron Mordant are the shadow-hosts to Mordant Music, a constantly sporing subcultural entity which, as well as releasing the insidiously essential Dead Air, has spat out 'It's a beast that feeds on itself in perpetuity' collaborative emissions with dubstep artist Shackleton notably 's now-classic 'Stalker' seven-inch and comedian Simon Munnery the pornographic 'View Mastur' toy.

I contacted the pair for a furtive electronic interview. Why 'Mordant'? Does the aesthetic dictate the music or vice versa? Admiral Greyscale: " I think the deathly aesthetic unquestionably fuels the art. It's a beast that feeds on itself in perpetuity. Baron Mordant: "We're right down to the marrow now in terms of yield and an exciting final finality is being viscerally heralded from all quarters, whether it be doom, dubstep, noise, folk or our own brand of death-throw archiving.

It is certainly an overall period of mourning and a vast shedding of sonic skin. The glee club has finally departed and a realistic social interaction, imbued with a stark musical framework, has begun to infiltrate everyday lives. Pound for pound, the overall salvation factor is actually in rude health. BM: "A wonderful combination of ecstacy and reticence.

BM: "More an overall cultural lineage that music is the host to Chris Morris and Leerdammerareas influential as Aphex Twin. The lineage is cosmic and not confined to Broadstairs. Leonard Rossiter is also a talisman. Is there a kind of patriotic pride to MM? BM: "Blighted by shortsightedness more like. As cultures clash and dovetail, with only a handful of mavericks to applaud, I'm firmly opposed to patriotism.

It's the vast unknown that I pledge allegiance to. I'm fed up of the forecourts. AG: "We fumble in the wake of Mo' Wax, 4AD, Factory and all those labels and artists for whom a visual identity is as fundamental as the sonic output. We're also both collectors by nature, to differing degrees. We approach the making of everything with an eye on whether or not we'd treasure the item ourselves.

BM: "It distilled itself from a lifetime of influences somehow. There were several phases of aligned creativity and it was certainly not just tossed off, however despite the convoluted processes both creatively and socially Dead Air can be looked upon as a veritable 'chicken in a bastard' Only the listener can decide to delve deeper or treat it as scree.

BM: "Dubstep is somewhere in the MM tea-leaves - albeit a peripheral cuppa. Sam Shackleton is a friend who happened to be making music in that vein. MM released 'Stalker' which defies the dubstep tag in my book. Fire from all cylinders here with a track listing so hot, it will melt your CD player into the carpet.

Maximum jungle, no fillers unless you're maybe counting 'Top Gun' and a certified must have in your collection. Previously covered on Dubplate Created in here , this brilliant double CD contains every Formation Records hit you could possibly want in Featuring the excellent 'Lighter' remix yes, another one! CD 2 features some great DJ mixes which are below. DJ SS. DJ Ratty. If you can, pick them all up as every one of these compilations has multiple smashers.

The ' Best of Jungle 95 ' series is also work checking out. The Back to Basics collaboration was in full force way back in and this 10 tracker provides a ton of evidence as to why Swoosh were both criminally overlooked. The CD also came with a wicked mix, well worth a listen. Check the Top 5 Swoosh article out if you liked this mix. One of the only places you are going to be able to pick up Paul's Z's 'Yeah' digitally plus a ton of hard step that was popular at the time.

Quite a mixed bag this one so if you're after packing out your collection with some undercover hits, this is the one to go for. Top tip - check the '16 Track Ting' remix.. An added bonus this Andy C mix is perfect for reminiscing about the good old times, murky basements and the smell of burning crack in the air.

Fancy something a little further back in time? Check the Desert Storm article. Big shout to Tobie Scopes! The Micky Finn DJ mix features the following tracks:. A superb snapshot of underground jungle at the time with plenty of exclusive tracks including a great VIP of 'Crackman'. An essential purchase.

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