Thursday, June 7, 2007  1:44 am 

Istambul Rock Terror Disco Dub Club pt. 1

We’d like all our clubs to be like the Matrix as depicted in Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas meets the beginning of Blade meets the beginning of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, smoke, mirrors and adventures in the toilettes (not necessarily licking LSD of hippies’ corduroy sleeves, perhaps fighting demons invoked by nazi satanists who’ve just sacrificed all Big Brother participants at a crammed black mass inside one of the dingey cubicles, redecorating the place Trouble every day style but for a good cause? ideas of that ilk slide from our rotten brains like dandruff down the silver sideburns of a dart player in the smokey pub down the road ALL THE TIME).

We would advance mysterious through subsequent layers of sonic arabesque leaving a shadow of pixie dust in our wake, wondering about whether Alister Crowley was DJing tonight, or maybe it’s John Dee, or perhaps the remains of Rasputin as recovered by fanatic cultists off the freezing waters of River Neva.

They’d play top class stuff wouldn’t they?

Contrary to the recent trend towards totally useless edits aimed at extending the shelf-life of zeitgeisty hits du jour/ self-promotion, Dirty Sound System aim for tasty obscurity, and blow its head off rvng of the nrds/beyond the wizards’ sleeve style, which is where it’s at. I don’t know a single song they’re dealing with in their Dirty Space Disco comp out on Tigersushi, and I feel wrong for it: they come across like the kind of Obsessive Compulsive crate digger/record collectors we tend to be in awe of, you know, like Cosmo Vitelli when we went over to Paris last time, ‘have you heard this weird guy who released this synth work out recorded live on TV in ninetyseventysomething?’ ‘No, but I think I should’.

Thanks, if it wasn’t for people like these we’d be so much closer to blowing our brains off with a 44 caliber silver bullet (just in case).

So it’s all weird off kilter synth cosmic disco soul which creeps slow like cartoon orange flame motes marching down the woodwork through the soles of your shoes charring your skin infiltrating your bloodstream and climbing up straight for the heart which burns into a cloud of smoke that envelopes the brain with nimble love fingers, massaging all the pleasure centres sensuously, it seems a few people in the higher spheres get their kicks off suffocation don’t they? The same principle applies here, just check out their edit of Odyssey’s sublime ‘Who’…

Odyssey- Who (Dirty Soundsystem edit)

Talking about crate diggers, I don’t think that many can beat that classy gentleman Andy Votel, who has been delighting us (and doing a genuine public service) for a while with his Finder Keepers label, each of its releases is a lovingly put together and presented musical gem recovered from the unforgiving claws of time by someone who cares, we cannot but kneel at his brogued feet in utmost respect and adoration.

Which brings us to Selda Bagcan, who stepped into Lorrita’s lounge during a very interesting conversation with that lovely chap Adam Diddy Wah with the poise of the Soul Princess of the Turkish people she is, to call this music beautiful and gut-wrenching is to do a disservice both to the music and words, if we could describe it the way it deserves then we would be artists. Regretfully we’re just hacks, but hacks who love.

Selda- Meydan Sizindir

Eastern psyche beats its naked fists against the doors of the powerful smearing them with blood, the walls of opression are shaken by the might of a voice, you don’t need to understand to understand, just do yourself a favour and get the record, it might well be the best thing you’ll hear this year.

Then something harder, but still oh so warm for the dancefloor: Certified good guy Sam Deven Miles makes his super-production debut through dope alter ego Dusty Cabinets in Cologne’s Kickboxer label with a sweet slice of vinyl which brings together the German-engineered classy gravitas of Kompakt/Playhouse minimalist stalwarts such as Michael Mayer or Isolee and that genuinely British eccentricity one can find in the BBC radiophonic workshop pixie infiltrated soundtracks of vintage children documentaries from back in the days, that good natured acid trombone conversation of the breakdown is one of the loveliest moments of electronica I have heard for a while, you should go and buy the real thing here now.

Dusty Cabinets- She Forgot her Banner

***

And let us close with the sort of soundtrack Istambul Rock Terror Disco Dub Club aural resident Hugo Theseus Capablanca would play on a midsummer night, dinosaur echoes in Bahnhof Zoo he says, we just gasp, how beautiful.

Theseus Capablanca- Sommernachtstraum mix

Tracklist:

Kraftwerk - Uranium
David Bowie - Moss Garden
Moondog - Bumbo
Silver Apples - Lovefingers
Yellow Magic Orchestra - Technopolis
The Flirts - Passion
Dinosaur L - Clean On Your Bean #1
Sexual Harrasment - Exercise Your Ass Off
Konk - Love Attack
Dillinger - Cocaine In My Brain
Flying Lizards - Summertime Blues
Richard Hell & The Voidoids - Another World

Early weekend warning:

Friday

Go to Lilo Feast at the Penthouse, last one ever. Razorblades. Noose. Mad styles.

After,

It Came from the Sea at Komedia, pre-summer bash, future hits & dancing in the dark.

Saturday:

Where to Now post punk oddballs & pre-apocalyptic funk, smoking for the last time, will keep burning.

Also…this Friday at the Hope you can go and check out Christ. Now really, our homey Childlike is putting this on and he’s a good ‘un.

labels >> Cosmic, dusty gold, mystery movie club