Tuesday, July 24, 2007  3:03 pm 

Istambul Rock Terror Disco Dub Club reprise

Do you remember the Istambul Rock Terror Disco Dub Club? Yeah, it’s this place where all your momma’s nightmares become wishes fulfilled. There are many ways to get here, secret passages blink luscious in the darkness of the night if you look in the right place, a puddle of dirty water outside the place that was Paradise Garage in NYC, a particularly pink italian sunset waking up all sexy & lovved up by the Adriatic sea, read the Invisibles following the secret frame-path specified by the Liber Zatarae and you are so there. We go from time to time, it’s fun, sometimes too much fun, it changes the colour of your skin and darkens the tone of your aura a couple of shades to say the least, trips there not improving our CV re: inevitable test at the Gates of Heaven but then we plan to keep souls tightly attached to our rotting bodies when we gently shuffle off this mortal coil, and walk the lands as gamboling zombies bringing you the most pungent whiffs off the disco charnelhouse.

C ya there kids!

One of my fave things about the whole kosmische italo disco risorgimento ting is that, at their best, the tunes therein contained sound like the soundtrack for freaky lifestyle choices rather appealing to unfortunate souls raised on 80s B-series culture, say, what if instead of doing a degree on graphic design, getting a job on a record shop, marrying and breeding or whatevs, you had decided to become a soul rent boy for jet-setting satanic cults?

Ilya Santana- Quasar

Or perhaps the pilot of a near-orbit love hotel which provides a zero-G ‘erotic experience’ for the masses?

In Flagranti- Bipolar

It’s all subtle suggestive stuff, very different from the kind of dance music crowds get wasted to these days (hello, tacky lego monstruosities put together by lazies with short attention spans and thick fingers, hum actually that sounds quite cool), this is more like music cooking, or, yeah, its very robotic but the programmer went crazy with the black pepper in the behavioural recipe, everytime we start salivating a Pavlovian psychologist rings a cowbell.

There we go again, anyhow, we wholeheartedly recommend the acquisition of Ilya Santana’s spaced out love oriental boogie ‘Quasar’ (with a murderous percussive mix by Pete Herbert on the flip), and In Flagranti’s Intergalactic Bubblegum, which countains that synth teardrop in the shape of a tune ‘Bipolar’ we’re posting today, we listened to it first at Lindstrom and Prins Thomas’ sweet Essential mix. Luv Luv.

Who would have told you that gold-plated limousine riding neo-R&B diva Cassie was going to be doing her strut over what sounds like a Timbaland remix of Chromatics? Every beat, glitch and synth sigh in this tune constitutes one step avast into the shadows of the city which eventually shall bring you to these halls of mystery, mere antechambers to this club there where the golem bouncers don’t check ids but the shine in punters’ eyes.

Cassie- Me and You (Instrumental)

And let us end with a glimpse of one of this club’s regulars, Betty Botox or the hottest gal ever to make a mess of herself in a dancefloor that has seen it all, according to some reports we’ve heard she’s ‘pretty much retired from the music business and is now a new age relaxation therapy teacher at peterhead prison near aberdeen’, here’s a little something she ‘put together using a couple of old, long forgotten 1990 new york tracks that she now uses to placate axe murderers, or more specifically, axe murderers who are fans of close encounters of the third kind’.

Betty Botox- Cosmic Orgasm

But what can we add to that, this sounds like a spaceship descending upon us from the dark abyss of the space beyond, a ramp unfolds and the fierce eyes of the Goddess Khali stare at us insect-like beings for only a second before her purple lips form a word, DANCE, and her arms star swirling.

This happened last week btw, check out our flickr account for some photos, such capers!

Thanks to Dann for making us think of Atari Artwork.

labels >> cosmic rnb, italo, mystery movie club