Wednesday, July 2, 2008  12:01 am 

The arrival of the summer pt. 3

With a hefty bag of peyote in their possession, a hysterical horse, and a shamanic drummer in tow, CocoRosie rode in to town on neon unicorns with one of the summer jams of last year, managing to destroy only the best parties with their rainbow coloured, animalistic B-Girl banger of a tune. Not long after they arrived to summon all spirits to the dance floor, the Cassidy sisters packed up their box of broken toys and retreated to a cave by the sea where they whiled away their winter days immersing themselves in the righteous sounds of R. Kelly and SWV, tinkering with some magic music boxes, and experimenting with Snoop‘s talkbox.

CocoRosie - God Has a Voice, She Speaks Through Me
(Removed by Request)

No sooner did they feel the sun return, they emerged to bestow upon the world another summer jam that’s all kinds of goodness. Synths sigh back and forth at one another, Balearic guitar lines weave in and out of an unrelenting clap track, and Bianca trills away as if she’s “Believe” era Cher, had Cher ever spent a decade lost deep within a vast woodland. Somewhere in the world, beneath the lights of the Aurora Borealis this is playing on a loop at the most blissed out block party to ever hit a glacier.

Remember that really, really annoying song The Cha Cha Slide? The one that in the fearful minds of those who never venture to the gym soundtracks every torturous aerobics workout ever, wherein some guy basically updates the okie cokey tune over a limp-ass 90s house beat, and implores everyone to move their legs in and out, and clap, and slide around, and basically do all kinds of retarded crap? Well DJ Chip, one of the kings of Chicago juke remembers, and he’s done a wonderful thing and turned that “song” in to a sublimely ominous piece of voodoo trance nastiness that re-imagines the novelty dance for a time when all Hell has broken loose, and people have been forced to live in the dark passages that lie beneath the cities they once owned.

DJ Chip - Chicago Juke Slide

Chip’s voice, riding synth tones that sound like a futuristic warning siren alerting all of some creeping, impending danger, mysteriously echoes forth from all directions out of the blackness that drowns everything, intimidating all who hear it in to sweaty submission. The Percolator never sounded so brilliantly doom laden. Expect a chopped and screwed death disco rethink of Crazy Frog to emerge at some point in the future.

labels >> cocorosie, dj chip