So we were in Cuba, in a tiny town called Floro Perez, and we cam upon the village square, pumping out some sort of state-sanctioned cuban crunk-hall and like two tourist fucks we start handing out toothpaste, candy, and t-shirts to the kids trying to be all You Shall Know Our Velocity and shit.

Stopped to ask for directions. The policia didn’t like us. Talk about a roving gang of bravos man. Turns out one of the T-shirts was a parody of an American Flag, a parody they didn’t quite pick up. And me no habla espanol man, me mui muey mooey muiy CONTRA CONTRA americano! ANTI!!!

4 hours later El Bajo shows up in his perfect panama linen suit to bail us out of jail. We were all like, ‘naw dude. Its all good. We were just chilling with El Minestero Interior. What a fucking beautiful night in Cuba-town. And these mustachios aren’t so bad anyways.’ But then he gave us one of those looks, you know ‘the look’. And we hopped on out scooter and drove into the firefly-lit, tobacco smoke scented chocolate coffee banana country road with El Perros running out in front of us and kids on bicycles trying to race us, and dude with his burro on the side of the road just winked at us and its all good.

Back to the tired parade of flesh that is the Grand Turquesa Resort.

Turns out it was Logans Run. We won.

Because Sean Orr rules.

We don’t give a fuck about this winter backlash, in our hearts the latin sun shines strong & true.

Nick Chacona makes minimal disco for dudes in white suits and we love his sexy bones for that, you’re going to run and buy his ‘A Cambria Heights Affair’ now because it contains another classic unclassic 2007 disco epic to die for (and with), just check it out, ever wondered what it would be like to hang out with Villalobos, Santana and Sonny Crocket in Miami Beach while the sun sets in slo-mo, the barbecue fire cracks and pops like a merry feline, and God smiles down on you you lucky demon? What if I said Arthur Russell shows up halfway through to put some motherfucking bass en las brasas, ey, you would be so buying it you’re not even in this page anymore, hey, come back man. Good times.

Que si que bueno, gracias Nick.

Nick Chacona- A Cambria Heights Affair

And if there’s a song that has to be listened as the sun kisses the horizon night night baby, every colour fuses into orange and the neon lights blink blink open, the city wakes up in an introspective mood to stare at its navel, nevermind it’s a gutter, sending a message of love to the lonely astronauts in their shiny satellites orbiting in the cold voids of space, then this is it, Frankie Knuckles’ is the real deal.

Testarossa accessorising to drive this song around is optional, highly recommended, you know it’s worth it broder.

Frankie Knuckles and Jamie Principle- Your Love

Pastel coloured soul melting like vanilla ice cream in the heat of the night, only a few renegade stalwarts like Johnny Jewel, Adam Miller or Daniel Wang manage to make the synths burn so slooooow these days, this is one of the best songs ever and we encourage you to have your heart broken to it, it will be worth it, hiding bitter tears of love with ray ban turtleshells is totally the look of this summer.

Cruise smooth, and feel it.