(Print by Tauba Auerbach first admired at But does it Float)

Hours of Worship’s remix of Alexandre Chatelard’s Reconstitution is music for the closing credits of the history of the universe, after entropy and empathy have walked under the portico of the final conflagration hand in hand, as matter collapses into itself all around them like a film set taken apart by the sub-atomic grapple, bound to be recycled at some point into the future (or the past, or in a parallel nascent dimension, once you start messing with the basic blocks of cosmology you can end up in some rather unexpected places).

There should be silence now, but instead you are hit by an echo of all that happened before, a painfully beautiful melody full of hope soars wrapped in gauze of reverb over which detonate supernova fireworks of pyrotechnic riffarama, it expands and contracts in a zero-G space between fluctuating masses, the soul-strobe of a MBV drone, the warm question mark of a kosmische chime, the fuzzy utopia of Fuck Button’s epic expeditions bereft of the turbocharged weaponry.

And then it’s over, forces of future life regrouping in the apparent void, and silence, before the music begins again.

Alexandre Chathelard- Reconstitution (Hours of Worship Remix)

20jazzfunkgreats has had a hell of a difficult time deciding which of the fantastic 26 songs included in La Station Radar’s first compilation was going to be featured here, as an irresistible nudge for you to go ahead and get the whole thing, because seriously, it is one not to be missed.

Not only is it full of cool bands (Cough Cool, Ela Orleans, Dunes, Jeans Wilder, Ancient Crux, Terror Bird, Dead Gaze or Pink Priest to name but a few), but also excellently sequenced so that it plays like a seamless ramble down the avenues of all that’s lovingly crafted and exciting at its own- usually leisurely, portentous- pace, parallel and oblivious to the insistent pressures of fashion dash and fad. It is so good it led us to ask Jerome at the label to put together an exclusive mixtape for us, watch this space.

But we had to choose…so we decided to go for a band that has so far not been featured here, Norse Horse. Their track shoodikids is a wobbly wonder with the scent of summer, a Hawaiian Country Birth Ballad that shines intermittent- and the more alluring for it- like the phantasmagoria of a distant bonfire in a utopian beach, the syrupy vibes remind us of exotica maestro Martin Denny, albeit broken by the jangly guitar melody lost in its lazy singalong spiral, a breezy codeine reminiscence of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s fiery banjo showmanship.

One for the sun, one for the sun.

Norse Horse- Shooodikids

This kid Lips & Ribs has designed the logical structure of a video game where you play haemoglobin molecules being pumped by Mario’s cholesterol-choked heart as the chemical reactions associated to rapturous gestaltic all-engulfing feelings of LOVE lay waste to his nervous system, or a renderised version of the Phantom of the Paradise playing a power ballad inside the icy reticles of the ENCOM mainframe, 2TB worth of pixelated lighters burning in the chromed darkness are bound to give your hardware a red ring of death, but it’s ok, it’s real sweet.

Lips and Ribs- Orgy at the Fallout Shelter

This kid Deathsquad has jacked the network of the alt.SETI program corrupting the message it sends into the voids of space from a list of all our cultural achievements into a challenge for a hardcore-level AD&D tournament playing the Electroma campaign, Aliens land in the mesas of the desert not because we are enlightened, but because we rumble epic, space is the bass festival is on, everyone is on acid and the Lone Gunmen are DJing.

Deathsquad- Cruise Sex Ship (demo)

This kids Hours of Worship infiltrate the catacombs of a secret society of name unknown and unpronounceable even if you found it out and if you did then they’d have to kill you, at the bottom of the primeval gutter they stumble upon masqueraded figures dancing to some vicious hybrid of filtered euro-techno clamours and spaced out bleeping, this inspires them to make some musics which when unleashed upon the world create fiery backlash from Christians frothing about how mixing Goblin and Green Velvet is sinful, scenes of gnarly Blade-style disco bloodshed ensue and everyone is purified.

Hours of Worship-She’s in My Pulse

TINGS

If you are in London on Friday go to this and say hi to Alexis from us.

THEN THIS SATURDAY

And we’ll be in Brighton later cos we is omniscient.

And on the 15th (tix here)