• Venetian Snares - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    Reviewed by Rizz (circus of fools)

    <b> Venetian Snares </b> - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    Although I wish I was, I'm not an expert on classical music. I know it's out there waiting for me and once I get in I probably won't be back for a very, very long time. But there's so much good music already out there. I can't afford to drown in the classical swamps just yet. I'll regret it but whatever, first things first. What I do appreciate is that some musicians pick out the very best parts that make classical music so appealing to me and involve them in their
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  • Venetian Snares - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    Reviewed by filmore mescalito holmes (tinymixtapes.com)

    <b> Venetian Snares </b> - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    Aaron Funk, most commonly referred to as Venetian Snares, has made some really intense, noisy, and from time-to-time danceable tracks over the years. He's produced some vicious abstract gabber type releases (Vs. Speedranch's Making Orange Things), variant experimentalist drum and bass (Chocolate Wheelchair, Doll Doll Doll), and even a few concept albums (Songs About My Cats, Winnipeg Is A Frozen Shithole EP). Never content on doing the same thing twice, he has
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  • Venetian Snares - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    <b> Venetian Snares </b> - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    Venetian Snares’s Aaron Funk never ceases to amaze, annoy, disturb, frustrate, all that often at once. While his recent output for Canadian-label Sublight Records, Winnipeg Is A Frozen Shithole, an anti-ode to his native city, has been described as one of his hardest, most violent records to date, his next album, this time for Planet Mu, is perhaps his most delicate and intriguing.

    For years, Funk has taken unexpected paths and lodged his infectious
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  • Venetian Snares - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    Reviewed by Luke Turner (Playlouder.com)

    <b> Venetian Snares </b> - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

    I've often found the world of clippeting beats made by hoodied boys and their laptop friends to be a barren one, populated by scientific types who like to keep things as closed as a sanitised laboratory. I've found the blips and flicks to neither burn with a cauterised evil, nor to display any humanity - it's always felt like an alien existence, in which precision instruments are removed from velvet cases and played with by a self-regarding elite.
    But while it'd
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