• The Crack Capone

    DJ Roc - The Crack Capone

    Reviewed by Oscar Broc Source: (Playground)

    <b> DJ Roc </b> - The Crack Capone

    Mike Paradinas wants juke. And when Mike Paradinas wants juke, you, your aunt, your cousin, the newspaper salesman on the corner, the fat bloke from the Apple store and every other living creature in their right mind wants juke too. The Planet Mu deacon is crazy for that rabid sound coming from the dancing sewers of Chicago that has rapidly caused some severe attacks of priapism among the greediest of electronic scouts. The story of this new current

  • Rudi Zygadlo Great Western Laymen

    Rudi Zygadlo - Great Western Laymen

    Reviewed by Paul Clarke Source: (Drowned in Sound)

    <b> Rudi Zygadlo </b> - Great Western Laymen

    No greater intellectual authority than Ian Brown once claimed that kids need boredom, saying that the fact there were only three TV channels in the mid-Eighties gave him the impetus to form The Stone Roses. Rudi Zygaldo might well agree with him, even if growing up in Manchester with only TV-AM must seem almost decadent to a kid raised in the Scottish countryside without any TV at all. Filling his head with classical music and obscure Eastern

  • Solar Bears She Was Coloured In

    Solar Bears - She Was Coloured In

    Reviewed by Mike Mineo Source: (Obscured Sound)

    <b> Solar Bears </b> - She Was Coloured In

    Solar Bears in Space

    Posted by Mike Mineo on 9/26/10 • Categorized as Features

    Things usually fare well for film geeks when they show a passion for making music. By film “geeks”, I’m not referring to that friend who can name every David Lynch or Lars von Trier film. They might know every underground film in existence, but if they have no knowledge of production or the film aesthetic than they are merely a critic (and probably

  • DJ NATE Da Trak Genious Planet Mu

    DJ Nate - Da Trak Genious

    Reviewed by LUIGI PATAZONI Source: (Vice Magazine)

    <b> DJ Nate </b> - Da Trak Genious

    Sorry, I stopped paying attention to obscure American dance styles shortly after I stopped laughing at that documentary about krumping, but this retrospective of footwork cuts from 20-year-old Chicagoan Nathan Clark is a bit of a treasure trove. Twenty-five tracks of jittery, syncopated Chicago house jammed full of robo-synths and totally-out-of-nowhere samples that have you jabbing yourself in the ear and going “Hold on, was that Evanescence?” to nobody in particular.