today I decided to stop my weekly newsletter at Substack. I really liked doing it and the feedback was reassuring, but I have to admit that when I set it up I did not do enough research about the platform and while my newsletter was already running I learnt about its lack of moderation and the according problematic content, and the recent statement by Chris Best, Substack’s Co-founder & CEO, really is the biggest load of nonsense I’ve read in a long time. I do not want to support or gain support on a platform that succumbs to recent right-wing political events this way. And yes, I am fully aware that I still have accounts on Instagram and Facebook, and Meta is no less spineless in that aspect , and I am not happy with that either. I will keep these though, for now at least, to follow others I am friends with, admire or respect. Because sadly there are still no real working alternatives. We will see how Bluesky will develop, if that works I might ditch other accounts as well. If not, maybe I just ditch all of it. I got to know many interesting people through social media, revived old acquaintances, met new ones, and I learnt a lot. But for a longer time now, it is more of a drag than anything else, and I am quite tired of it. I think I might finally be ready to just ignore the algorithms, instead of constantly struggling to push through. If I am are forced to deal with so much content I never asked for, on a daily basis, and the content I actually subscribed to is so hard to find, it is wasting too much time for nothing.
But back to content that actually reaches you. I’ve been writing, mainly about music, for many years, and I was frustrated by how much quality content was lost over time, or in the process of vanishing, without really being replaced. It was some kind of relief for me that said content was actually still there, on platforms such as Substack. So I delved into it and eventually decided to contribute to it myself. It soon became apparent that the convenience of print or web magazines was still a better working model, for me at least, because the more accounts you subscribed to, the more you had to process, and the flood of newsletters in my inbox became a bit overwhelming. Of course it can also get quite costly as if you subscribe to several paid subscriptions. But still, it seemed to be a worthy alternative. Well, until you realize that you become associated with a platform that shares opinions that are in stark contrast to your own. So thank you for your attention on Substack, I hope you can understand my decision. My paid subscribers will of course receive a full refund.
If you are still interested in following what I do, you can always find it here. Of course a personal website, a public archive of your activities over the years, is absolutely anachronistic these days. A post I publish here more or less vanishes into the void if I do not post about it elsewhere. But here I have my own void, and I promise to constantly update it and include writings and thoughts and background I would have published on my newsletter, with the difference, admittedly vital, that you have to look by yourself. But I rather be inconvenient than carry on with doing something I know I should not be doing.
I am in this business for so long that I know what you have to do right now to get gigs. I am really fully aware of it, and I do not condemn it either. I am part of it myself, unfortunately. But of course all these reels, selfies and footage of crowded floors and beautiful sites do not tell the whole truth. Every DJ once had quiet, or weird gigs. And there really is no harm in that at all. If you learn the hard way, you will probably even have more lasting effects. I am happy that this category of gigs is an exception in my years as a DJ, and I would not tell you if it was otherwise, but let me list some gigs I played that were not turning out as I expected.
My then weekly residency at Tanzdiele Club in my hometown. The Saturday before was rammed, the one before as well, and so on. I entered the club ready to top it all, and then there were about 20 people the whole night. At some point I was told that there was a huge private party in some flat by some people notorious for huge private parties. We closed the club at 2 am and went there too, but we couldn’t get in because it was so crowded that not even the police there to shut down the party could get in. Told my ego one or two valuable things, and also about taking things for granted.
Me and Lars Bulnheim were very excited about the invitation to play some Modern Soul tunes at an allnighter in the stadium. We took selfies on the terraces, admired the trophies and the main floor looked like a cruise ship ballroom. It was wonderful. But when we came to our floor there were some seasoned soul DJs playing mediocre Garage House from CDs, and nearly nobody danced. There was a sizeable bunch of old soulies at the bar, and they were cheering and applauding our records. But we waved them over to dance, and they just laughed.
Booked to play one of our then quite cherished disco b2b sets with Hunee. Hunee had suddenly decided that digital DJing was the future and so I was playing vinyl and he was playing with Traktor, or whatever. The difference in sound quality was really awkward, as Hunee’s files sounded really bad on the club’s PA. So even the 15 people who showed up left quite soon. Now his files sound better on most PAs than my records, but hey.
I entered the club and I was delighted by the sleazy and plush interior. Unfortunately that floor was reserved for a Hessle Audio night with all three of them. I said hi and then was directed to my floor, which turned out to be very small, and also served as the smokers lounge. You could say the smoking and according interaction mattered more than my set, let alone dancing.
2011 Tape, Berlin
Traxx celebrated his 40th birthday party on several floors. It was a great party, apart from the floor Trevor Jackson and I played. Which was the separate room upstairs where people went to have a chat, snog or take drugs, or to just have a quiet moment at last. And I was playing a rather advanced set of post punk favourites.
The club by the river looked like as if a spaceship had clashed into an ancient vessel and was half open air. One separate floor had walls of empty bottles. The Russian government had just introduced harsh anti gay laws and the crowd consisted mainly of rich kids more interested in showing off their wealth than in any of the music played, and handsome boys on the edge of the floor pretending to be just friends. I still feel dirty and ashamed when I think of that weekend.
Me and Anstam were the support DJs for the showing of Murnau’s Nosferatu, soundtracked live by Shed. Anstam was great with setting the mood before, the film itself and Shed’s score was impressive too. When that was over, everybody left very quickly and I played maybe half an hour to the almost empty main room. But I ended with „Bela Lugosi’s Dead“, and the staff packing up and me agreed that it was quite a moment.
I had played the same club for the annual soul weekender many times, so I thought it would be a great idea ot play a garage house set. But none of the local soulies showed up, the few people on the floor were not that much into vocals, there was heavy bass feedback on the decks, and there was a huge sold out punk concert in the main room upstairs, and when that ended a bunch of charged up and quite aggressive punks entered the floor and if looks could kill. But I was stubborn, and ready to fight, and surprisingly enough they warmed up to the music very soon. I never had a floor with equally wasted and loved up punks pogoing to Ce Ce Rogers again, unfortunately.
Mark Ernestus was telling me that the club had probably the best sound system he ever heard, the reputation of the place was astonishing anyway. What I did not know about the booking was that I was the only remaining member of a Hard Wax package, and that the gig was announced as such. It was also announced that I would be the only one playing of the former lineup, a day before. So I played a frenetic cut up disco set to a few dub techno fans. The club closed soon after.
2015 Humboldthain, Berlin
I played an amazing set, but it was a daytime open air party on the hottest day of the year, and the few people who came by were paralyzed. I also quickly realized that playing in a wooden shack without ventilation was even worse than lying around in front of it. And I played for four hours.
A wonderful party actually, but all DJs got carried away and played way longer than scheduled. When Shed and me finally started it was already dawning and a lot people had already gone back to the city, and the remaining crowd was too wasted or tired to dance. It did not help that I brought a bag of my favourite Proto Jungle anthems.
2016 Acido, Salon zur Wilden Renate, Berlin
The new techno floor had just opened and I thought it was a great idea to play a set with my favourite acid house records. Unfortunately the other DJs had played a rather leftfield set that did not work, and by the time I arrived the floor was already dead. About five people were merciful enough to dance on, but they were gone pretty soon, and they did not leave to tell other people what was going on. They just left.
2018 Bewegungsfreiheit, About Blank, Berlin
When I arrived at the club I noticed that the lobby floor was sticky and drenched in sweat, but half empty. It was not brave Cinthie‘s fault, who played before me, the reason was that the whole ventilation went bust right after the party started. In June. I played my set, but nearly everybody had escaped to the garden. And every drink I had to fight my frustration seemed to dissolve instantly in the heat.
I had a marvellous time in Australia two years before, playing at the wonderful Inner Varnika festival and some accompanying gigs. When I returned in 2020, however, the pandemic had accelerated from being a distant rumour to undeniable realness very quickly, and while I was travelling down under Europe was locked down and upon arrival I had tons of messages and phone calls by panicking DJs, and I realized that the life I was happily living for over 30 years was basically falling apart in realtime. My first gig in Melbourne was a disaster, as people obviously decided to be reasonable and stay in, and apart from a few friends there hardly was anybody there. The gig in Sydney two days later was the total opposite, playing b2b in a sold out warehouse with DJ Sprinkles, but it had the vibe of the last night out possible, and it actually was. I managed to get one of the last flights back to Europe before most airports were shut down, and dear me I was confused.
This is quite a huge project, and it will probably last several years. Please note that the concept has nothing to do whatsoever with national pride, I do not have one patriotic inch in me.
I am doing it because:
The music is great.
It is a pandemic situation. If I cannot work creatively as I used to, I have silly ideas or go mad. Probably both.
Whenever I played a record from this context at gigs in the past, somebody came up to me and asked me about its origin, and reacted with complete surprise when I told them.
Being born and raised here, you get to meet people who do great music also born and raised here, or living here for a longer time. Some of them became friends, others I admire. Some are quite well known, some lesser so, some are not known at all. I wanted to pay my dues to all of them.
Every record from Italy or Japan was already featured.
Times are hard. I need to boost certain Discogs stocks.
Club music from Germany, Austria and Switzerland? You mean like Techno? Mostly no.
Club music from Germany, Austria and Switzerland? You mean like Minimal? Mostly no.
Club music from Germany, Austria and Switzerland? You mean like House? Mostly yes.
Haha, seriously?
Yes, you’d be surprised.
Hausmusik is airing the first Thursday each month. I will also put the episodes online in a dedicated playlist with download option and tracklist at Soundcloud and hearthis, one week later.
I put up a list with the records I used. It will be updated as soon as I finish recording another episode, so you can check upcoming content if you are impatient: https://www.discogs.com/lists/Hausmusik/713743
Please also note, this retrospective is highly subjective. If I did not include a particular record you love (or produced), it is either because I do not know it, or I do not have it. But please feel free to tell me about it!
I hope you enjoy listening to the music as much as I do.
The
weekender is a very British thing, particularly combined with that
other very British subculture: northern soul. When the first National
Soul Weekender took place in Caister in 1979, some ways of
celebrating the rare soul music scoring the scene had already been
well established: sweaty all-nighters happened all over the country,
where dedicated dancers and collectors met and kept the fire burning.
And all-dayers came into being, allowing the people to indulge in
their passion in different places, with less strict licensing
obligations. The clues were all there. British people liked the idea
to escape their urban working lives to the seaside on weekends. And
the mod culture, always strongly related to soul music, followed
suit, partying (and sometimes fighting) on coastal promenades,
beaches and clubs, as immortalized by tabloid headlines, and a
certain rock concept album plus movie. The brilliant idea in Caister,
however, was to combine all-nighters and all-dayers, and given the
unreliability of the British weather, the concept was due for
success. If it rained, you just danced in a club, and other places.
If not, you had fun at sea, and then danced, day and night, the whole
weekend.
Across
the North Sea in Germany, it seemed like only matter of time that all
this would catch on. And indeed, when the British mod revival of the
late 1970s hit continental shores, it ran through open doors, and the
soul part established itself as a subculture as stubborn and ardent.
The German weekenders followed a different path though. Starting in
1990 in Berlin and then led by annual events in Nürnberg and later
Bamberg, Dresden, Leipzig, Bremen, München, Aachen and more, the
locations were in cities. Hamburg is located very near to the UK and
accordingly anglophile, and came fully equipped with a sizeable
harbour and airport, and so what happened in the UK arguably left a
quicker and bigger mark there than elsewhere in Germany. The city
also had a long tradition of dancing to soul music to rely on, and a
vital club culture, with a long string of cherished soul nights like
the Soul Allnighter at Kir, Shelter Club, For Dancers Only and more
recently The Soul Seven, Motte Allnighter, Cole Slaw Club, Cool Cat
Club and 45 Degrees, just to name a few. But, strangely enough, it
had no soul weekender.
In
2007 this changed, when Ralf Mehnert and Jan Drews Tarazi established
the Hamburg Soul Weekender, with Tolbert taking care of the all-dayer
part. As the three of them were longtime respected DJs and
collectors, the weekender had notable line-ups right from the start,
and every year a thousand international, national and local soul
enthusiasts gather in the storied venue Gruenspan in the seminal
Reeperbahn area, to dance and party to the finest 60s and 70s
northern soul,
modern soul, funk, r&b and other related trends within the scene
that were always spotted early on, and with a keen eye. The music has
been played by over 120 top of the league DJs from all over the globe
so far, and it was always spread across a long weekend of two
all-nighters, one all-dayer, a boat cruise through the harbour and an
after party.
This schedule surely gives leeway to play a whole lot of music, and this compilation can only offer a mere glimpse of all the tunes that got the loyal crowds moving, but it is a heartfelt thank-you to all the dancers who have attended so far, however often they return. And for those who have not witnessed the magic of the Hamburg Soul Weekender yet, please consider this an invitation.
There was this moment in the 90s when the sound of house music changed, with lasting consequences. I would say it began in 1993. Of course technical progress in terms of production techniques and equipment played a role, but it was also very important that the music itself became more popular, and attracted bigger crowds, which led to bigger clubs, and a house sound that pumped crowds and clubs of that size sufficiently. In the following years the superclubs emerged with corresponding budgets, and they needed DJs that played accessible enough to please and unite as many people as possible. This created a divide between denonimators, as simultaneously a lot of DJs and producers defined quality in a different way, and played different styles, to smaller crowds, in smaller clubs. There were DJs and artists that lived in both worlds, or crossed over, and both worlds had different levels of credibility, and success. But increasingly the circuits frowned upon each other, and disrespect was mutual. The big room house music examined here was produced at a time when it had a really bad reputation, being accused of being commercial, devoid of original ideas, or milking once original ideas for far too long. Indeed the sound templates for the music in this playlist had been established years before, and it seemed as if they were only developed further if really necessary. Some of the big room artists were once renowned for different music, and many were quick to maintain that at some point they were selling out and adapting to lesser creative requirements to do so. And some smaller room artists were maybe just envious and could not produce a tune that sold as well, and just claimed they did no want to. And of course for a lot of people it does not matter what size the room has, they just go for music based on their individual preferences, and find that in different contexts. But meanwhile in the early 00s, big room house had its apex of booming beats, dramatic breakdowns and disco samples, and here are some prime examples of the sound.
Victor
Simonelli – Ease Into The Dance (Stellar, 2000)
Victor
Simonelli has many great moments in his back catalogue, and in my
opinion this on par with his most cherished productions. For me the
combination of the bodiless vocal sample and the pumping yet and
elegant deep groove is as immersive as Love Inc.’s “Life’s A
Gas”. I’m serious.
Lenny
Fontana & DJ Shorty – Chocolate Sensation (Original Force Mix)
(FFRR, 2000)
Johnny
Hammond’s early disco staple “Los Conquistadores Chocolates”
was sampled countless times, but not as sweeping as on this belter.
Extra props for the extended filter break which then erupts into
Loleatta Holloway on the top of her lungs. This track pushes all the
right buttons, and works although you can predict any move, only that
every move sounds even more striking than the one before. If you have
never been on a dancefloor exploding to this, you really missed out.
Groove
Assassins – Everything I Knew (Black Vinyl, 2000)
If
some of the orchestral disco maestros would have still been active in
the 90s their music could have sounded like this. Even if this is
just a reconstructed original from their heyday, with a heavily
beefed up groove. Nick Moss and Will Hague understood the craft of
their forebearers on this track, and they made it their own.
Rhythm
Section Feat. Donald O – Do You Know (Main Mix) (MAW Records, 2000)
Every
disco DJ should bring at least one Chic Organization production to
their party, and every disco loving house producer should sample at
least one as well. Henry Maldonado went for “My Forbidden Lover”
and then he turned it into a glorious garage opus, co-written and
performed by the great Donald O. This should have been much bigger
than it actually was, but it is never too late.
David
Bendeth – Feel The Real (Jazz-N-Groove Ultra Classic Mix) (Audio
Deluxe, 2000)
“Feel
The Real”was indeed an ultra classic, albeit on the jazz
funk/disco circuit of the 80s. By the time this was released
Jazz-N-Groove had perfected their slick but heavy groove template so
impressively that they basically could have applied it to any tune
they were given and come up trumps. Judging by their vast output,
some say they did just that.
LoveRush
– Luv 2 See Ya (Joey Negro‘s Vocal Mix) (Azuli, 2000)
Joey
Negro always knew how euphoria works, and here he aimed straight to
the highest level of it. There is some sweet innocence about the
tune, but the pumping groove underneath and several breakdown dramas
tell you to work it. Hard.
Copyright
Presents One Track Mind – Where Would You Be? (Main Mix) (Soulfuric
Trax, 2000)
The
way D-Train’s “Music” is filtered up and down here is very
reminiscent of the finer moments of the French House phenomenon, but
the groove somehow is not. It is just too pushy and impatient, and
the vocal samples get a more generous treatment, verging on harmony.
All good decisions.
Johnny
D & Nicky P – Wild Kingdom (4th Floor Records, 2001)
Of
course big room productions could work well with deeper sounds, and
Johnny D and Nicky P aka Johnick knew how to achieve severe
dancefloor hypnotism anyway. As always when they are in charge, the
music has this strangely psychedelic notion, and „Wild Kingdom“
is another of their real gems to get lost in.
Sunshine
Anderson – Heard It All Before (E-Smoove House Filter Mix)
(Atlantic, 2001)
E-Smoove
was mostly not as smoove in the 00s as he had been before (but who in
this field actually was), but if you remix a sleek R&B hit, you
cannot fire on all cylinders. Still this has the right amount of
infectious funk and it does not divert any attention from the song.
If you think of the proximity to garage vocal harmonies there were,
rather surprisingly, not that many great remixes that managed to
aptly transfer R&B to a house context, but this one gave a lot of
the right clues.
Kraze
– The Party 2001 (Love City Club Remix 2) (Groovilicious, 2001)
It
reads so unimaginative, taking Todd Terry’s “Can You Party”
and the acapella from Kraze’s “The Party”, two early house
productions that were completely overused at that point, and turn
them into a fierce banger that pretends New York City’s big room
haven Sound Factory never closed. And actually the way the track
works all that is really not that inventive. But as it steamrolls you
on that floor, you will not care one bit.
UBP
Feat. Bobby Pruitt – We Are One (Jazz-N-Groove Hands Up Vocal)
(Soulfuric Recordings, 2001)
I
love how this mean little melody never lets up, totally regardless of
the fact that there is a funky booming bassline, a quite shouty soul
singer, a female choir, and several breakdowns, the whole big room
house gospel spectrum. This is a big show, but one detail steals it.
Genius.
DJ
Oji – We Lift Our Hands In The Sanctuary (Anniversary Vocal)
(Sancsoul Records, 2001)
The
original was one of the churchiest of the churchy house anthems, a
whole nocturnal service for those who need the club as a shelter and
a place for relief and rejoicing. 95 North remix it into a way more
urgent groove, but do not sacrifice any of the worship and righteous
spirit. Hands were lifted and love was alive, again.
The
original was a jazzy funked up groover that was hugely popular, but
Frankie Feliciano boldly opted for a complete rework, keeping the
keen message intact but underlying it with unsettling and swirling
sounds and beats that reference Pépé Bradock‘s „Deep Burnt“
and a lot of earlyTodd Terry productions.
Los
Jugaderos – What You Doing To This Girl? (Norman Jay’s Good Times
Re-Edit) (Junior Boy’s Own, 2003)
In
1996 Ashley Beedle and Phil Asher turned a marvellous 1979 disco gem
by Dazzle into a blinding and tripping house excursion. Seven years
later the original rare groove don Norman Jay gave it a remix, and
when I read about that then I was expecting it to sound truer to the
Dazzle original and Jay’s own legacy. But to my surprise his version
was way punchier, and to my joy he highlighted all the best bits even
more. Pure disco house bliss.
Hardsoul
Feat. Ron Carroll – Back Together (Classic Main Mix) (Soulfuric
Recordings, 2003)
Nothing
better than to conclude a fine time at the big room house club with a
big room soulful vocal house hymn. Even better when that tune is ever
so slightly less big roomy than what happened before, but still
easily keeps up the intensity and punch, just because it is a
wonderful piece of music that knows and serves its context. From here
you may start all over again or leave it behind, but both happily.
The DJs of the disco era not only struggled with belt-driven turntables, they also had to cope with live drumming and music arrangements that distracted their crowds. So some of them took scissors and tape and did their own edits. And some were so good at it that they earned a reputation and a studio career with it, and their edits or remixes became as popular as the music they were using, or even more. The first remix service label to gather and publish these efforts was Disconet, as early as 1977. Early remix service releases often contained medleys or little sets mixed by club DJs (foreshadowing the megamixes of the years to come), but more and more the remixes and edits became the centre of attention. In just a few years very many different remix service labels came into being, with different in-house remixers and musical agendas. The appeal of the idea began to fade when labels included their own assigned official remixes on their releases, and an increase in copyright issues in the 90s meant that most remix services went out of business. But even if the legal situation in the preceding years was quite unclear, the creative potential was not. From local to widely acclaimed DJs and from established to emerging studio talents a lot of people had their go at popular or obscure music and came up with lasting results, and they paved the way for the more modern and still thriving edit scene.
Abba – Lay All Your Love On Me (Peter Slaghuis Remix) (Buy This Record, 1981)
This
is actually a remix of a Raul Rodriguez remix originally released on
Disconet. Peter Slaghuis extended the weird start-stop-breaks to
highly irritating three minutes before the song kicks in at last,
like a hymn from the heavens descending onto a crash derby. The
breaks continue to disrupt the song throughout the whole record, the
loops are edited quite heavy-handedly, and the sound quality is
really atrocious. Still this is a remarkable example of how radical
an edit can be, and it was even more radical when it came out. And it
still works a treat on the floor.
Steve
Algozino added synth and edited a four minute album track into a
seven minute disco plea for a better tomorrow. For those who like to
compare a good night out to a religious experience, including telling
it from all mountain tops.
Eleven
minutes of drama and a whole lot of thunderous sound effects, of
which the original version inexplicably had none. It is totally
overdone, but it is also quite impressive too. And you might actually
be soaking wet if you dance the whole thing through.
B.B. & Band – All Night Long (Will Crocker & Jack Cardinal Remix) (Disconet, 1982)
An
excellent version of this heavily funked up italo disco sequencer
boogie classic. The changes are mainly in length and structure, but
they sure sound as if they were needed.
Stephanie Mills – Pilot Error (Hot Tracks, 1983)
The
original version on the Casablanca label has a really superior
pressing quality, but the wild flanger action on this more than makes
up for that. It shoots a slightly eerie, but still earthbound boogie
gem into outer space. Flight time also extended.
Lipps Inc. – Funkytown (Bob Viteritti Edit) (Hot Tracks, 1984)
An
anthem at San Francisco‘s Trocadero Transfer club, edited by its
very own resident DJ Bob Viteritti. The spacetastic additional synths
are played by none other than the legendary Patrick Cowley, a regular
at the club, and they open up a whole other universe.
Jimmy Ruffin – Hold On To My Love (Robbie Leslie Remix) (Disconet, 1984)
A
sweet little Robin Gibb co-written soul mover, until New York City‘s
Saint resident DJ Robbie Leslie decided to turn it into an anthem of
epic proportions, particularly by riding the enormous refrain for
five extra minutes. This was actually the last record the crowd ever
danced to at the Saint‘s closing weekend, which really says a lot.
Mari Wilson – Let‘s Make This Last (Razormaid, 1984)
This
track was an unusual release for the Compact Organization label‘s
60‘s beehive pop revivalist diva. But that the Razormaid remix team
completely restructured and improved the original version was very
usual for their standards, resulting in an even smarter take on
Hi-NRG.
Roxy Music – Angel Eyes (Joseph Watt Remix) (Razormaid, 1984)
Needs
more suspense in the first bit and inbetween, thought Razormaid, but
they also added sophistication to the whole song. And bringing one of
the best dressed style icons to the club surely was no mistake
either.
Machine – There But For The Grace Of God (Glenn Cattanach Edit) (Hot Tracks, 1987)
This
just neglects the piano intro, you may think, and instead uses a
looped groove to ease into the song. It also extends the break, and
adds an outro loop at the end. Well, this is not the only blueprint
for the more recent editing of disco tracks for DJ convenience
purposes, but it shows how you achieve better mixability while
leaving all the greatness of the source material untouched. Even
consider it a reminder.
Hard Corps – Lucky Charm (Razormaid, 1987)
A
lot of Razormaid releases are easier to mix than the original
versions, wrecking a lot of intros in the process. Then again
Razormaid were always quite ambitious in terms of restructuring, and
also quite subtle in adding their own trademark sound design without
taking away anything that should not be taken away. And Razormaid
have a cult following for a reason.
Big Ben Tribe – Heroes (Steve Bourasa Edit) (Rhythm Stick, 1990)
I
always felt the dreamy italo disco take on the David Bowie classic
was near perfect, but it should last longer, without risking this
perfection. Thankfully I found this edit by Steve Bourasa, who
apparently thought exactly the same, and he had the skills.
Dead Or Alive – Your Sweetness Is Your Weakness („Silver Bullet“ Mix by Peter Fenton) (Art Of Mix, 1991)
Dead
Or Alive were actually really big in Japan. So big even that they
released some of their music only in Japan, and some of their finest
music too. Buying the original 12“ of this wonderful piano house
romp will not come cheap, but do not worry, as there is this (still)
affordable and fantastic version hidden on a 12“ on the Art Of Mix
remix service, because they are not called remix services for
nothing. The mix merges Dead Or Alive‘s „Son Of A Gun“ from
1986 with their Japanese market stormer, as if they were twins
separated at birth.
P.M. Dawn – Set Adrift On Memory Bliss (Bradley Hinkle & Tim Robertson) (Ultimix, 1991)
P.M.
Dawn did not win many hearts in the hip hop scene when they sampled a
very popular blue-eyed soul ballad, and used the same seriously dope
beat Eric B & Rakim on their seminal „Paid In Full“. Rakim
and Prince Be are really hard to compare, I admit. This remix even
only slightly alters the original. Well until there is a break and
then the second half is Spandau Ballet‘s song in its entirety
riding the very same seriously dope beat. Which is one of the
greatest things ever.
Culture Club – Time (Clock Of The Heart) (Chris Cox Remix) (Hot Tracks, 1994)
I
realized I am now old enough to accept that I will probably never
find the vinyl with this remix for a price I can live with. So I
might as well show it to anybody else. Culture Club‘s arguably
finest moment, and in my humble opion one of the 80s finest pop
moments as well, in a superlative remix that manages to double both
length and listening pleasure. I would not change a second of it.
You better acknowledge the fact that house music emerged from gay sub- and club culture. And it is a continuation of disco music, for which the same applies. These are the undeniable roots of what still keeps so many people busy on the floor, and the roots of a whole industry. Yet there are less explicitly homosexual producers and performers that have the same attention and careers as the heterosexual stars of the scene, and there are less records that display explicitly gay content in the canon of club music than heterosexual ones. This guide is a chronological celebration of releases that wear their sexual orientation with pride, from the early days of house music to ballroom culture, drag queens and vogue dancers, from encoded niches to the mainstream. RuPaul‘s first record was released in 1985, a long way before the Drag Race. And a whole lot of names have vanished from sight over the years. And even if the struggle continues, they all paved the way for more acceptance.
The Children – Freedom (Factory Mix) (D.J. International Records, 1987)
A jacking anthem for the Warehouse and Music Box crowds in Chicago, produced by Adonis and The Children. But also very decidedly produced for the children, the dancers on the floor that did not fit in with the majority around them. „I have nothing to prove. I‘m this way because I wanna be. Can‘t you accept me for what I am?“
Steve „Silk“ Hurley – Cold World (Mommy Can Your Hear Me Mix) (Atlantic, 1989)
Jamie Principle riding a bumpy groove, taking a stand against ignorance within family and society. The lyrics have echoes of the Pet Shop Boys‘ „It‘s A Sin“ and Bronski Beat‘s „Smalltown Boy“, but they have no time for pomp and detailed narrative. The kid is not leaving, as the Beatles once sang, it is thrown right out. „The children say: I will not change!“
Danny Xtravaganza – Love The Life You Love (Le Palage Mix) (Nu Groove Records, 1990)
In 1990 the success of Jennie Livingston‘s documentary „Paris Is Burning“ brought the secluded ballroom culture into the limelight, and gave Madonna a hit single (and some spectacular tour dancers). The codes, terminology and vogueing dance moves were expected to fade away again once the usual mainstream attention faded, but they came to stay. Among the houses portrayed in the film was the House of Xtravaganza, whose forming member, the late Danny Xtravaganza managed to introduce both a life-affirming message and a glimpse of success against a merciless ballroom jurisdiction, all over a breezy house groove. „Judges, your scores. Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten across the board!“
Jackie 60 Presents Jackie MC‘s – The Jackie Hustle (Johnny D‘s Duelling MC Mix) (Minimal Records, 1992)
The theme tune of the seminal New York City club Jackie 60, featuring co-founder Johnny Dynell and Arthur Baker as producers, and Danny Tenaglia mixing it up. The track is a sweet mellow house groove with a cheeky reference to Van McCoy‘s „The Hustle“, and Paul Alexander and Richard Move most charmingly act as MCs in the most conférencier sense, greeting the Jackie legends and Jackie hustlers as if they would pass them by in the room, and giving them a bit of attitude, too. „We got a lot of superstars in the house tonight. Hello. I wanna welcome all the Jackie virgins, all the Jackie wannabees.“
Ralphi Rosario – Bardot Fever (D.J. World, 1992)
Ralphi Rosario provides a swinging piano house track for a showcase of Chicago‘s club legend Byrd Bardot. Actually the way she constantly pronounces her name throughout the track was perfect to throw a pose to. „Do you feel it? Fever? Lots of fever? I bet you do. “
Moi Renee – Miss Honey (Project X Records, 1992)
A kicking house track that gives more than a slight nod towards Masters At Work‘s „Ha Dance“ from 1991, the probably most interpreted sound template of ballroom house music. But here we also have the late, legendary Moi Renee, telling that unfaithful bitch some news in her very own style. Her almost mantra-like rant inspired a lot of subsequent vocalists to follow her steps, although they mostly went way more into detail. „Where‘s the bitch, she‘s got some nerve. Here I am, and feeling fierce!“
Baltimore Club was not exactly known for queer artists, and so the repect and praise the late Miss Tony commanded in that scene was already saying a whole lot. A frequent featuring MC and vocalist on according local records and club nights, Anthony Boston also proved to be aware of the real struggle with brilliant releases like „Release Yourself (Tired Of Being Under Pressure) and „Living In The Alley“, but „Tony‘s Bitch Track“ really shows what this legend is all about. The music merges Todd Terry and Eddy De Clercq‘s act House Of Venus as a perfect canvas for Miss Tony‘s inimitable reading. „I‘m a man, I‘m a man, I‘m a man, I‘m a man. But you know what y‘all? Sometimes I feel just like a woman. And if you don‘t believe me, ask your father.“
I.M.T. only released two singles, but both were very remarkable. Their music was an eerie and idiosyncratic take on house and techno, their message was an encouragement of transgender determinedness, referencing quotes from „Paris Is Burning“. „It‘s your turn. And it‘s your time. To free yourself to become yourself.“
The Ride Committee Feat. Roxy – Get Huh! (E-Legal, 1993)
Roxy punished the competition in a lot of seminal ballroom house records, but this wild Louie Balo production is still among her fiercest. Don‘t mess! „She‘s got really dreadful skin. She‘s got Ethel Merman‘s chins. I hate huh! Get huh!“
Candy Jackson aka Sweet Pussy Pauline aka Hateful Head Helen was a true icon of the Chicago house scene, releasing very self-confident and often very explicit tracks since 1986. But this striking Mike Dunn production shows another side of her, telling a very moving and very bitter story of abuse and wrong love to the girlfriend (and us). „Now I‘m in the hospital. I got a black eye, a sprained arm and one broken leg. I can‘t see him the way I used to, I can‘t hold him the way I want to, and I got thoughts that I want to hop back to him when I get out. Am I crazy? Am I still delirious?“
Junior Vasquez – X (Sound Factory Mix) (Tribal America, 1994)
The Sound Factory was the big room playground of the 90s ballroom scene, and its resident DJ Junior Vasquez was its undisputed and imperious ruler. This pounding track is an example of how he merged DJ Pierre‘s wild pitch sound template with the club‘s floor theatrics and drama, and it is also a tribute and a theme tune to the House of Xtravaganza, and its late house mother Angie.
Rageous Projecting Franklin Fuentes – Tyler Moore Mary (Banji Bite Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1995)
Jerel Black working a butch, Todd Terry referencing house track, featuring the notorious Franklin Fuentes relentlessly reading a queen who is probably having a go in the realness category. „I‘m the New York Times, baby. And you‘re Street News. You get the picture?“
„Can You Party“ by Todd Terry in his Royal House guise served as reference in many ballroom house tracks (and also yet again there are samples of other staples like Eddy de Clercq‘s aka House of Venus‘ „Dish And Tell“ and MAW‘s „The Ha Dance“), but it arguably seldom hit as hard as in this Robbie Tronco production. One for the true devils on the floor. „Butch Queen vogueing femme. Butch queen voguing like femme queen. Bring it to the runway.“
The Ones – Flawless (Phunk Investigation Vocal Mix) (Groovilicious, 2000)
The Ones was a triumvirate of the scene veterans Paul Alexander, Nashom Wooden and Jo-Jo Americo, whose „Flawless“ was released in 1999 to little attention. Since the early 90s successes of the game changer RuPaul or the camptastic Army of Lovers attempts to conquer the charts had more or less failed, but then Italian remix duo Phunk Investigation were allowed to have a go at the track, and transformed it into an irresistibly catchy big room house anthem that was frowned upon by musical purists, when actually it was indeed pretty much flawless. After all a glitzy fantasy of fame and beauty on the floor appeals to the majority, or so it became evident. „With amazing grace you walk and smile, they answer to your beck and call, you’re flawless. After all, overqualified for the position, your dreams see fruition. Mere class on a higher plane. Everyone wants to know your name .Just like perfection. Needs no correction. Like no other.“
Aaron-Carl – Hateful (Wallshaker Music, 2004)
The late Aaron Carl surely was a unique phenomenon in the legacy of Detroit techno. Respected by fellow artists and fans locally and internationally, yet determinedly outspoken about every point he felt the need to make about himself and those that stood in his way, and also gifted enough to succeed with every artistic statement he wanted to make. However endearing he could be, he was neither ready to compromise, nor would he ever put up with everything, and „Hateful“ was a fine testament to that. „Tearing down the future, living like the past. If you can‘t tolerate my kind, you can kiss my fucking ass. I‘m feeling hateful, because you think I‘m weak. I give it all, and you take it away from me. I fight fire with fire when I‘m in this state, and if I can‘t find love, I guess I‘ll hate.“
At the end of the 80s house music added deep. Seminal artists like Larry Heard, Marshall Jefferson or Virgo Four abandoned the track-dominated sound palette and introduced musicianship to a genre that was then better known for dancefloor functionality. But it was from 1990 on that the vibe really spread and developed, particularly in New York City. I first heard the term flute house when Roger Sanchez released „Luv Dancin‘“ by Underground Solution. Some also called it ambient or mellow house. But the music was not made for home listening purposes, DJs would use it, too. As a gentle introduction, or as a moment of regeneration during peak time, or as the best possible way to ease the crowd out again into the early morning, so that not a single glorious moment of what just happened the hours before was tainted by something less. A lot of these tracks had enough kicks to have you working at any time, but they also seemed to be created for unique moments, closed eyes, embraces, disbelief evoked by sheer beauty. A lot of these tracks had tags like ambient or jazz in their titles and credits, but they did not really try to be either. The artists involved liked to display their musical abilities, and their skills to establish a mood and an atmosphere. They knew how to write a melody, they knew how to arrange their layers and instruments, they were determined to sound as good as their means would allow. By the time Frankie Knuckles‘ Whistle Song was released in 1991, the flutes, vibraphones, saxophones or similar instruments were already derided, but the sound had come to stay, until this day. This playlist gathers some classic moments that paved the way.
Logic – The Final Frontier (Acoustic Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1990)
Wayne Gardiner took Larry Heard’s gentle elegance (the bassline is lifted from Fingers Inc.’s deep house blueprint “Can You Feel It”) and added the archetypical swing of early 90s New York City house. His back catalogue is filled with lots of sublime grandeur, but this track is structured like a jazz band taking turns on their respective instruments, and steadily building up layer after layer of tension and drama in the process. The result is still peerless.
That Bobby Konders quit producing house music for a career in dancehall and dub productions when he was capable of track like this, is still a an irreparable trauma for many. As with many of his tunes, this can completely zone you out. Eight minutes of considerably relentless flutiness, accompanied by a dubbed out bassline and some eerie strings. A psychedelic masterpiece.
The Vision – Shardé (Nu Groove, 1991)
Eddie Maduro was an accomplice of Wayne Gardiner (for example he co-wrote Logic‘s „The Warning“ and supplied its seminal vocal introduction), and this is one of his finest moments. It is named after his daughter, and I am very convinced that the world would be a better place if such a beautiful piece of music would be composed for every child.
The Nick Jones Experience – Wake Up People (Massive B, 1991)
New Jersey DJ and producer Nick Jones with a total gem on Bobby Konders‘ Massive B imprint, with some help by Satoshi Tomiie. Not your typical house groove, but this forever remained a special track for special moments anyway. But if chosen wisely, it can elevate those moments to something completely else, be it in the club or when you are on your own.
Beautiful People – I Got The Rhythm (Club Mix) (Cabaret, 1991)
I assume this collaboration of Joey Longo aka Pal Joey with Manabu Nagayama and Toshihiko Mori came into being when King Street Sounds label head Hisa Ishioka introduced American and Japanes producers to each other in the early 90s. This tracks bears the trademark Pal Joey mixture of hip hop ruffness and deep sounds, but it is way longer, more complex in structure, and it even adds a steady breakbeat to fine effect. Beautiful People indeed, and they sure got the rhythm.
The people of Hamburg rarely boast about their achievements, which is why you probably do not know about the club this compilation is about. But you should know about it. The club was called Front, and it lasted from 1983 to 1997, which in itself is quite an achievement. But what happened there in those years is the real treat.
Hamburg in the 1980s had a vibrant nightlife. Mod, soul and (post) punk culture had seemingly always been covered by numerous record stores, live and dance venues, such was the diversity of styles after disco collapsed in on itself when its boom was over at the end of the 1970s. A lot of people say that this was the time when things got really interesting in terms of music, and they are probably right. Klaus Stockhausen definitely knew that. He started DJing in 1977, in clubs in Cologne, Frankfurt and Amsterdam, and had already reached considerable status when Willi Prange and his partner Phillip Clarke opened Front six years later. They were very keen on laying the focus on quality dance music at their club. They knew about Stockhausen and had been travelling to Cologne frequently to hear him play. And when he happened to visit Front by chance in early 1983, Prange recognized him, fell onto his knees and asked him to become the resident DJ. Stockhausen accepted.
His new workplace offered few distractions from the music. It was located in the basement of a high-rise building owned by Leder-Schüler, a leather manufacturing company, in a rather nondescript business district near the Berliner Tor station, away from the traditional entertainment hotspots near the harbour. But in its early years Front was a strictly gay club, and its clientele made no little effort to enjoy the experience, doubtless content that the straight crowds amusing themselves elsewhere across town were shying away from it. The rooms were raw, with low ceilings and bare walls, and through a long corridor you could either descend further into a bar area, or turn right to the dance floor, which was surrounded by low platforms with railings. The quadrophonic sound system was not exactly an audiophile’s dream, but it was very efficient, and very loud. The light-show consisted simply of strobes and multicoloured fluorescent tubes, lighting up the dark at mysterious intervals, and an illuminated sign reading “Danger”. But the boldest statement was that you could not see the DJ. The booth in the corner was completely secluded, leaving the DJ to check the intensity level through some tiny portholes or, more commonly, by gauging the sheer volume of screaming on the floor (thankfully there was plenty of that). It is still unclear what led the Front owners to build the booth in that way, but it was there right from the beginning, and both the DJs and the dancers appreciated it. It meant that the music unfolded like some force from somewhere else, and it was more important than anything else in the room. Of course you can only make this setup work if you know your crowd exceptionally well and, in return, if your crowd trusts you blindly. And the music was much better than good enough, keeping the attention of revellers throughout the night.
Klaus Stockhausen got to know his crowd very well indeed. Being a resident in those days meant that he played every night from Tuesday to Sunday, for eight to nine hours that he programmed more like a rollercoaster, in terms of tempo and intensity, than a constant peak time. He loved it. He had enough time to test new records and develop a sound that fitted the location and educated the crowd perfectly. Sure, old and new disco and other subsequent sounds as synthpop, electro, freestyle, boogie, hi-NRG and italo where played by other DJs in other clubs around town, but they were not played in the same manner as they were at Front. Klaus Stockhausen had unique mixing skills, with an unerring and adventurous taste, and he worked according to his own intuition, which soon made the Front experience incomparable to other places. He had a preference for edgier, more dynamic dub and instrumental versions and utilized scratching, a capellas and sound effects (the tractor sound bookending the mixes of this compilation being a prime example), and, generally, even if you knew some of the records, at Front they never sounded like you remembered. And they were all played in a way that was so coherent that every further development to the sound palette of the time was immediately sucked into the sound of Front. Thus, from 1984 on, when well selected local stores like Tractor and later Rocco and Container Records started stocking the first house music imports, it did not feel like a major change to proceedings; it felt like an addendum.
But still, after a transitional period, the house sound gained momentum. Around the same time, Klaus Stockhausen started to have a second, equally successful, career as a stylist and fashion editor and, never having been interested in the techno craze or the cult of personality that was beginning to emerge around DJs, he felt it was time to cut down on playing out. Thankfully another, equally talented DJ appeared on the scene with whom he shared the residency until he finally quit in 1992 to concentrate fully on his work in fashion.
In 1984, at the age of 16, Boris Dlugosch educated himself on cassette live recordings from the club and began practicing his own skill set. In 1986 he handed in a demo tape and was rewarded with the job, which, of course, really says something. And soon it became obvious that he could fill the shoes of his predecessor and mentor, even though Klaus Stockhausen had shaped the needs of the Front crowd for such a long time. It certainly helped, though, that the now-dominating house music was evolving so quickly, and that the Front DJs had easy access to the newest releases. But after the early sounds from Chicago had morphed into acid house in the late 1980s, the stylistic variety for which the club was so cherished seemed to be at risk, and the Front residents decided to keep any potential conformity at bay. So when techno established itself in 1990/91, Front did not give in to the desire for harder and steadier beats but instead embraced the machine funk of Detroit, the freestyle hybrids from New York City, and sounds emanating from the UK (the latter also helped by the anglophile tradition of Hamburg’s club culture, the proximity of which had always led to a healthy exchange of ideas taking place either side of the North Sea). Still, techno was increasingly defining itself in terms of harder and faster and, in the process, it lost its groove. Thus, Boris Dlugosch switched the mode nearly overnight to garage and deep house, and mixed these sounds to such new heights that the typical Front floor dynamics were never lost, they just sounded different. The reputation of Hamburg as national and international hub for house music has its origins right there. House had been played at Front since 1984, so it was one the first clubs outside of the US to feature it, but now it was also defining it. And it was opening up. The door policy was not strictly gay anymore, and guest DJs like Frankie Knuckles, DJ Pierre or the Murk Boys from the US were invited, often playing their first gigs abroad. Nevertheless the club was, in the main, ruled by its resident DJs, first and foremost Boris Dlugosch, but also Michi Lange and Michael Braune. They all defined the ‘90s at Front, as the club managed to uphold its wild hedonism, inventiveness and versatile approach for nearly another decade.
But it was also undeniable that nightlife was changing. More and more DJs entered the scene, and the identification with weekly residencies was fading. In Hamburg, as in any other local club scene, competition was soaring and increasingly crowds grew eager to catch a glimpse of the next big thing, something new, something unfamiliar (however great that was). And, feeling their club was growing apart from that with which they had once fallen in love, the original Front dancers were no longer as fiercely loyal. But pioneering is always easier than maintaining status quo, arguably better, and, true to its original spirit, the club closed its doors at a level that was still extraordinary. And it lives on – you can trace its legend in so many wonderful things.
It really is something to boast about. These mixes by Klaus and Boris in commemoration of Front are long overdue and they stay true to its legacy. Even if they represent but a tiny fraction of the whole picture, they still belong to that picture. And I hope you now want to know more.
When the brothers Stefan Mitterer (DJ Sotofett) and Peter Mitterer (DJ Fett Burger) decided to extend activities from their graffiti origins in their small hometown Moss in Norway to music, they founded the label Sex Tags for their own sounds and those of friends and artists they admired, either from their own country or met while travelling. Thus an ever growing and fiercely independent network came into being that by now is so complex and diverse that many find it difficult to decipher. But for the brothers it all makes perfect sense, and there is a coherence based on their own varied musical preferences, humour and attitude, and that of the likeminded collaborators they encountered along the way. There is also a vital dose of determination and conviction that ensures that the whole construct is as antithetic as it is cohesive, and as tight-knit as it is open-minded. We take a look on some choice tunes from the back catalogue of the parent label Sex Tags Mania and its leftfield offshoot Sex Tags Amfibia, plus the imprints the Mitterers run individually (Sotofett’s Wania, and Fett Burger’s Sex Tags UFO, Mongo Fett and Freakout Cult, the latter a joint venture with Jayda G). The other talents that populate the Sex Tags universe are too many to list, but we included some that pop up more frequently.
This joint venture of Norwegian old school don Bjørn Torske and the enigmatic Crystal Bois (or Siob Latsyrc, if you prefer) is a supreme example of how little a good house track needs to achieve magic. A deep and dubbed out chord, some improv percussion, and that is basically it. But it keeps moving floors since it first appeared twelve years ago, and will most likely continue to do so.
Acido – After Club Rectum (Crystal Bois’ 727 MANIA) (Sex Tags Mania, 2007)
An early appearance of the tag Acido (but confusingly not involving Acido label head Dynamo Dreesen himself) and Laton label head Franz Pomassl, who was to become a regular fixture in the Sex Tags universe. Crystal Bois on remix duty, and they transform the source material into a hard jacking rhythm tool track that you can most probably mix into anything and gather all attention. Erlend Hammer provides brilliant liner notes, making a perfectly valid point that every local scene needs a Club Rectum.
Doc L Junior – Baracuda (Sex Tags Mania, 2009)
Kolbjørn Lyslo had already released fine and highly individual tracks on the prolific Music For Freaks UK imprint in the early 00s, but the sound of this track (originally scheduled for Torske’s Footnotes label, but then lost for very obscure reasons) was not to be expected. A latin and jazz tinged summer breeze of a tune that could so easily have ended sounding camp and corny, but sounded absolutely sublime instead. A reproachful echo of the days when uplifing was not yet an insult.
The first appearance of Greek vocalist and musician Paleo, the closest the Sex Tag empire has come to an in-house diva. He delivers his trademark meandering voice to a dark hypnotizing jam produced by Busen, an alias of Daniel Pflumm, a prolific graphic designer who also released on Elektro Music Department, General Elektro and Atelier, and Stefan Mitterer. Also well worth noting for a typically tripped out session on the flip, provided by Dreesvn alias Dynamo Dreesen and SUED label head SVN, at their Neues Deutschland studio HQ.
Another mainstay at Sex Tags and affiliated labels, Skatebård, who rides a psychedelic new wave take on new beat, before most even cared to remember what both were. Skatebård always manages to come across as both earnest and gleeful with every reference he works into his music, and is thus a perfect match. At Sex Tags, fun and seriousness go hand in hand.
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