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.
In discussion with Steve Fabus on “Let’s Start The Dance” by Hamilton Bohannon (1978).
How did you discover „Let’s Start The Dance“? Was it in a record store, or in a club?
I discovered “Let’s Start the Dance” in my slot at my record pool, BADDA (Bay Area Disco DJ Association) in San Francisco in 1978. It was the album „Summertime Groove“, where „Let’s Start the Dance“ is the first track on side A. When I first heard it I was blown away by it and couldn’t wait to play it at the club that night. When I played it the crowd went crazy and it was the peak record of the night, not surprisingly.
When the record came out, you had already started your career as a DJ in San Francisco. What makes this record so special for you? And was „Let’s Start The Dance“ a defining record for the sound you played back then?
I was playing loft parties and underground clubs and at two of the major clubs in San Francisco, the I-Beam and Trocadero Transfer. I know one of the reasons I was brought into the scene was because I incorporated a lot of the R&B, Groove, Funk and soulful sounds from Chicago and New York and mixed it with the NRG and Electronic sounds already being made in San Francisco, and coming in from Europe. „Let’s Start the Dance“ was and still is a defining record for me because it is such a fusion of so many of these sounds but most importantly — it’s a jam. Its many elements, Jazz, Blues, Rock, Funk, Electronic, Boogie, take you on a trip in a whole movement building up to a crescendo of orgasmic release. It relates to other fusion sounds like the Isley Brothers’ „Live It Up“, Crown Heights Affair’s „Dancin“ and many of James Brown’s tracks.
Hamilton Bohannon was a drummer originally, and he started releasing records that were very focussed on rhythm and very distinctive from the early 70s on. What was his role in the history books of Disco music?
I first heard Bohannon in Chicago in 1975 at Dugan’s Bistro, a major downtown gay club. The track I heard was „Bohannon’s Beat“ which is on one of the early albums on the Dakar label. It stood out to me because it didn’t follow any of the commercial rules of the day. It presented itself as a unique sound — experimental and minimal, a mantra to hook into. It inspired and encouraged DJs to take Disco underground. It was like a loop, a tool to use to improvise, phase or use as a bridge. Mantra is a major theme for Bohannon and he carries it forward with „Let’s Start the Dance“, which is just the opposite of minimal. He turns it up with the full on jam that puts dancers in an intense trance that they have no choice but to ride to its conclusion. It is very rich with a number of instruments played including guitar and keyboard with Carolyn Crawford’s couldn’t-get-any-better-voice. What this record represents to every generation is that this is the real deal musically.
Are there other Bohannon records you rate nearly as much?
My other all time favorite is „The Groove Machine“ – as intense as “Let’s Start the Dance” but trippier with its phased out psychedelic break and its total fusion hard funk rock electronic groove. When I hear this it makes sense that Bohannon early on drummed with Jimi Hendrix. Both “Groove Machine” and “Let’s Start the Dance” feature guitar riffs prominently.
1977 saw the peak of the classic Disco era. Was „Let’s Start The Dance“ an early sign that Disco could live well past the end of that boom? That the sound could move on and still matter?
“Let’s Start the Dance” is timeless because as I had mentioned before it’s a whole movement and jam where you’re hearing real instruments. It always ignites a dancefloor and from the first note you want to pay attention. The lyrics come fast with “Everybody get up and dance – Ain’t ya tired of sitting down?” This could be cheesy but it’s not, and you know it’s not and surrender completely to it right away. There is no way you couldn’t let yourself be seduced by it and every generation experiences this seduction. It still matters because it’s a prime example of the authenticity of Disco of that time period and that’s what lives on. Read the rest of this entry »
For many years it almost seemed as if Patrick Cowley appeared from nowhere, then achieved a stellar career in music in the brief period of only a few years, tragically cut short when he passed away due to AIDS, only 32 years old. There must be millions who danced or listened to his music, and he was most deservedly hailed as one of the most important artists in the history of club music ever since. Still, Patrick Cowley the person remained strangely unexplored. There were countless entries in books and websites specializing on Disco, yet they all used the same few photographs of him, and the same scarce biographical details. There were no interviews, no friends and collaborators were asked to tell stories. He dropped his musical vision, which was way ahead of its time, arguably still is, leaving only speculation as to what might have been, and where it actually came from.
Admittedly it was not that easy to find out when it actually happened, pre-internet, but when his fame as the synth wizard in the aftermath of the classic Disco era skyrocketed in the early 80s, he was also producing the first album by Indoor Life, the band of his friend Jorge Socarras. It was not music destined to shine under the glistening mirror balls of the hedonistic palaces of that time, it was dark and edgy. It was more Post Punk than Disco. Wait, I meant New Wave, nobody said Post Punk then. By all means it should have been proof enough that there was more to Patrick Cowley than the music he became famous for. Read the rest of this entry »
Moral – Trees In November
Ajukaja & Andrevski – Mesilind
Walt J – Horns Of Plenty
KB Project – Feel It
Universo – Yebo
Lowtec – Man On Wire (Reconstruction)
K.A. Posse – Shake (Joe Smooth Mix)
Geena – Tone Loc
Mosey – Live A Little
Luca Lozano – DJ Fett Burger – Telegronn
PLO Man – Type Damascus
Shanti Celeste – Moods
Chaperone – All Your Emergencies
Boo Williams – Freaky
Donnie Tempo – Tazmanian Virus (Sims JFF Edit)
Harmonious Thelonious – Industrielle Muziek
Minor Science – Closing Acts
DJ Stingray 313 – Acetylcholine
KiNK – Vodolaz (Elektro Guzzi Version)
MD Jr. – Survival Of The Richest
Unspecified Enemies – Ms. 45
Merle – Mimi Likes 2 Dance
House Of Doors – Starcave
Superpanzer – Die Tollen, die nicht so Tollen, und die Häßlichen
Finn, what memories do you have of your first DJ set?
It was mostly playing records at school and private parties from the mid 80s on, playing a variety of Disco, Soul, Synthpop and Post Punk. I’d like to remember that as eclectic, but probably chaotic would be the more apt description. Actually my memories of my first forays into playing out in public are bit hazy by now. After all, that was nearly 30 years ago. What I vividly remember was a Soul allnighter in a basement club of my hometown of Kiel, in ’86 or ’87. Actually it was a whole Mod Weekender, with several events all across town. My friend Ralf Mehnert, who became a well respected Rare Soul collector and DJ, and me took over the Soul part of the proceedings, playing records for a crowd that consisted of mods and other hip folks, but predominatly drunk scooter boys. Somebody saw them standing outside, mistook them for skinheads, and alerted the most notorious local Turkish street gang. They arrived not much later, crashing the door and storming down the stairs, only to face quite a crowd of completely unimpressed heavy parka-clad folks. Ralf and me ducked away in the DJ booth and things got really messy. About 30 minutes later there was no intruder left and the party continued as if absolutely nothing had happened. There were numerous other similar experiences. Kiel was quite a tough city, probably still is.
Can you re-engineer what influence being a small town boy – born and raised in Kiel, in Northern Germany – had on your musical education?
I did not really feel limitations. There were record stores as Tutti Frutti or Blitz which were very well selected with electronic music of the 80s, Punk, and experimental stuff. And quite a number of second hand stores to choose from, where I mostly bought Soul, Disco and obscure 60s and 70s records. Some of those acquired bigger record collections from Danish libraries and sold each record for 2 Deutschmarks, regardless of format. I purchased the bulk of my Disco collection in those years, for example. You did not have to spend much, so you would explore what you would have otherwise not listened to. I had a lot of friends who were very interested in music, and there was a constant exchange of knowledge, good and bad finds. It was all very social. I made regular record shopping trips to Hamburg, too. There were plenty of excellent record shops there, for everything of interest to me. I always looked for dance music of any kind, and Hamburg had stores that were importing records since the Disco era. They had the contacts and the knowledge.
And as for the clubs?
I did not mind being in a smaller town either. There were quite a few. The DJs mostly did not mix much and played all over the board stylistically. There was a tendency to play music in topical blocks. A 30-minutes block of Disco, followed by a 30-minutes block of New Wave, then Hip Hop, then some Rock, then Soul, then slow songs, then everything all over again. Once a few tunes worked together and on the floor, the DJs tended to rely on the according selection and did not change it for what seemed to be years. That drove me mad, but in retrospect I could hear lots of different music in one single night, and that left a mark on me. You learn about the contexts of what you hear, and how they relate to each other. I still make use of that. I travelled a lot, and I have been to a great number of clubs in my life, but when I moved to Berlin I was already in my early 30s. I spent my formative years up North. I did not move because I had to get out either, I left because the job situation was difficult for me. If I would had found an interesting job at that time, I probably would have stayed. I still go back regularly, I have family and friends there, and I still miss the sea.
You were born into club life by the sets of Klaus Stockhausen at Front Club in Hamburg, when you were dancing the nights away at the age of 18. What made this experience so fundamentally alluring to you?
I started going to clubs in Kiel in the early 80s, 12 or 13 years old, then to Hamburg clubs only a few years later. Most clubs in Hamburg were not as different to Kiel as they maintained to be, but the people had arguably more style and the music was more specialized. You went to certain clubs for a certain kind of music. I had been to some gay clubs in Kiel before, but they seemed to be stuck with a soundtrack that had been tried and tested for years, classic Disco anthems and the occasional Schlager drama excursion, and the scene was not that open. You often felt like the stranger entering the saloon, and the crowd often was more made up by people with a common taste in music and fashion that just happened to be gay. A lot of 80s fops and some sugar daddies. It could be fun, but more often it was not. These people had to live with other prejudices and repressions than just getting beaten up for the style of the subculture you had chosen for yourself, like I did, and you did not belong.
And Front Club was different?
Absolutely. When a friend took me to the Front Club in early 1987 that was dramatically different. The crowd was predominantly gay, but if you were not, like me, nobody seemed to care. I was aware of the major role gay subculture played in the evolution of dance music, mostly by reading features about legendary Disco clubs in magazines, but they were about Bianca on that horse for instance, and not about what was booming from the speakers as she rode in, which was exactly what interested me most. Front was the first club where I could actually experience it, and even be a part of it. And Klaus Stockhausen was the first DJ I ever heard who did not only play records, he mixed them. Like no other I heard ever since. It was not that I did not know any of the music before, but he was transforming the records into something else. And the club itself was incredibly intense, I have never witnessed something like that again either. A dark, gritty basement filled to the brim with extravagant people who completely lost their minds on the floor. And my first visits were coincidentally a good timing, because it was the transitional period between the music played there from 83 on, and House. House was introduced there much earlier, but it still was not ruling the playlist. It was brilliant to hear Stockhausen play favourites I loved from the years before, and more often records I never heard, and then the added early Chicago House sounds that seemed to have swallowed decades of dance music history only to spit them out as this raw, primitive version of it. It fit the club perfectly, and soon I was heading over to Hamburg on weekends as much as I could, because I simply could not get enough of the experience. That lasted until around 1995, and then I took up a residency in Kiel for almost ten years, and it kept me well occupied. But just think of all the incredible music released between 1987 and 1995. It really were the blink and miss years of what we still hear today, and I could be witnessing all crucial developments right on the floor, played by the best DJs, and dancing to it in the best club with the best crowd. Good times.
When did you start collecting records? During those blink and miss years?
No, much earlier. The little money I had I spent on records since I was about 6 years old. My parents gave me a record player, and the Forever Elvis compilation, plus radio and cassette recorder and they were my favourite toys by then. Especially the radio was very important. I spent endless hours recording music from the radio, cursing presenters for talking too much over songs I liked. And the hit music played on the radio in the mid 70s was just great. Chic and Roxy Music were probably my favourite bands. And all those weird and wonderful Glam Rock acts. But luckily enough I had also a chance to catch the music from early on that was not deemed fit for airplay. I had an uncle who had the idea to buy record collections at judicial sales, and he often gave me the records he did not like. Thus I could become the proud owner of Can’s Monster Movie or the first Suicide album and several obscure Soul albums when most of my classmates were still just listening to the charts. I know this sounds terribly made up, but it is the truth. And at a very young age you tend to play your favourite records over and over and over, your relationship to music is very intimate and deep. Soon I felt quite confident in my taste, and I was spending more and more time and money on music. But I actually had not the faintest idea how much great music there really was out there to discover, and I had yet to meet the right people to share my passion for it. That changed as soon as I could sneak my way into clubs. Read the rest of this entry »
Pablo Gad – Hard Times Dub Achterbahn D’Amour – Königsstr. (SW. Remix) Willis Anne – Untitled Lena Willikens – Mari Ori Reckonwrong – Hansie C.C. Not – Untitled Lohhof – Midway Moodswings (Terekke Remix) X – Untitled The Maghreban – Green Apple Florian Kupfer – Discotags Kai Alcé – Rockin K-Tel Orson + Skratch – Untitled Leigh Dickson – Praise (Baby Ford Mix) Perbec – Chaser Translate – City Slicker Marquis Hawkes – The Way Isanlar – Kime Ne (Ricardo Villalobos Version 1) Hashman Deejay – Samba DJ Sprinkles & Mark Fell – Insights Ken Gill – Love Moon DJ Sotofett – Nimbus Mix Simone White – Flowers In May (Kassem Mosse Version) Stump Valley – Caruso Plaza – Night Lines (Moon B Extra Nocturnal Mix) Aphex Twin – diskhat1 Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras – She Had Her Nerve
Though being a Disco and a Post Punk enthusiast since a tender young age, Indoor Life admittedly passed me by for quite some time. In pre-internet days, all the media resources I had access to (which actually were as many music magazines I could afford to read and as many radio shows within reach I could listen to) proved their unreliability by not offering me any information about them. There was no good friend who discovered their releases in a record shop, and they escaped my digging fingers as well.
When I finally stumbled upon Indoor Life years later, while researching potential gaps in my extensive Patrick Cowley collection in the web, even the few low research details and low quality vinyl rips I could gather made it more implausible how this outfit could fly so below all radars, and more importantly, for so long. How could I unearth the entire catalogue of a phenomenal band like Philadelphia’s The Stickmen while still being a teenager, who had less information circulating, less releases and probably never toured outside the US, and totally overlook this one, which connected even more of my interests? A band from the golden days of San Francisco Disco and Post Punk, produced by the legendary Hi-NRG originator Cowley himself? Post Punk AND Patrick Cowley! It was puzzling to say the least, and it sounded too good to be true.
Only it wasn’t. The CD-R copy a friend in the UK had sent me (I may have had internet access by then, but file sharing was still way ahead) sounded even better. There was a notable absence of guitars, but not to be missed, as the bass played with as much heavy funk as anything featuring Bill Laswell, but with a different edge, in perfect unison with ultra-precise and similarly heavy funky drums, both often deviating to rhythm and groove of an almost feverish quality. The synthesizer sequences and sounds indeed were similar to what Cowley did on his famed productions in the Disco area, but here they were a whole lot more experimental and dark and added a congenial atmospheric edge to the proceedings. A plethora of weird effects and particularly this absolutely stunning and unique use of the trombone added even more. And on top of it, this charismatic voice, sounding like nobody else’s, singing words of strangely tainted romanticism and that kind of futuristic alienation that would not age awkwardly. Listening to it all I was floored, and instinctive attempts to compare it to other seminal protagonists of that time soon failed into nowhere. And as that meant seeking parallels to other music created in an incredible productive and innovative era, this of course was quite something. Indoor Life were an impressively smart archetype, ahead of their time in many ways. Like in hindsight, so many were not.
It was certainly predictable that I would purchase everything they did, even if it would take years. But I would as certainly never have predicted that I would ever be involved with what the person behind the voice had done with Patrick Cowley before Indoor Life, or that I would even get to know him, and find him to be one of the finest and most interesting persons I have ever met, and a good friend. But that’s another story. In the meantime, consider yourself very lucky that you have much quicker access to the genius of Indoor Life than I had. “Archeology”, indeed…
The D.H.S. gives the dance the D.H.S. treatment, in a punky reggae fashion.
The D.H.S. rules the dance.
Seen?!
Scritti Politti – The Sweetest Girl The Flying Lizards – Ash And Diamond Au Pairs – Headache Colourbox – Baby I Love You So The Beat – Drowning The Special AKA – Racist Friend The Specials – Ghost Town UB40 – Food For Thought A.R. Kane – Catch My Drift Grace Jones – She’s Lost Control The Clash – Armagideon Time Kid Creole & The Coconuts – Schweinerei The Flying Lizards – The Window The Raincoats- No Ones Little Girl The Bodysnatchers – Too Experienced Orange Juice – Flesh Of My Flesh Colourbox – Shotgun World Domination Enterprises – Asbestos Lead Asbestos XTC – Dance With Me, Germany Wayne County And The Electric Chairs – C3 The Selecter – The Dream Goes On Gang Of Four – Woman Town Material – Ciquri Czukay/Liebezeit/Wobble – Where’s The Money Madness – Yesterday’s Men Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras – Burn Brighter Flame A Certain Ratio – Funaezekea Steel An’ Skin – Afro Punk Reggae Dub Dislocation Dance – Show Me 400 Blows – Black And White Mix Up Pere Ubu – Humor Me Young Marble Giants – Eating Noddemix Sad Lovers & Giants – Sleep (Is For Everyone) The Cure – All Cats Are Grey
Im Gespräch mit Klaus Stockhausen über “Party Boys” von Foxy (1980).
Wie bist Du auf „Party Boys“ gekommen? Beim Plattenkaufen für DJ-Gigs? Du hattest ja 1980 schon mit Auflegen angefangen, als die Platte rauskam.
Die Platte ist, denke ich, von 1979, aber es war wohl 1980. Angefangen habe ich drei Jahre vorher. Ehrlich gesagt war ich in Amsterdam in einem Plattenladen, Rhythm Import, und es war der Nachfolger von „Get Off“, und „Get Off“ ging relativ gut ab. Ich habe in drei Clubs gearbeitet zu dieser Zeit. Donnerstags/Freitags in Frankfurt in so einem Armee-Schwuchtelladen, der hieß No Name. Da waren nur stationierte Soldaten, sehr amerikanisch. Samstag/Sonntag Coconut in Köln, und Montag in Amsterdam im Flora Palace, was hundert Jahre später zum It-Club wurde. Und du hattest drei verschiedene Musikrichtungen. In Köln war es diese Hi-NRG-Nummer mit sonntags Schwuchtel-Tea-Dance, Poppers etc., bei den Amis hattest du funky to Disco, und Amsterdam war britisch angehaucht. Diese Fusion war ganz gut.
Wie hat sich denn das Britische in der Musik in Amsterdam manifestiert?
Es war soulig, Hi-NRG, aber später auch so etwas wie Loose Ends. Es waren Elemente von Rare Groove drin. Und bei „Party Boys“ fand ich einfach diesen Hook so toll, der eben wesentlich eleganter war als zum Beispiel „Cruisin’ The Streets“ von der Boystown Gang. Eigentlich könnte man diese beiden Platten übereinander legen, es funktioniert perfekt. Und diese schrägen Stimmen. Ich mag Stimmen gerne, und wenn sie slightly off sind, mag ich sie noch viel viel lieber. Read the rest of this entry »
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