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.
Although it closed in 2010, Bar25 still holds a very special place in Berlin clubbing history. Established in 2004, it introduced a hedonistic playground atmosphere to a scene that often preferred to appear sombre and serious. There are countless tales about what wild abandon happened between the wooden fence shielding the club from everyday life and its naturally occuring other boundary, the Spree river, where from the opposite bank or passing boats you could watch a very escapist crowd roam the vast area on marathon weekends. Its soundtrack of minimal and quirky tech house grooves that still work even when held back by a limiter is as synonymous with the Berlin party experience as are the improvised wooden interiors, psychedelic decor and joyful ideas that spawned a legion of other clubs to follow suit since its closure. Now rejuvenated as part of the Holzmarkt project in the same space, we’re taking a look back at the sounds that represented the club. To do this we enlisted someone very close to the project, who could also share some of his favorite memories from the club: Jake The Rapper, a former Bar25 resident DJ.
“This is an excellent example of original minimal, and minimal was my gateway into the whole techno scene and later Bar25. I feel like there were a lot of parallel scenes happening in the Bar at the same time, so I can’t really say this was the blueprint for the Bar25 sound, but it’s definitely the one I went deep into. When other DJs and their fans would take over right after something I was into, I’d be like, “What is this? This is totally different. I don’t get it”—which is just fine, as the place fed on variety and experimentation. There was also a whole other floor called The Circus that was dedicated exclusively to weirdness and avant-garde music. It was a very open time for music and a very open place. It certainly expanded my tastes and skills and every other part of my mind. But this track, although it came out three years before Bar25 opened, definitely laid the groundwork for the kind of vibe that was really appreciated. This was deep and trippy and softly took me to a place I really wanted to go after having been dancing, partying and socializing—sometimes for days on end.”
“This has some elements of electroclash that were really big at the time. This was the same time when Peaches, Mocky, Gonzales, Puppetmastaz and so on were some the biggest Berlin acts. It definitely influenced pop music and of course in the Bar as well, although it generally went with a more minimal sound than this. This was a big banger in comparison to what usually came before and after it. Is it a bit cheesy? Yes it is. But it’s so smooth that it inevitably got everyone deep up in there and fully involved. Plus I had a few numbers that use this same half-tone progression, and I chose this one for being the most representative of that time and also one that is still playable today.”
“I know this doesn’t even seem like a dance track at all—very mellow. But if I played this during the day between minimal tracks, people really loved it. it’s instantly recognizable without being too poppy or kitschy; it’s deep without being too melancholic—it’s really quite a piece of work. The lyrics are just single nouns in a row—“a life, a room, a house, a street.” It seems to comprise cut-up parts of a poem, and yet it expresses a mood and a scenario that’s somehow Lynchian. And then there are these minor guitar chords that go easy on ya. There’s no kick drum—or any drums per se—and yet it totally grooves and got people dancing, at least in the Ranchette at the Bar25. That may be why the place was unique, you could really DJ tracks to celebrate their spirit without having to kowtow to dance floor dynamics. There was already such a suspense and energy there, even when it was half full a little would go a long way.”
“I feel like this track, despite the fact that it became a tech house club hit nationally and internationally, nonetheless captured the sound of the Bar25. Remember that a lot of the time it was daytime, so something with a deep, warm sound made a lot more sense in bright sunlight than in a dark club. A lot of these kind of songs I think gained popularity through the surge in open-airs and daytime clubs like Bar25. This might have put everybody to sleep in the average German dance club in 2005. But when it’s around midday and you’re sitting, looking out at the Spree while a light breeze makes the straw in your gin and tonic move around so you hear the ice in your glass tinkle…you see yourself reflected in your friend’s sunglasses and you look like you’re really enjoying yourself, and then this big soothing, massaging synth surface lifts you up and you have to just stand up and go YEAHHH! …yeah, that’s a Bar25 moment for me.”Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Philip Sherburne about “The Flat Earth” by Thomas Dolby (1984).
Why did you choose this album, and how did you come across Thomas Dolby in the first place?
Until I was 12 or 13, I got most of my pop music from Top 40 radio. There weren’t a lot of other options for kid living in suburban Portland, Oregon in the late ’70s and early ’80s, and I loved a lot of things that I’d probably cringe at now, simply because they were all that was available. This is not one of them, though. Thomas Dolby’s “The Flat Earth” has remained a personal favorite for a quarter century now, and within it I can find many of the seeds of my eventual love for electronic music. I don’t remember any first encounter with Thomas Dolby’s 1982 single “She Blinded Me With Science,” which was all over the radio that year. I’m sure it was the synths and samples that grabbed me. I had discovered synthesizers through the music shop where I bought piano sheet music – Bach, Czerny, Phil Collins – and was nuts about anything with synths in it (In 1983, I’d get one of my own, a Korg Poly-800). Curiously, I didn’t dig any further into Dolby’s music at the time, but then, the song was ubiquitous, and in retrospect, it was such an odd single it probably didn’t gesture towards a form bigger than itself, like an album. It was what it was, and that was plenty. In 1984 or 1985, I went through a brief period of checking out LPs from the Multnomah County Library. That’s where I came across „The Flat Earth“. It was the cover that got me. Around that time, I would latch onto anything that had the faintest hint of “new wave” to it, and the cover’s pseudoscientific markings and cryptic photo-montage seemed like the most modern thing I’d ever seen. In retrospect, the sleeve is hardly so dazzling — a slightly watered down version of Peter Saville. (In fact, it looks a little like a cross between the Durutti Column’s “Circuses & Bread” and Section 25’s “From the Hip”, but it lacks the elegance of either.) Still, it was good enough for a 14-year-old jonesing for the New. I remember sitting on the floor of my parents’ living room, hunched over the sleeve, trying to make sense of the whole package. Not to repeat myself, but “cryptic” is the only word that fits. Everything about the music seemed to hint at hidden meanings, from the sleeve to the lyrics: “Keith talked in alphanumerals,” after all. Who the hell was the guy panning for gold on the cover? Who were these mysterious Mulu, people of the rainforest? What was a drug cathedral, and why an octohedron? (I had so much to learn.) Etc., etc. I’ve long since stopped caring much about lyrics, much less concept albums, but I was young and impressionable then, and every flip of the record seemed to offer another clue as to some strange, grownup world I couldn’t begin to decipher. The same went for the music, of course. For starters, there was the stylistic range: “Dissidents” and “White City” were recognizable as pop music, after a fashion, but what was “Screen Kiss”? It presented a kind of liquidity I don’t remember having recognized in music before that – first in the fretless bass, the synthesizers and the stacked harmonies, and even the chord changes, but mainly it was the way it trailed off into the scratchy patter of L.A. traffic reports, multi-tracked and run through delay. I’d never heard the “real world” breaking into pop music before, and certainly not spun into such a purely “ambient” sound. “Mulu the Rain Forest” was another weird one – again, an approximation of ambient, long before I’d discover it. And “I Scare Myself” totally threw me for a loop. What was a Latin lounge jazz song doing here, especially sandwiched between the humid “Mulu” and the jagged, chromed funk of “Hyperactive”? There was no doubting the continuity of the album, but the pieces felt at odds, as fractured as the cut-up sleeve imagery; the sequencing seemed erratic and the two sides of the LP felt out of balance with each other, and yet you couldn’t have put it together any other way. Just like venturing to the edge of the (flat) earth, flipping the record had a weirdly vertiginous quality to it. (I was, you may note, an unusually impressionable adolescent, at least where music was concerned.)
At the time I got this it took some time to grow on me. Was it the same with you or was it love at first sight?
A little of both. There was definitely something off-putting about the record at first, but I devoured it anyway. I’d go so far as to say that the parts that alienated me were precisely what sent me back into it. I wanted to figure it out. All this might sound a little silly now. Today, I can recognize that a lot of it is pretty overblown, beginning with the lyrics: “My writing/ is an iron fist/ in a glove full of Vaseline”? That’s… pretty awful. (Also, it may go some way towards explaining the purplish quality of my own youthful stabs at poesy.) But for all its excesses, it kept drawing me in. I still listen to the fade out from “Dissidents” into “The Flat Earth” and feel a thrill all over again, all those gangly licks and hard-edged FM tones giving way to hushed percussion and a yielding soundfield… It’s funny, too, to listen today to the title track and even hear the tiniest hint of disco and proto-house in the rolling conga rhythms, things I had absolutely no idea about then. Whatever its failures, this was the album that, more than any other up until that time, convinced me that records offered more than just a hook and a chorus, that they deserved to be puzzled through, analyzed, unpacked. That they offered up their own little worlds, worlds I would aspire to inhabit. Read the rest of this entry »
The Druffalo rave saga continues. This time round the Druffalo Hit Squad travels back to the New York City of the early 90′s, when labels like Nu Groove, Strictly Rhythm and many more dropped several bombs each week on the city’s manic floors, and the according sound was a sample-heavy and stylistically irresponsible mixture of roots in Disco, Hip Hop, Freestyle and clues from worldwide House and Techno proceedings. An overdose of signals both deep and kicking, and a decidedly street approach to structure the madness.
At that time you could even dance to that, whenever and wherever you wanted to.
We sure did, and still do.
How about you?
The Sound Vandals – Extasy (Nu Groove) Full Moon – Allelujh (Dope Slap) Jam To It Again – Aquarius (City Limits) Brooklyn Funk Essentials – Change The Track (Minimal) Bobby Konders – Let There Be House (Nu Groove) Intellectual Harmonious Sanction – Save The Whales (R&S) Mental Mayhem – Joey’s Riot (Atmosphere) The Untouchables – Trippin’ (Strictly Rhythm) Direct – Techno Gone Mad (R&S) Project 86 – Industrial Bass (Nu Groove) Sound Factory – Cuban Gigolo (Capitol) Jovonn – Back To House (Goldtone) Static – The Native Track (Strictly Rhythm) House Syndicate – Jam The Mace (Dopewax) The Dope Wax Allstars – Angelo’s Groove (Dopewax) 33 1/3 Queen – Searchin’ (Nu Groove) Gypsymen – Bounce (E Legal) Foremost Poets – Reasons To Be Dismal (Nu Groove) Metro – Straphanger (Nu Groove) Open House Feat. Pace – Seven Day Weekend (Nu Groove) Arthur Baker And The Backbeat Disciples – Silly Games (A&M) KC Flightt – Planet E (RCA) Earth People – Reach Up To Mars (Underworld) J. Of Barcelona – Red Light District (Rey-D) Landlord – I Like It (Bigshot) A Bitch Called Johanna – I’m A Bitch (Project X) Ooscha – Ich Will Dich (Quark)
Der Titeltrack ist eins dieser umfangreichen Akkordepen, kitschfrei, aber immer noch eine Schippe drauf. Eine Showtreppe in House, nach oben beschritten, und dann sind da noch mehr Stufen. Da wird man ganz benommen von. Der lässige Funk mit Slap, in den sich das Stück gen Ende entblättert, an dem bleibt man dann ganz plötzlich hängen. Da könnte man glatt mehr von haben, denkt man so bei sich. Und „Tectonic Moves“ auf der Rückseite macht dann tatsächlich genau da weiter. Der Track macht sich auf einem griffigen Boogie-Fundament locker, lässt die Sounds dubbig darüber wischen und hat dabei einen schöneren Bart in der Disco als so manch andere in der Schublade. Der Dub im Gespann mit Ingo Sänger fühlt sich im Prinzip sehr ähnlich an, aber die darüber wischenden Sounds sind eben noch dubbiger. Im Ergebnis ein Fotofinish.
Despite the demolition of most of its former playgrounds, the legacy of the classic era of European punkfunkateers remains indestructible. The Druffalo Hit Squad was actually raised on a diet of edgy dancing, nervous drinking, and romantic industrialism. As we move to the vicious dub, panic horn sections, flat snares, slap basslines and vigorous chants like we used to, we press record. Now you press play…
23 Skidoo – Coup (Illuminated) The Flying Lizards – A-Train (Virgin) The Wolfgang Press – Assassination K. (4AD) Kazino – Binary (Carrere) A Certain Ratio – Mickey Way (Factory) Shriekback – My Spine (Is The Bassline) (Y Records) Thompson Twins – In The Name Of Love (T Records) ABC – Tears Are Not Enough (Neutron) Gabi Delgado – Amor (Virgin) Simple Minds – Theme For Great Cities (Virgin) The Raincoats – Animal Rhapsody (Version) (Rough Trade) 400 Blows – Return Of The Dog (Illuminated Records) Futura 2000 Feat. The Clash – The Escapades Of Futura 2000 (Celluloid) Ian Dury & The Blockheads – Reasons To Be Cheerful Pt. 3 (Stiff Records) Modern Romance – Can You Move (Midnight Mix) (Atlantic) Haircut 100 – Ski Club Of Great Britain (Arista) Medium Medium – So Hungry, So Angry (Intercord) Fehlfarben – Dollars + Deutschmarks (Special Dance Version) (Welt-Rekord) The Members – Chairmen Of The Board (Dance Mix) (Arista) Quando Quango – Love Tempo (Factory) Spandau Ballet – Chant No. 1 (Chrysalis) Clock DVA – Breakdown (Remix) (Polydor) Gang Of Four – At Home He’s A Tourist (EMI) Czukay/Wobble/Liebezeit – How Much Are They? (Welt-Rekord) The Slits – I Heard It Through The Grapevine (Island Records) Marianne Faithfull – Why D’ya Do It (Island Records) Colourbox – Look Like We’re Shy One Horse (Virgin) The Specials – Friday Night Saturday Morning (2 Tone)
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