The old trunk sits in the corner of the room. It creaks and cracks as I fumble with the latch. Sound erupts from within. Excitement. Passion. Forgotten sounds of teletext dreams from Sonoton library remixed by the likes of Revbjelde, Jung Collective, Monoslapper, Zyklus, Jazz Spanky and Buff Plaza swirl about in a hurricane of luminescence.
I click my fingers to High Tension like a Smarties stuffed disco biscuit. Exhausted, I sink to the floor and let the rhythms of a Life in the Fast lane sweep me into a sweet tasting long exposure traffic jam. As the lights drift off into the distance I am reminded that Big Brother is Watching You - undaunted I reach for his enormous hands, letting him pull me into a deep and passionate swing. The 70’s Fun Pop begins and I switch between the joyous slow beats, the siren sweeps and the groovy Scooby Doo backing band. The Moog and Brass take over, a great accompaniment for the late 60’s crime fighting that I feel driven to engage in. I pause for a moment at Towerstreet 17, watching the lights of the elevator as it climbs through the smoke of the ravaged skies. But I must keep Moving Along and so I do, finding myself at the Droid rave on an abandoned space station that orbits the forgotten and blighted sepia landscape. As I turn to leave, O’Mane begins, the melancholy ambulance turns circles around me as the Tokyo motorcycles weave about the floor, bathed in yellow orange and blue flashes of faded neon.
Bathe in this.
Lose yourself in utter groove.