uglymowgli

Well I'm the king of the swingers, yes, urban jungle VIP.
London town's where I get down and I travel from zone 3.
I wanna be a man in a nightclub, or seeing lots of bands,
I like my tunes but often lose, when trying to breakdance...
(make it funky now...)
Oh, oobee doo, I like mixing tu-u-unes,
And leavin party's with red eyes gone two-oo.
Sometimes you'll see-ee-ee, I'll leave at three-ee-ee...
And have been often found bent double by a tree.

*Jazz Hands*
So here I am on this great big virtual bandwagon all set to funk.

..
Please, if you fancy hitting that 'Add To Friends' button, just drop me a message saying who you are, how you found me, and what attracted you to my page.
I'm on a mission to get coverage to music, artists and events that are fresher than fresh, but I like to know who my friends are!!!
Otherwise, well, what's the point?
Isn't it?
Uglymowgli DJ gigs:
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...& previously...
@ http://www.33portlandplace.com
BUG06 @ The NFT, 27/03/2008 - a varietable feast of film, video and music! Check out www.bugvideos.co.uk for more info...
GIG & CLUB REVIEWS by Phil D
Please feel free to get involved and add comments about my reviews and stuff; debate the opinions, artists, venues, music and issues they cover; and generally let me know how I'm getting on with a bit of feedback.
Enjoy! - PD
Keep checking MIXMAG and SELECTED magazine for more morsels of musical mischief, articles, stupid stuff and flavour-fresh reviews.
Next Up: -
And the answer is: Mixmag Feb 2009 - The Unusual Suspects... pg. 50
&
Goldie & Tong interviews: Selected Magazine Summer 08 Issue 03, pages 46-51
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I edited my profile using: my own two hands and a hint of brain
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Album Review: WanDan Pro TeK ShuN RaCK-It (Run ‘n’ Jump Records)
Inside hip hop’s handbag the DJs, breakdancers, graffiti artists, and beatboxers who pioneered the original scene have for too long found themselves struggling for space, overshadowed and weighed down by the modern MC, his ego and his heavy gold chain.
Recently, however, beatboxing is celebrating a new cool. Charting a meteoric rise from the novelty soundbox antics of that guy in Police Academy, artists such as Rahzel, Doug E. Fresh and Killa Kela have brought the art form to the intercontinental fore. Furthermore, music kingpins Rob Da Bank and The Prodigy have showcased the upsurge in local talent like Beardyman and Nathan ‘Flutebox’ Lee.
Enter WanDan, aka Ian Crook, whose debut album compiles years of live shows, collaborations and vodka into something very, very good indeed.
Cast in mix-tape form, WanDan’s jaw-dropping display of vocal gymnastics underpins a twenty one track hotpot of originals with production values as slick as they are raw. Featured artists, reading like a Who’s Who of the Southwest London underground, include DMC champ DJ Muzzell on ‘Shanty Town Mass Sicker (en Francais)’, Lazy Habits on the laid back jazz-hop of ‘Rolling Starr’ and MCs Compound and Lazy on ‘Life in Letters’ – a rap cut from nothing but acronyms, demonstrating that talent is nothing without ideas, but with both you get something special.
Other highlights include ‘Genuine Article’ – which will wear out your repeat button, and ‘At Somepoint in the Nineteen 7T’s’, repping a sense of humour that would tickle DJ Yoda’s turntable. Put simply, imagine the variation, skill and dexterity of Radio Soulwax with a ‘fick’ London accent and tunes you’ve never heard before… One small breath for Wan, one giant beat for Wan kind. Phil Dudman
You can buy Pro TeK ShuN RaCK-It now and support your local beatniks @ Run 'n' Jump Records
Review: Hot Chip @ Somerset House, London 21/07/07
It’s not crafty to book tix for the Chips even when you’re off to Glasto. It’s bloody good sense. Sure, you might catch a glimpse of the fabled ones, stuffed in a sardine tent as a badly timed splash of what you hope is just mud finds your face, but this is Hot Chip, not only the most original dance act of the decade but a band that single handedly made crap plastic eyewear the coolest thing since Optimus Prime. They deserve better. And for those at Somerset House this evening better is very good indeed.
To begin, supporting act Grovesnor, whose track ‘Nightmoves’ opened the Chip’s recent DJ Kicks album, finds the jury still out on his karaoke melodics – is annoyingly catchy eighties pop actually that great or is it just Vice City induced nostalgia??? But as the sky deepens, Hot Chip spark the fire with a unison pigeon-nod and frantic blend of electronics, guitars and angelic vocals from Alexis Taylor. Boy From School soothes the soul (what a tune!), before a momentary rain deluge gives birth to a new breed of umbrella rave as My Piano, Over And Over, and a wonderful arrangement of old and new reek havoc with the senses. Suddenly a flying glowstick misses Al Doyle by an inch. “He’ll lob it back,” threatens Joe with a smile. Not quite ‘The Warning’ we expected! …Until the title track rips forth to remind you why you dig live music so frickin’ much in the first place.
Overall, what better way to close a supremely eclectic week of gigs at this courtyard venue where ‘packed’ stills means ‘space to dance’, the bars are run with the efficiency of a German motor company and the building itself – bathed in ever-changing colours – makes you feel like the MP for Discoland. When the Chips are down you’re guaranteed a full house.
Phil ‘Uglymowgli’ Dudman
24/07/07
Review: LCD Soundsystem @ The Astoria, London, 15/03/07
More beers than we could drink made for happy queuing, a last ditch public drinkathon as those in front were quickly gulped inside. They are packing them in, tickets, arms and crappy silver flags, flailing amidst the hustle. Fifteen minutes later and Murphy joins the rest of his outfit and begins… “The time has come… The time has come today!”
In his white, jeans-bottomed,

Rain________
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T, he could look like you or me - his relatable, unpackaged, anti-hero brilliance spitting citrus in the eye of music’s corruptions whilst somehow capturing everything that makes it so good. Meanwhile, a large synth takes centre stage and a Bill Bailey look-a-like hits the drums which for some reason I find totally hysterical. Murphy, for the moment, dances like my mate Tom – all wrong and lovingly dislocated.
Frankly, you know your on to a great gig when ‘the big one’ takes second slot. It’s an intentional, scripted decision. The opening bars of ‘Daft Punk Is Playing At My House’ answering all immediate questions and satisfying that ‘now we’re here – let’s dance’ drunken-punter-lust to boogie. It’s a clever ploy that throws cliché to the wind, then inhales a fresh gasp of suspense for what’s next.

Murphy’s showing us the ropes – a drifting right foot disguising his disjointed urge to punkfunk. His right hand clutching a drum stick. This is finger lickin’ good. The dude on treble turns to his amp asking for feedback then stammers away, his coiled cord leashing across the stage like a telephone extension. This song ends to rapturous applause, the crowd in the pit starting to wake and shake.
Three tracks in and ‘Time To Get Away’ winds-up clockwork ears, then hit two crashes in, North American beats kicking – scum style – as lights lick and burst from the DFA logo-bolt mirrors across the balcony.

My lady friends exit low for a downstairs rave, needing to rock whilst the applause seems still to represent a band too cool to totally show ones true feelings. Murphy, turning to his bass player, bids to explain: “This is Phil. 6’2, 6’3 – he’s a bad muthafucker,” then all emotions break loose as the Baba O'Riley sounding ‘All My Friends’ paves the way for an E’d up Townsend, Entwistle, Daltrey and Co to enter the building, swig it up at Keith Moon’s bar and let loose. I find myself alone… And wonderfully lost. . . . . . . . . . .

Retuning to watch a second key maestro properly hunching over an organ, Notre Dame is rocking and Esmeralda ringing my bell. Now the disco electrics and crunching chords of album opener ‘Get Innocuous!’ rip forth as Bailey hit’s and kicks. Murphy turns his back, then turns again singing “It’s just like Saturday” – echoing a wishful truth, before a filtered drum roll brings another stunner to an end. Sweet.

Drink. Breathe. BEATS!

‘Tribulations’ goes stratospheric, just as I realise I’ve avoided the bar so long I am now actually sober. Still, my pen says it all – in big letters – ‘ROCK ON… YES!’

…Taking a piss on the other hand is a nature-inspired must, and, during this brief period, encompassing the inevitable bar trip, I realise I am totally (and inconsiderately) deaf. “You fucking what??? NO, four cans.”
A swift return, however, sees Bailey (who’s real name – Pat Mahoney – was never going to compare) indulge in a percussive head to head with Murphy, the latter putting his drum stick to good use as he bellows “yeah” to the power of four, recurring. To his right, ASBO keys surge beneath electronic filters as things, people and others, sweat hot and get crazy, just before the best beat ever worms it’s way covertly through the crowd. This is the ‘take it down a touch’ track, complete with Hot Chip glockenspiel high’s, but all, uniquely Liquid Coated Disco. [“It’s a choose your own adventure thing, I think…” - [Mixmag, March 2007>

Two middle-aging lovers decide enough is enough, letting a double helping of rock entice them from their balcony seats, over the threshold and into our arm-flailing, finger-funking furore. In a spare breathe, the man, (my Dad’s age – yet with a Robert Redford twist), asks why I’m making notes? “For my grandkids,” I reply, as the revelation suddenly dawns that as a dance nut, I’m probably watching the greatest original band in the world. Well at least that’s what they might say one day..?
Murphy interjects – “This is our last song. The last song we’re gonna play – for you.” – and a whole world of melancholy descends.

‘New York I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down,’ takes the rug from beneath the rocker, the dance floor from under the raver. It’s a song of love and loss all at once, and with it, this milestone gig comes to its close. Thoughts provoked. No encore required.

Superb.

Phil D

16/03/07
Review: FabricLive @ Fabric, 09/03/07
It’s just dirty. The air thick with bass, the crowd sweaty and heaving. Two guys who call themselves Evil Nine ripping through the murk with lightning drums. They are having fun, and I feel special too. Trying to force myself to room two for a bit of Streetlife DJs action, I’m beyond torn – I’m spoilt for choice. But, anchored in room one, my beat-bungee keeps yanking me Evil-wards, recoiling in time for a dark black remix of Moby’s ‘Go’, and some sneaky teaser-beats from E9’s seminal ‘Crooked’, dropping for a few bars as the terrible two smile and bounce. The crowd fixated, the juiciest of chord breakdowns (reminiscent of the back end of Freeland’s Doors remix) summons applause as the stage is set for a live and charismatic punk breaks set from Ghostland Observertory.
Again I dip into room two, the bass-blend through the tunnel almost too much, disguising a moody Hot Chip remix from Radioslave. Although it’s early days, I feel a fade coming on so headline for the bar – a water, a coke and a beer (in that precise order), for the ol’ detox-retox routine. Observatory, slowing the tempo, make up for pace with power, (my skeletal bass-shake in full effect), then whip up some gushing Vangelis electronics to a sinister head that builds like fear.
Fabric, of course, is always what you make of it, but with Zombie Nation, James Lavelle and Freeland still to come, I find myself in breakbeat heaven (and running out of words…)
Unfortunately, Zombie’s 40 minutes of impressive progressives, always hinting at ‘that track’, fell victim to a sound cut, and (part gutted at not satisfying my night-long chants of “ZOMBIE”), I retrace my footsteps into total immersion aka the sublime, ambient beat-mastery of Mr. Lavelle. Legend.
The signatory bassline from ‘How’s Your Evening So Far?’ speeds up and down, begging the question. But the night isn’t complete until cheers and whistles announce the arrival of Adam Freeland, vinyl in hand and beats a plenty.
An hour later and with a twist of ambiguity I recognise “it’s not me it’s the E talking,” and make a sluggish break for the morning tube – crippled, yet most definitely cured…
PD 05/03/07
Review: Sunosis @ Ginglik, 24/02/07
Walking into the depths of a converted, subterranean Victorian lavatory to find yourself at a bar watching re-runs of He-Man as people smoke Shisha pipes, you would be forgiven for thinking David Lynch had just grabbed hold of your puppet strings.
This is Ginglik, home of the best looking bar-staff this side of Rio, the friendliest bouncer in the world and right now, a soundtrack of deep, tribal techno courtesy of Little Shining Man. Within the dark red glow of the main room spirograph beams pierce the floor as glass-rimmed tea-lights outline the split intentions of a girl, raving from the waist up as the rest of her succumbs to a comfy leather sofa.
10.45pm. The queue snakes the steps up to the surface and the tempo begins to mellow – resident Kone-R showing a dexterity few DJs can harness, readying these beat monkeys for the ambient main event.
Enter Sunosis, the dynamic duo of Colin Welsh and Laurence Clack, taking the stage amidst the techno-clutter of laptops, sequencers and synths. As Laurence settles behind a hot-wired drum kit, Welsh lets loose a subtle vibrating loop melded with beating broken electrics.
As the set progresses, Clack’s cotton wool sticks ride the cymbals like surf up a pebble shore, immersing an audience who seem to sway in the current under the warm orange light. Signature tune ‘Leap’ hits all the right notes drifting my mind toward thoughts of starry festival skies – noting, en route, a sign that twins this place with Aphexville.
One fro-topped dancer cuts his arms adrift as more programmed drums kick in another seamless blend, and in no time at all, Ginglik’s techno beat hut is transformed into a chillage village, dappled in fairy lights. Inside, fans of Four Tet, Coldcut and Aphex Twin didn’t hesitate in shouting for more.
PD 27/02/07
Review: DJ Krush @ Cargo, 18/01/07
Regardless of how many tunes you have, how broad your tastes are or how keenly immersed within musical history you profess to be, there’s always something that slips the net. Something good.
With gale force winds rendering London a no-go-home zone and Bishopsgate like a scene from 28 Days Later, we rolled, pedestrian style, towards Cargo and the eye of the storm.
Forecasting a well-needed warm up, a quick stop at T-Bar saw the aptly named Andrew Weatherall whip up a sound wave which – Swiss-army surfboards at the ready – we rode till the crest crashed with a double-beat breakdown on the shores of Krush Island.
Donning our trip-flops we carve into the main room as ambient big beats lash at the punters, ram-packed like a can of mellow sardines, lapping it up. Then, on a crescendo current, a second wave breaks immersing minds in the depths of ‘Kemuri’, a massive down beating vibe rising high, then descending into the Niagara of falls.
The wizardry of DJ Krush lies in his mastery of variation, while maintaining a Vadim-style crispness throughout. Momentary scratches shimmer in the dark, ambient abyss like electric eels as the crowd sways. Then it bellows, inciting a mêlée of whistles, as this Japanese, beat-juggling juggernaut unleashes a salvo of triple-quad breaks that make DnB sound like a floppy drive in desperate need of some Viagra.
Amid this genius of contrast, salivation quickly turns to perma-dribble, as Krush drops more wax from the Shadow’s with the wondrous ‘Organ Donor’, then stirs up a finale hotpot of Chemical Brother beats and Sasha-esque effects.
After a set-closing wave of jazzy breakdowns, Krush passes the baton to DJ Saffrolla, who, having rocked Ginglik on NYE, keeps the sparks spitting from the wheels of steel in true Ninja style, while the modest, and non-English speaking main man embraces a torrent of wide-eyed fans as his turntables steam with exhaustion.
I’m told he rather enjoyed himself.
Join the club.
PD
21/01/07
Review: The James Taylor Quartet @ The Jazz Café, 17/12/06
There’s a distinct ‘I told you so’ in my friend’s tone as he hands me a golden ticket and proclaims, “You’re going to love this”. Frankly, it’s Sunday night, it’s nigh on Christmas and, with the promise of something new this JTQ virgin is already excited. My musical tastes are broad at the best of times, but somehow acid jazz and its numerous legends have slipped the net. Time once again to broaden those horizons.
It’s relatively quiet for the Café, but there’s no hiding the festive spirit as Christmas wreaths spill from the balcony and the man they call Snowboy lays down an impeccable 7” journey of funk as saxophonist John Wilmot swings by to say “hi” and collect a little something for his forthcoming charity marathon.
I feel a little out of my depth. These guys have been influencing everything and everyone since I was six years old, and even my chums return each and every year like its some sort of religion. But in truth, I’ve got that buzz, that feeling – like when you finally come across that piece of the jigsaw that fell out the box all those years ago. And in the shadow of a huge, white Hammond organ, a lone dancer taps her glass heels across the floor.
“This is E-Type Jag music,” my friend’s voice whispers in my ear, as an adrenaline rush of horns suddenly cools into a mellow Hammond riff. If he’s talking timeless British class then his finger’s on the pulse – and I’ll tell you now – that’s some beat. That drummer knows how to give ‘em rhythm.
Films and themes soon rule the roost, with Starsky & Hutch making the grade from a re-work repertoire spanning Mission Impossible, Goldfinger and Mrs Robinson, but, as a teen of the 90s, it’s the arrival of ‘Blow Up’ and its ‘Groove Is In The Heart’ melody that sees me dancing out of generational ignorance once again.
Honestly, before tonight a cliché-ridden, typecast review, constantly alluding to the Fast Show’s Jazz Club (…nice) was never far from my mind. However, indulging my naivety will have to wait, because if you love any of hip-hop or dance music’s current and wondrous branches, you can be damn sure to trace a whole forest of musical roots back here. In this sense, it’s rather apt that JTQ’s new album is called A Taste Of Cherry – because I certainly popped mine tonight.
PD 19/12/06
Review: Freestylers Live @ The Remix, Cargo 15/12/06
Tonight, Eddy Temple Morris welcomes the Freestylers to headline his monthly residency, The Remix.

With new album Adventures In Freestyle already showcasing a raw, diverse and highly accessible mix of beats and breaks (an underrated release – with the rare ability to appeal to pop-ravers, hip-hoppers, cross-over junkies and hardened breaks fans alike), the Freestylers set out tonight to light the touch-paper under the live dynamic they have been perfecting behind the scenes.

Like a pint of the black stuff, Cargo fills gradually, things really kicking off when Slim Jim drops in ‘Cherish’ by Ils, adding to a juicy selection of big-beat trippy breaks before raising the tempo with into DnB territory. Contented to play host, ETM chats and smiles his way to the decks [he’d be back later!] and slaps on some black wax to get the party started with a cheeky remix of ‘Dare’.

Not for long though, as hush descends into silence, then rips into the opening bars of Jeff Wayne’s ‘The Eve Of War’ as Aston and Co. slowly and surely draw their plans against us! The word ‘underground’ loops ferociously in the background as Clive Jenner lets loose the first banging beats of a blistering drum performance, Keith Moon style, as ‘Slammer’ does its name justice.

Front man MC Sirreal is quickly joined in his smiley hand-shake antics and vocal gymnastics by the soul-try Valerie M. They combine superbly, but the real treat lies in a fantastically arranged playlist, with new singles ‘Painkiller’ and the Spandau sampling ‘In Love With You’ sharing the standard with Raw As F**k favourites ‘Push Up’ and ‘Dogs & Sledges’.

‘Rock The Bells’ inspired ‘Old Skool Fool’ and ‘Could I Be Dreaming’ add breadth, while Pendulum collab, ‘Fasten Your Seatbelts’ just sends the place berserk. Ultimately, with more bangers than a sausage factory, this was one of the strongest set lists I’ve heard all year, DJ or live, and I’ve heard a few!

PD 17/12/06
Review: Breaking Ground @ SeOne feat. Pendulum (Live) , 02/12/06
After hosting the Breakspoll after-party earlier this year, Breaking Ground is back to showcase more boom, beats and bass. With a mouth-watering selection of talent from the very top of the DnB and Nu-Breaks A-list, and headlining a rare live set from Pendulum, Breaking Ground seeks to position itself as the home of the ‘cross-over’ scene.
Hype aside, there’s a definite sense of occasion in the air, a vast age-range of teens and old-boys echoing the roster’s broad appeal. With three main rooms, bars a plenty and a red-velour chillout zone making good use of SeOne’s 3000 capacity, quick manoeuvres are a doddle and we’re soon hustling the dance floor to the tune of Ctrl-Z in the Breaks Arena.
The big P are looming and after a quick recharge du Stella Artois (reassuringly costing a fortune) it’s time to beat our way to the front for the first trip to Another Planet.
A wave of electric blue bellows forth, our ambitious Aussies riding the crest as the Pendulum swings into action. Slam! There’s no time to fasten any seatbelts as the crowd whips into a “soundboy” storm, holding on tight as the band hold their colour.
Their chemistry of hardcore, metal and punk, alloyed with Breaks and DnB allows for an impressive transition to the live stage, sealing a short but spectacular set with their superb remix of the Prodigy’s ‘Voodoo People’.
The Stanton Warriors take over the reigns, then it’s back to room two to watch West London’s finest, the Breakfastaz, rip up the beats with another blinding set.
Spin-back remix wizardry from Deekline and an eagerly awaited Breaks set from DJ Friction round off a damn good night, but with FabricLive setting equally high and diverse standards, the cross-over crown is far from won.
PD 04/12/06
Review: Joe Driscoll @ Cargo, 29/11/06
With sheer numbers forcing the doors shut by 10pm, the brick caverns of Cargo echo and hum to talk of beatboxing, guitars and didgeridoos. Tonight’s showcase, the album launch of Joe Driscoll’s ‘Origin Myths’, has attracted a crowd as diverse as the main man’s talents, while the warm, kick-lit arches of Shoreditch’s finest nightspot set a perfectly ‘underground’ scene for the night ahead.
2-4-1 pints and dirty Jim Beam specials tickle our throats as Twirlin Merlin rolls out the turntables and simmers the crowd with his laid-back selection.
Projectors blaze time-lapses of Joe’s ‘Origin Myths’ artwork above the bar as his friend Mohammad welcomes the punters, flyers in hand and bigs up his boy - “He’s done thousands of gigs, but he’s real…Joe’d play in your bedroom if you asked him to!”
Further intrigued, we mosey into the main room as DJ Chico whips up some hip-hopping mash-ups. Suddenly his sidekick, Keigan, parts the crowd with some crazy-legs action, revealing hoards of lurking photographers with a clickity-click. It seems everyone here knows something big is coming.
Full Fat take the stage, with electro-rock-hop drops and orchestral turntablism, then there’s a brief hush before Mr. Driscoll hits the light beams and opens with cultured style. “Music taught me history”, he vibes, as London bops its head from the off.
A Coldcut-esque originality fires on all cylinders as he beatboxes, raps and strums, progressively loop-layering each riff and beat into a backing track and deep-weaving humour and personality between the threads. Every jam exercises a weighty individuality, ‘Nomad’ and ‘Origin Myth’ dropping particularly heavy, while the lilting tones of saxophonist James Moore – flown in especially from NY – combine perfectly with Joe’s political flavourings and exiled ambition to electrify the stage while the punters to soak up the sparks.
PD 02/12/06
Review: Grandmaster Flash @ The Jazz Café, 20/11/06
It’s Monday night, I’ve got four days of work ahead and there’s a bus strike in Northwest London (or so I’m soon to find out…). What’s the sensible thing to do? Get my ass to the Jazz Café of course!
Ah, but this is no ordinary Monday. Tonight number 5 Parkway welcomes a real pioneer, and I’m not talking CDJ1000s. Oh no. Tonight welcomes the Bronxmeister himself, Grandmaster Flash!
30 years on from the wildstyle, lamppost-powered block parties of old, having survived many misty-eyed tales of ‘back in the day’, the Grandmaster readies himself for another eclectic adventure.
Flash, aka, Joseph Saddler turned the tables on turntables, realising their potential as instruments in their own right. But, legacies aside, a packed-out Jazz Café crowd awaits with more than hint of anticipation, and, as meetings and greetings soon reveal, some high expectations…
With half and hour to go, it’s not hard to feel the funk, as DJ Pogo drops the gold of old - pure dope on plastic. Accompanied by the cheeky spits of MC Nabbaist, and back-up from DJ Colt, Pogo’s experience shows: a subtle scratch, a drop, and bang - a bassline! The mood is set.
Suddenly, from the balcony Flash descends, shadowed by DJ Demo. He soaks up the atmosphere like a thirsty sponge: “I’m gonna jam with you tonight. Block party style, 1976. But there’s two rules. 1. When I say throw your hands. You throw your hands! 2. When I say make some noise, you muthafuckas gotta scream!”
With the ground rules set it’s straight into the jams. The first bars of ‘White Lines’ drop heavy, his trademark ‘quick mix theory’ cutting devastating loops. In slams Gary Numan’s ‘Cars’, the Beastie’s ‘Brass Monkey’ and more mouth-watering breaks than teatime in a Kit-Kat factory. “Welcome aboard Disco Airlines, 1978.”
For the record collectors in the house, it’s a case of ‘name that break’ as the wheels of steel jump from track to track, black wax flying everywhere. Hands are duly thrown in the air, muthas are making noise, and as Arrested Development’s ‘People Everyday’ gets me toe-tapping at the bar, Flash continues to ‘Pump…Pump…Pump it up’.
However, an hour in, soaked in beer and struggling for space, the oldskool vibe starts to take a back seat as Flash slows the beat to a stop and declares his intention to “take it to the west coast”, promptly revelling in an easy-please repertoire from the usual Friday-night suspects. Dre, Snoop, Beyonce, M.O.P, House of Pain, etc, all keep arms flailing, but I can’t help but feel he’s playing too safe.
All in all, some solid party-based fun, but not the ‘g…good times’ some might have expected.
Now, about that night bus…
PD 22/11/06
Review: Aduna Fundraiser @ Fabric, 16/11/06
It’s easy to rave it up at the best of times, but when it’s for charity it’s just rude not too. There’s some cracking artists waiting for us inside, at the invitation of Aduna, an organisation that seeks to promote Africa’s vibrant and dynamic cultures to audiences in the UK.
Mid-queue, I whip out a bottle of champers, posh-pikey style, and the celebrations get underway. A few bubble-burps later, sneaking a set list from an equally bubbly bouncer, we descend on room one as Rachel Barton whips the crowd into shape with some lickin’ bass. It’s rammo!
Surfing the raver-waves I manage about three words to a page before Fatboy lets loose, smile-style, with a boutique of big beats. The tunes are fresh and wild, yet still capture the audience like the well-known bangers we come to expect from the ol’ Beach Master.
Rippy zig-zag beats slap up my ears from one of the capital’s best sound-systems, tasty and crisp, like salt ‘n’ vinegar. Cook kills the bass, then laces some Motown vibe through the gaps as the sample announces -“Here I am, Fatboy, I lost me”. Uproar!
…Then down, down after a ‘Good Times’ drop into some azzido style bass. Oooooooh Yeah!
More sounds fall through my mind: hints of ‘Flat Beat’, The Kinks, Booka Shade…but wait…what’s that coming over the hill??? It’s Damon Albarn!
The world’s a blur as, like a cross fader, I switch to room 2, the hum of Mylo’s signature ‘Drop The Pressure’ blending into Albran’s high fibre Afro-sounds. Reggae, hip-hop and funk jostle for airtime, then minds are truly blown as alias-masters 2D and Fatboy let loose a ‘Dirty Harry/Gangster Trippin’ mash-up.
The collaborations continue as Zane Lowe and Remi Kabaka join Damo and Cook, succeeded by an electro Bowie, Hot Chip outro set from the Filthy Dukes… “Let’s dance…”
PD 18/11/06
Review: Aim @ Koko, Mornington Crescent 08/11/06
Eleven years on, Aim’s trademark phat beats spill across the Wednesday night crowd. With new album ‘Flight 602’ hot off the press, Aim aka Andy Turner‘s nine-piece band play host to hip-hoppers, instrumentalists and ambienteers alike. Anticipation levels are high, after a funky-fresh DJ warm-up from Grippa (Atic) and mellow, atmosphere building support from James Yorkston and his foxy violinist.
The main man takes the stage - a bottle of Becks in one hand and a guitar in the other - and ‘let’s the funk ride’ with the namesake classic and ‘Concentrate’ early on. Diverting from familiar territory, it’s on with the new material, compiling shrill keyboards, Mylo-esque happy breaks, nursery-rhyme raps, strings, horns and the occasional big, dirty bassline.
Eclecticism is the name of this game, and true to form, Andy swaps his Becks for a can of the black stuff as the next tune drops. Reminiscent of Yonderboi, the emphasis remains on the jazzy instrumentals and super-chilled samples that attract so many to Aim’s studio recordings. Then ‘Northwest’ kicks in, building nicely into some ridiculously heavy breaks, smoothly wrapped in a wash of 90s dance-vibe, chill.
More big beats follow with ‘Birchwood’, then a series of tracks, featuring the occasional cackle of MC Kwasi. It’s becoming hard work at the front, with no sign of personal favourites ‘Loopdreams’, ‘Fall Break’ or ‘Original Stuntmaster’ - as the lead lady hollers ‘are you satisfied?’
The penultimate four tracks fail to hit the spot, although the audience bounce on through regardless, dragging towards a slightly hollow finale. Yet, as the first icy bars of ‘Cold Water Music’ fill the air to a predictable ovation, we are swiftly reminded of this man’s beat-making genius, a means of production which hits right, 90% of the time.
PD 10/11/08
Review: Masdafarai @ The Ritzy Café, Brixton - Friday 20th October 2006
Eighty yards from Brixton tube, amid the cool yet homely surrounds of the Ritzy Cinema Café, cutlery chinks like a snare over the crunch of pizzas and hum-drum of table chatter. Ushered between movie-postered walls, staff wait at the busy tables as we clutter the balcony and wait for the Masdafarians to finish tuning and tweaking and let loose some bass.
Moments later an electronic-voiced beat box in human form, fuelled with golden, pint shaped batteries, robotically signals the opening credits, directing eyes and ears centre stage. WanDan by name and beats by game, he rips into the Knight Rider theme all beeps and breaks, iced with the subtle horns of trumpet-master Lester B.
With all eyes front and jaws ajar, master-man Mr. Massie switches seamlessly between djembe rhythms and electronic effects, weaving his handmade chill within a digital dimension to create the sound that echoes their trademark cool.
A quick glance around reveals heads bopping, toes on some serious tap tip, and even a few familiar faces. Is that Tayo over there? A casual nod provides the answer.
WanDan reappears to turn up the buzz in the interludes, and as the atmosphere builds, each number witnesses change after change in the band’s laid-back line up.
Over a funkgasm from Mr. Starr’s bass guitar, luscious vocals from Miriam Lamen and Sarah Biscuit warm the soul on EP favourites 'Wondrin' and 'Get On With It', with the reggae vibe of Folknun casting a particularly sensual spell over the now captivated crowd.
Forming an integral part of the Lazy Habits collective, Masdafarai have, tonight, provided another formidable show, backed up with down-beat DJ breaks from Uglymowgli (sounds familiar??? - Ed) and ultimately conspiring, through their veritable cast of talents, to show how class and strength can be achieved through numbers. Very fresh!
(Check out www.masdafarai.com or the his link, WanDan and Lazy Habits through my friends...)
PD
Review: Breaks-Talent present ASCENDANCE @ Masque Bar, Barbican, 30/09/06
If you have ever wondered what it feels like to be at the forefront of something new, you really need to check this night out. Months of hard work and sheer dedication by the Breaks-Talent boys have snowballed even beyond their expectations, the results of which were seen, heard (and raved to) across the three packed floors of the Masque Bar.
Their self-set challenge to create a platform for grass roots DJing in all its forms saw vinyl monkeys from far and wide descend upon Barbican to flex their musical muscles, talk tunes, technique and Technics, and witness the revelation that is Hardcore Breaks.
Through the .. forum (breaks-talent.co.uk) over 20 DJs were invited to come and strut their stuff with net-radio headliners sharing the two main rooms, preceded by a two hour DJ competition. The result was over ten hours of musical madness.
Styles ranged from upfront hardcore breaks from the likes of Trix and Reckless; ragga breaks; dex n fx; old- and nu-school house; club classics; tech step; bad-ass jungle and breakstep from Genocide and ESO; liquid filth from B-T’s very own Drone, all sorts of DnB, and some full on oldschool rave from Brighton’s DJ Mystery… Hailing the return of a legend.
And that wasn’t all that was back. That long-lost oldschool party vibe, itself the inspiration behind the Breaks-Talent venture, had not only resurfaced, but, it seems, has found a new home.
Frankly, you know you’re onto a good one when your eyesight blurs before 9pm – so a big thumbs-up for the 3pm kick-off. By 12.30am, and with Moby’s ‘Go’ still ringing in my ear holes, this wide-eyed reporter made for the exit, wishing the B-T boys the best of luck.
Ravers rejoice. The good times are back!
PD
Review: UP,,,, @ Turnmills, 23/09/06
A mixed affair (no pun intended), which started somewhat sour when some idiot tried to pocket my spare tickets without adequate compensation. Fortunately a quick Jedi mind trick proved too much for the fool and I was soon inside, trying to employ the same tactics on the bar staff – “Four pounds is too much for this beer…too much…”
A quick glance at our GPRS (Geezers Playing Rateable Sounds) led us into room three where Chef came to our aid with some dirty electro bangers including a cheeky ‘In My Arms’ remix from Mylo to get the bodies poppin’, then swiftly encouraged us to ‘Get Your Hands Up For Detroit’, to which the crowd gladly obliged.
Slick manoeuvres saw me skip through the forest of booted beauties for another quick top-up, then back for the audible delights of Kriss Darang Vs Jnr J, whose energy behind the decks was matched in their selection of big drops, fancy filters and French funk as they teased our ears with ‘Around The World’ from Daft Punk.
Pondering on how a club can charge so much for beer but can’t afford a water tap, I sipped on my glass of ice cubes and headed off to hear Stonebridge spin some stonking acid piano numbers. Herd & Fitz, in room two, seemed to steal the bigger crowd and kept the momentum going, yet I couldn’t help noticing the growing emptiness on the dance floors as people struggled to make up their minds or simply left for home.
Overall, an hour or so of excitement put a positive tinge on what was a pretty mediocre affair, undermined by continuous flashbacks to studentesque piss-ups at Oceania.
Distinctly average.
PD 14/11/06
Review: Nathan ‘Flutebox’ Lee @ Ginglik, Shepherds Bush 08/09/06
For all those in the know, if you want to go ‘underground’ on the west side, you’ve got to go to Ginglik. Friday was no different. Treading fairy-lit steps, past a smiling, even cultured bouncer (yes I did say it) we are greeted by good-looking smiles and a free cloakroom. Who could ask for more? Well, those in the know realised there was something rather special on the cards tonight.

As a video log fire burned, Jenga towers collapsed and playing cards littered the tables in the games room, shisha pipes puffed their sweet-scented aroma beneath the low, Bedouin draped ceiling to a perfect soundtrack. RJD2’s ‘Ghostwriter’, intergalactic reggae from the Beastie Boys Vs Laurel & Hardy, funk classics and a massive Marley mix of Bob’s ‘Get-Up Stand-Up’ over Damian’s ‘Welcome To Jamrock’, prompting crowd-wide big-ups to DJs Dine & Desai. You feel me knocking..?

Then hush. An announcement triggers an anticipating quiet, and within moments the one-beam spotlight catches the shape of Nathan ‘Flutebox’ Lee. With a shy, even nervous demeanour, only offset by a knowing twinkle in his eye, his mellow woodwind tones suddenly provide a signature to this atmosphere, drifting above the shisha smoke and lapping at people’s ears.
Photo courtesy of Joe 'Grandmaster Flashgun' Plimmer
Then he flips it, blasting beat-box breaks, through his now thoroughly ‘urban’ flute, that ricochet about the room as the audience scrabble about the floor to find where they dropped their jaws. With a cheeky wink, the Masdafarai mellowdica then busts into the oh-so-familiar sound of ‘Watch Out Now’ by The Beatnuts to rapturous ovations, underlining how this mysterious young wonder can tread the line between the laid back delights of the Lazy Habits (represent!) and touring with The Prodigy.

He got the poison.

(Check out www.masdafarai.com for the Flutebox EP)

PD
Review: TDK Cross Central Festival Kings Cross, 26th - 27th August 2006
TDK Cross Central kicked like a mule.
Between silhouetted cranes the hum of bass poured through King’s Cross as beckoning lights licked the warehouse walls. In only it’s third year, the balance between corporate clubland and youthful freshness seemed well maintained, scarred only by an exploitative £4 a bottle beer tax. Fortunately, a roaring roster of fresh faces and old masters kept chins up, rightly deserving Cross Central its headline status on perhaps the biggest clubbing weekend of the year.
Elplate whipped us into Saturay-shape with 90s club classics and token two-step action in the Xbox foyer, whilst Mulletover took over @ The Cross. Party central, however, spilt through the thin-tented walls of Stage 1, where Bloc Party’s Kele rock & rolled his way from reggae-Radiohead to the obligatory Blue Monday with lady-killing style, swiftly followed by Primal Scream’s Jagz Kooner.
In anticipation of Sunday’s main event, OWTL’s Sasha edition scattered the VIP terrace as I blazed a trail towards Canvas 2 and mellowed-out to the Nightmares On Wax Sound System, where a man like Ease kept it real, chillin’ behind the wheels of steel.
A quick 40 winks later and with the Red Bull shakes in full swing, Sunday was upon us. Gritty, dark vibes from Vex'd soon made way for the Hexstatic AV party in the Ninja room…their three-way mash up between the various “Jumps” from Kris Kross, House of Pain and Van Halen doing exactly what it said on the tin.
One step beyond, and twitching like Chris Tucker in ‘Friday’, we made our last break for the XFM stage, where a live rendition of ‘In White Rooms’ from Booka Shade set the pace before the experience known only as Sasha…Oh yes!
PD
Review: Sziget Festival Obudai Island, Budapest 9th – 16th August 2006
With my flag in hand, a mind set to rave and a wallet full of ten-grand notes, we were welcomed to Sziget ‘Island’ with the same warm, open arms that had become the trademark of Budapest’s beautiful people. As the Danube lashed its sides, 80p pints readied us for a week of genre jiggling festivities, big names and native-newbies.
It seemed that all of Europe was here “to make party” and my torch on a string, was soon doing its thing to the opening beats of Sanyi & Pedro, an eclectic girl/guy DJ duo, born from the pirate radio days of the communist era: a context that makes Radio Caroline sound like a row-boat at Butlins.
Ambient midnight delights followed; from the super-chilled big beats and mosquito horns of the Realistics; to latino-funk from caracasUnderpop, and a whole estate of house from Hungary’s