Do raVe, Do luX, Don’t stain, Do dance, Do bass, Don’t fake, Do Dice, Do NoisE, Don’t sham. Do Music. ************************************************************
************************************Do Do Don't.
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MR FANTASTIC is so cool that when he was born he left icycles on Mother Nature's pubic hair. Quick as a Grandmaster flash he broke them off and sold them as lollies to passers by, many of whom complained about the flavour asking whether they had been put in cider? Disatisfied with the life as a Vice-cream salesman our Hero shed his striped garments, stripping down to his barest essentials, a cycle helmet, moustache, leather gloves and one solitary pair of pants that bore his name. To this day you can see him in those same pants, and if the musics right, out of them. ************************************************************
************************************************ MAMA JUNK crossed the track not to get to the other side, but to avoid the environmentalists. A pack rat from birth, her cot contained at any one moment anything from marmite crusts to chewed up pegs. As she gained age she gained discrimination, glass goods, tupperware, thingymagigs and loofahs. What finally gave her a purpose, chronic lumbago and a high pitched ringing in her ears, was the digging of the crates.Guided by an obstinate temperament, a soothing voice (much similar to that of Splinter from Ninja Turtles), and a gnarled looking index finger she gathered up more and more tasty vinyl treats…for your edification. Call her your Mama Junk, Funk, Creamy Breaks and filthy Electro House. Noisy. ************************************************************
************************************************ COUNT BRASSIC
Age: 207 and a half....The Count has dwelled in his crumbling, remote castle in the Carpathian Mountains for over two hundred long, dark years. From here he preys upon the local peasants and has performed unspeakable torments on their virgins...Now no longer eligible for housing benefit he has been forced to find a second career. Thankfully his predilection for 80's hip-hop, rocksteady reggae and balkan brass bangers has propelled him to the very top of the DJ ladder, leaving his competition (literally) for dead...He arrives in East London, un-content on a diet of eels and sketchy chicken joints. He is ravenous for blood and intent on 'mashin up tha place!' ************************************************************
************************************************ The Mighty Flan is an enigma. (with a penchant for Hip Hop, Ghettotech and Sleaze)
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