So here it is, the first installment of D*ruffalo’s new show at Berlin Community Radio. To be continued!
The suave lads pictured above were about to rave the Soju Bar for one of the memorable Love Fools D*ruffalo parties, only this time in full orchestral strength. They are Editor 1-6 of this beloved magazine, and as DJ massive they call themselves the D*ruffalo Hit Squad, of course, and most of the many clubs they played are no longer in existence (but there is no connection!).
Since the launch of D*ruffalo in early 2007 it was always clear that writing on matters that matter was one thing, but playing the platters that matter the other. To capture the mayhem of the D.H.S. in action for perma-accessible purposes, the Druffmix series was conceived, a sheer endless archive of mixes consisting of probably every record you ever wished you owned (or absolutely did not). It would be easier to list the sounds the crew left unmixed, but the sounds they used sure sounded likey they never sounded before (and after). Pure legend.
As they were recorded, the last two entries in the archive, a guest slot of three D.H.S. members confusing the radio station Twen FM and its listeners, were not planned as a last chapter, or even to turn out prophetic. And yet they came to be, as it was commonly decided in one of the notorious D*ruffalo conferences that the Druffmix series should be laid to a most deserved rest. Fear not, the archive will stay open for your listening pleasure. Promised! BUT, there will be no further installments. No further Druffmixes. Not anymore. It’s over. Or is it?
No, it’s not.
The Druffmixes will not be continued, but the D*ruffalo Hit Squad will go on. They just have to, don’t they?
As fresh challenges and options were discussed and negotiated, the top old boys pictured above finally settled for a new endeavour, and a new home. It’s called Berlin Community Radio, and it’s a good thing. In the very near future, the D.H.S. will host an typically irregular show there, either recorded live at the D*ruffalo headquarters, the station’s studio, or at some fearless club night. D*ruffalo legal department signed already, there is no way back. Welcome to the sound of D*ruffalo, the next chapter.
As ever, expect the unexpected. We drink, you dance. Never surrender, and dial D* for D*ruffalo.
By this time sometime soon, the Druffalo Hit Squad lands on a covert Druffmix mission to bring the band back together.
All we hear is Radio Gaga Radio Googoo Radio Gaga
all we hear is Radio Gaga Radio Blahblah
radio was new D.H.S. someone still loves you
D*ruffalo Hit Squad on Twen FM Radio
Berlin: UKW 88,4 MHZ
Potsdam: UKW 90,7 MHZ
THIS SATURDAY 16 FEB 2013 – 10.pm CET – 2am CET. Twen FM is gonna have the D*ruffalo Hit Squad live in the studio! Tune in and watch them dancing!
Enjoy ugly ducklings trying to dance to undanceable tunes. Enjoy us telling our adventures of the past 6 years.
Soju Closing…last Saturday
2.10 h — Confetti pours from the ceiling, halting any record to a scratch… Free Schnaps …The four fisted maschine called IcaKay takes the stage in an absolutely over-crowded club and drops this to their sexy unsuspecting victims:
Justus Köhnke – Feuerland
Greg Wilson – Hardcore Boogie Edit
Patrice Rushen – Number One (Long version)
Bob James – Brooklyn Heights Boogie
A Tribe called Quest – I left my Wallet in El Segundo
Naughty by Nature – OPP
Beats International – Dub be good to me
Beatmasters – Ska Train
Joe Smooth – Promised Land
Robin S – Show me Love
Paul Simon – Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes
Paul McCartney and the Wings- Silly Lovesongs
They smashed it.
Just imagine 2 tons of confetti
It was really cringeworthy how print and web media desperately tried to balance all their readership’s needs when compiling their end of the year polls (and the bill paying investors needs as well), without really leaving a statement to think about, or a just a vision to track. So ok, all bases were covered, you have your Disco clientele satisifed, your Techno followers at bay, and so on. You have it all neatly spread, over categories like breakthrough artist, best track, best live act, and so on and so on. You read a lot about a plethora of artists, but in the end you were as clueless as before about what really mattered.
We at D*ruffalo Headquarters think that this is not the way to go. So we gathered our observations and set out to agree on ONE artist extraordinary enough to win ALL categories, while keeping all the stylistic developments, global dancefloor needs, and socio-cultural discourses in check. And not only that, we looked for something that might be leading the way in terms of style, gender, and gentrification politics, and a trend that will rule the next year(s).
Of course we found it.
And here it is:
Special thanks to Roger S, who pointed out the switch to flip. Now there is LIGHT!
Some of our friends do believe that old George Lucas was somehow inspired by this evil being and the real-life Imperator is actually a resident (some say professional spook) at Hamburg’s Atlantic Kempinski Hotel. Be it. The “man” is a disgrace. Plus he is cast iron proof of the musical misery-desert most of us where surrounded by whilst growing pubes. Germany’s yellow press treating him as some kind of cute old yet commendable icon is nothing short of actually believing pisshead Hasselhoff’s bad breath or those-gits-from-Hannover’s whistling blew away the Berlin wall. Meeting fellow half-wit Erich H. has the historical significance the magnitude of any-given-member-of-westlife’s daily toilet-routine. Mumbling alongside once deserving german rap-display-dummy jan delay is not worth a single peseta and we will not start over this “cello”-Tune that was apparently celebrated by every Bauer-sucht-Frau-underpart this side of hindu kush. He is as much engenious nutter as we are die-hard Steve-Aoki-Aficionados.
We love Disco. And we do admit to listen to german radio-station SWR1 quite a lot (“eins gehört gehört”) due to the (for the most part) appaling resemblance of their playlist to ours. But them airing this shocking display of clue- and tastelessness left us speechless. Well – not quite.
This is just SO us!