“Fucking hell [pardon the pun] – where did you learn English, maan? In Sacramento?”
Hier check out Hipster Hitler.
This afternoon, while watching a documentary about Texas (something so detached from our interests it might as well be the outer rim of the dark side of the dark side of the moon) we came upon this fiftysomething former wealthy agent for juridical literature (something D*ruffalo is VERY interested in), who turned convict, then ex-convict, found Jesus and now helped other convicts just released from prison to find their way. Needless to say, Jesus played a major part in the consulting. There were psalms, weird handshakes, lots of amens, and very determined gazes.
And then, from out of the blue, there was a thought. A thought that can only occur to people who believe in the force from above as told by Holly Johnson, and not as told by Jerry Falwell. Who keep the faith the boys up North did, because you could dance to it, it was true, and it was moving. A thought that can only occur to people who know well enough that their very own gospel wasn’t the only truth, and thus if telling it from the mountain, the mountain should not be too high, and the valley not too low.
And the thought was:
If there was a truly final proof that God does not exist, and all of it was a lie, no use denying, what would people do who base all their doings and thinkings on nothing else than just the written word of Bible, The Koran, Siddhartha Gautama?
Who love and kill in the name of, who praise and sing whilst doing so, who devote and base their whole existence on something that now, hypothetically but officially, does not exist?
To put it the D*ruffalo way, they would FREAK OUT, but not the Chic Organization Ltd. way.
Finally, Groover Klein, one of the most inspirational forces behind this blog, one of our first favoured DJ’s and a man without whom we would be missing so much good stuff, has made a mixtape.
Whether Milk!, Mannheim, in the very early golden moments of the nineties, where he almost single-handedly brought the joys of Nu Groove and the like to the German South West, Mayday III or later Boogiebar where he set new standards: Groover Klein delivered more goods than anybody else.
Groover Klein was always at the edge of things and deeply rooted in the tradition that made this edge possible in the first place. He loves melody and motion. He paints the fine stuff and the big strokes. He is the number 1 boss DJ and he is our idol.
Finally here is one of his once every three years mixtapes.
We love it like we love him.
We did mention the guys from 100 Limousines, didn’t we. And we recommend what they do without a whiff of hesitation.
The new Model 500 on R&S, ex-James Bond-villain-Metalhead Goldie collaborating with Prince Harry, …the world is hilarious. We can’t even be bothered to link this absurd shit, so fucking lazy is Druffalo.
…Mr. James Bond
Derrick May live tape from 1993. Mayday! Long ago.
Between heated debate over DC pulling “Batman: Holy Terror” and directing the latest Gucci ad…has FM lost it?
We still love him like mad. However, we feel that Friendly Fires have lost it. Leave Depeche Mode to Depeche Mode!