Ace Berlin house, with a chronic case of the Disco Jerks.

Dazzling house-disco cut-ups, saucily steeped in soul classicism.
All-body coitus interruptus, dozens per minute.

The twitching, mangled corpses of Lemon and Tamiko Jones, left for dead by Frank Timm on the altar of cut-and-loop disco-house. Brilliant, rooted, and ecstatic.

A bass-bin trembler from the surefire doyen of nu disco-house.

A walloping one dozen tonics of close-cropped, spasming, blissed-out boogie abstraction, for dancin and prancin. Zinging pick-me-up blends of forensic, gleeful, sleight-of-hand skills and disco connoisseurship, school of Ron Hardy.
It’s a must.

Swingeing Millsian techno from the geezer formerly known as ∑. Nothing extraneous. Lethal.

Well-crafted, feeling variations of bass, UK garage and house, drum and bass and the rest.

Lest we forget.
Torsten Profrock’s occult homage to UK garage is one of the gems in the HJ label catalogue. It’s one of our own handful of favourites.
Two-step waylaid in the scuffed, churning, sub-heavy terrain running from his Chain Reaction days to Monolake; mysteriously entangled with the distressed tracks of old Ugandan 78s.

We love this film. Warmly recommended.

Ace dubwise techno.