When we spoke last, it was – and how could it not be? – of rioting and the necessity of bottom-heavy dance music, of taking and being taken by times you do not choose. Of Lust for what has nothing to do with sex, or perhaps only remotely, and carrying yourself by getting carried away in what could be a cathartic fury and the restraints of a dance floor, a dance floor imposed by the sound of thought.
Motivated by an unsatisfied desire to dance to a complimentary and considered progression of DJ’s, coupled with a view to romanticise and mythicise the power of speakers and poorly lit spaces, sound of thought vehemently vowed never to complain again, but to only get even, and to get even with a certain sound as-well.
A sound of the political kind, an aesthetic but much more; those rare instances of walking tall and grinding and not cowering or self-pleasuring in feelings of being betrayed and lifted simultaneously.
Our sound implies that we don’t discriminate, do not even regulate, we don’t preach or tell you where it’s at, just where the music is coming from. Take what you will, just listen.
So please, do not vote for us as we will not deliver you even more (bass) nor highly choreographed hands in the air moments, but an acute desire to furnish the nights proceedings with bottom-heavy bounce and a contextually appropriate combination of flirtation and freedom of expression.