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Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
When you call yourself DJ Hell, it's obvious you want to let your listeners know what to expect. Sure, you could be plundering the Coldplay back catalogue, but you know whatever you're getting yourself into, it's not going to be easy listening. Thankfully, Helmut Geier doesn't seem keen on Chris Martin and his merry band of Tories, his brand of Hell is one of chaotic, punk-laced electronica; and his label, International DeeJay Gigolo Records, is a perfect expression of his sound.
Founded in 1996, the label was a driving force in the sound that became known as electroclash. From upstarts such as Fischerspooner and Miss Kittin & The Hacker, to stalwarts like Jeff Mills and Dave Clarke, Hell's DIY label gained ground quickly, and established itself as Germany's most successful label of its kind in the new century. Celebrating the very best of its raw energy, Øhm Sweet Øhm plugs into the abode of the damned for a fiery helping of throbbing electro. Straight from Mr Hell's own inferno, this is International DeeJay Gigolo Records.
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In the 12 months where fun got banned, nostalgia for packed dancefloors, lasers and big fish little fish dance moves has peaked; the sound of British hardcore being reproduced by kids who weren't even a glint in their parents' massively enlarged pupils, and hipster Instagram accounts ramping up the likes with crackly VHS footage. It's easy to forget, though, that there was huge prejudice at the time toward these raves and their music; and from the dance music community itself.
They say time heals, and for the hedonistic sound of hardcore, it's a nailed on truism; its sheer joy as infectious as it was back then, without any of the unnecessary and unpleasant elitist sneering that accompanied it. Through soaring piano riffs, falsetto vocals and skipping breakbeats, Fresh Soup's resident theme fan takes us on a blistering ride back to the mid-1990s, laying out the irresistible sound of 'Ardcore '94. You know the score.
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Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
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