★★★★☆
Mighty Mouse’s disco ball keeps on spinning, increasingly open to interpretation and moving further from the flares and chest hair dictionary definition. To those saying he’s losing sight of the goal, it’s all about finding likeminded bedfellows that may not be disco by design but grab the space between the lines, opportune reminders of this push and pull revealed by the ilk of Drop Out Orchestra and Baunzz!
Hence why there are bunches of rave pianos stumbling into the wrong room but making new friends, and “Electric Moonshine” going Balearic. There’s electro-pop whose age you can’t tell, punk funk looking at itself in the glitterball’s mirrors, psych-funk throwdowns, acid awakenings, pure house… all chugging away ‘til dawn with enough glitter and gold about them to fit the bill. Egged on by its cosmic cousin (including Lindstrøm’s supreme voyager “I Feel Space”), a dot-joining lovability rubs off so you’re hugging strangers, as sought by the open invitation to informal, unprejudiced partying from either someone’s living room, a convenient patch of land no-one’s using, or a basement full of old or old-sounding vinyl (Barrabas, Prins Thomas remixing Surahn). Meanwhile the purists/snobs might wanna head to Auxiliary Tha Masterfader or Rainer Weichhold to satisfy their terms and classifications.
More about the solace found in the physical auditorium/big top, than the stereotype in platform shoes, it’s an all-in welcome with some disco in it, going the distance while the true colors don’t run.
File under: Horsemeat Disco; Psychemagik; Secretsundaze
