Scorpion violente


Out of stock

Untitled maxi-dance 12″, first pressing 500, second pressing 300. 52 LAST COPIES out of stock

20jazzfunkgreats : Scorpion Violente’s Untitled 12, out in Bruit Direct Disques is one of the most brutal packages to recently arrive at 20jazzfunkgreats bunker. It contains 3 awesome slabs of cold war psy-ops, martial nihilistic mechanics and cyborg bass boost that will fulfil all your dirty proto-NWD dreams. Rome Violente is our choice, it does indeed sound like the Flirts’ ragged, switchblade touting cousin, the one who crawled from the gutter after being raised by mutant vermin. Or P.I.L.’s submission for the Escape from New York theme, sadly intercepted by U.S. Border Police before it reached the hands of our man John Carpenter. Minimal jacking music at its undead best, fear the city.

Still single ~ Doug Mosurock : New mindless electro minimalism from France, part of the whole crew with the logo (I suppose it is called “La Grande Triple Alliance Internationale de l’Est,” an umbrella operation for A.H. Kraken, the Anals, the Feeling of Love and related parties). It took a few listens to grok whether this duo was taking the piss, but there is a method here, even if it’s one that sets the drum pattern apart from the speed of the notes played on the synth, either to disorient, or to show the listener that they don’t know/don’t care how to make it work like everybody else. That little difference is what makes “Roma Violente,” a long-ish, static disco-minimal melody into the serious track that it is. Examples on the flipside are more spare and with somewhat of an industrial bend – “Mi Pute Mi Soumise” marches along with distortion and death in tow, while “Ich Kann Nicht” delivers the Germanic, stark yelling and murderous shocks you might expect from such a title. Another great record from B-D that doesn’t fit neatly into any one style or category.

Etrange Ressac ~ Max dembo : C’est le duo dance version « Grande Triple Alliance de l’Est »: faussement technique, vraiment niqué. Nos deux gaillards aux pseudos de mercenaires cuvent de l’électronique pornographique dans un coin d’architecture. S’obstinent sur des notes, des combinaisons. Montent le son car il faut que ça sèche net la communication de proximité. Ils font ça avec l’aplomb de survivants balafrés mais la froideur affichée n’est qu’un gel psycho-activé: en leur for intérieur ils bouillonnent de crasserie punk à la bière chaude. Sous leurs ongles noirs ils font des miracles, catapultent un énorme night club suitant dans un PMU sordide de rase campagne, séquestrent le taulier à coup de jack et font péter les réserves dans une volée de tables. Même dans ton bunker ils viendront te chercher. Tu les entends. Ils sont là. Scorpion Violente.


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