Lord Tusk on MIC. With a five track E.P. of Electro-Steppers. Ruff, raw, liberally Lo-Fi. Grainy, Bokeh visions. Ranging from 80 BPM, growling, drum-machine Dread (Beyond Limitation) to more brightly-keyed Jack Trax (Elevation). The uptempo Champion Lovers pitched somewhere between Afrika Bambaataa`s Death Mix and Marcus Mixx. Block party beats tumbling into one another, like bodies on a heaving dance floor, while Cold Wave synths take Ultravox`s Herr X down the Disco. On Don`t Be Shy sub-bass bangs the inside of your head like bell. Brain throbbing. Expanding. Contracting. In rhythm. Countered by pizzicato, as its “stalker” vocals become more and more anguished. Like Chocolate Industries` Personal Space fucked up and lost in the dark of a warehouse rave. Shyne Eyed Gal is a sweetly, near falsetto sung, nod to Barrington Levy`s Dancehall Classic. Imagine Sugar Records` Winsome with the lights turned off and the echo turned up. Electronics like stretched koto strings.
You can order a copy of Communique in your preferred format directly from Lord Tusk himself.