Auntie Flo’s album Birds Of Paradise was recorded in a fisherman’s shack on a beach in Goa. It incorporated natural sounds that the producer captured while travelling the world over. He’s now commissioned an suitably globetrotting set of remixes. 

Taking its name from a South American tree, Ceibo, was a body-moving synergy of field recorded birdsong, marimba and bouncing beat. Defined by a minor chord, Twin Peaks-ish melody, and big drum rolls. London via Hull’s Hardway Bros come in, keep the feathered friends and those dramatic strings, but convert the groove into characteristically chugging robo-disco. Arpeggiated and uplifting, swinging, wearing its Italo and EBM influences on its sleeve. Bringing those inspirations, banging, into the 21st Century, surrounded by clattering echoed replicant handclaps. 

Cobra tumbled and rumbled. Totally tribal. Its machines engaged in a drum circle ritual. Organic elements washing in waves. Los Pulpitos – Felipe Salmon from Dengue Dengue Dengue and Dirk Leyers of Africaine 808 – dub techno the track out. Transforming it into a delayed  drift of ricochets and hisses of steam. Bleeps belching like bionic frogs. 

Joy Mantra was jubilant, jumping jive. All interlocking idiophone intricacies and programmed counterpoint. Its B-line bearing an increasingly acidic squelch (I could hear a nod to Joey Beltran’s Energy Flash). Spaniard Orion Agassi reassembles the tune, so that it now rides rigid, retro drums, and carries a cut-up, collaged feel, recalling the music of M/A/R/R/S. Pounding, pummelling, stamping, stomping, but sonically late `80s. Introducing spoken samples and snaking synth arabesques. 

Paradise 23 started out very Wally Badarou. A tropical mid-tempo mover that mixed up flora, fauna, marimbas and congas. Ruf Dug working his magic, results in a rocking shot of warm, wonky, wobbly acid house. The maverick Mancunian peppering proceedings with blasts on his rave whistle. 

These Birds Of Paradise remixes can be ordered directly from Auntie Flo.