the little silver box

thirdform

pass the sick bucket




Truss used to hammer this one before he was more well known. absolutely scuzzy acid. nothing like it, proper braineater.
 

thirdform

pass the sick bucket

ergh i hate this hippy shit. It's a bit funny you're not receptive to squarepusher/mike dred though, put out some serious acid.



new album looks like he's also going back to fangling those boxes


i guess this is where we differ. i am more interested in the capabilities of the language than the culture inherently (which has long since been codified into an an illusory bourgeois spectacle feigning community, just like hip hop, if not even more so.)
 

thirdform

pass the sick bucket
By 1994, the stereotypical junglist was a head-nodding, stylishly dressed black twentysomething with hooded eyes, holding a spliff in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Out went all the trappings of rave – the woolly hats and baggy T-shirts, the white gloves and fluorescent glow-sticks. Despite the sauna-like humidity of clubs and raves like Telepathy, Innersense and Sunday Roast, junglists came encased in black flight jackets (MA1, MA2, Puffa, etc.). For a while there was a fashion amongst the more chic black junglists to carry handkerchiefs, in order to dab away every last drop of perspiration and preserve the aura of aloof coolness. Sweat symbolizes rowdy communion, everyone mucking in together, shedding inhibitions and self-consciousness. The new taboo on sweat signalled that the scene’s emotional temperature had dropped. By 1993, eye contact was disappearing from the London hardcore scene; bonhomie gave way to a surly vigilance. Smiling (in black hip-hop culture, often considered a signifier of servility, a desire to please whitey) was replaced by the skrewface, a pinched sneer expressing disgust and derision.

What happened here? As hardcore evolved into jungle, it shed rave’s emotional demonstrativeness and gestural abandon, which had originated in gay disco and entered white working-class body-consciousness via Ecstasy. In its place, a ‘black’ ethos of self-control and mask-like inscrutability was embraced by white and black alike. Paralleling and/or catalysing this shift were changing patterns of drug use. ’Ardkore’s nudge-nudge references to ‘rushing’, its sniggery E-based innuendos, were replaced by roots-reggae soundbites about sensimilla, ganja and herb. There’s a sense in which the disappearance of the Ecstasy vibe allowed young black Britons to enter the rave scene en masse and begin the transformation of hardcore into jungle. Ecstasy’s effects of defenceless candour are probably too risky a cultural leap for the young black male, who can’t afford to jeopardize the psychic armour necessitated by the very different black experience of urban life.

But this prospect dismayed a faction of diehard gabba fans for whom hardcore is anti-rave in spirit. This pan-global network of dissidents includes Nasenbluten (German for nosebleed), a terrorcore trio from Newcastle, northern Australia, who are on a crusade to bring back ‘quality gabba’.

‘It serves Leah Betts right, and Anna Woods too,’ sneers the band’s Mark Newlands, referring to England’s and Australia’s famous Ecstasy fatalities. ‘I never, ever saw hardcore as happy E music. I’m not a happy man, y’know. I’m always grumbling. I’m an absolute turd … The original Rotterdam gabba, stuff by Euromasters and Sperminator, was cold and unpleasant, and it was great. We called our double-EP “100% No Soul Guaranteed” as a riposte to all those people who say gabba is monotonous, inhuman, soul-less. Of course it is! It’s supposed to sound like blast furnaces! In Newcastle, all our relatives work in steel foundries. We’re just trying to reflect our environment.’

Such was Nasenbluten’s sense of betrayal by Paul Elstak’s move towards happy gabba that the band recorded the infamous ‘Rotterdam Takes It Up the Ass’. The title phrase is sung to the ‘doo-dah, doo-dah’ melody of ‘Camptown Races’, but because the track sampled copyrighted material by Elstak and turned it against him, Nasenbluten decided not to release it for fear of being sued. ‘We don’t want our label Bloody Fist to go under,’ Mark told me, ‘’cos other Australian hardcore bands depend on us.’ Artists like Embolism, a fourteen-year-old kid with a ‘real chip on his shoulder, you can tell he’s probably gonna grow up to be a serial killer’, whose ‘This Means Fucking War’ EP was released by Bloody Fist in 1995.

these two contradictory personalities are incapsulated in me in a nutshell. the white guttertrash and the stylish inner city kid. that's why i see jungle, gabba and acid as tapping into the same sorts of energy fields.
 

jorge

Well-known member
enjoying loads of the tunes been posted already, that elephant man one is class!

i like the way the 303 expands and contracts in this one, within the loop itself and throughout the track as the filter opens and closes, fairly meat n potatoes acid track which is often the best place for it tbf

i think i like the 303 best when its used as a percussive type sound with a touch of melody here n there

 

Slothrop

Tight but Polite

Has anyone on here actually worked with the real thing? I got to have a go with one at an exhibition type thing a couple of years ago and the sequencing interface is so baffling that I couldn't get a noise out of it until a kindly old synth geezer came over and bashed in a couple of patterns for me...
 
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