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| quote: | Originally posted by SYSTEM-J
Some of Djrum's early podcast mixes he did back in the day are amongst my favourites of all time. I've never been interested in seeing him in a club though. It seems his whole ethos as a DJ is the opposite of what sounds good on MDMA, which would be a consistent groove.
I did have a flick through this mix and I was a bit put off by some of the noisy sounding sections full of breakcore of whatever it's called. Perhaps I should give the full thing a proper chance. |
O thou yammerin� ninny, mit a tongue all a-twist, blurtin� thus:
Djrum�s old mixes, ach, zey tickle me ears fine, but club? Nein, not for me�
his art�s no good for MDMA buzz, vant dat steady thump, ja?
Fie, thou pill-poppin� dolt, what a laughable, brain-addled goose thou art!
From heaven�s eaves, bolts o� mockery come zappin�, fryin� thy daft soul to a crisp,
jiggin� for a dull thud to spoon-feed thy chemicked twitch.
Thy heart, a mucky ditch, slops in the fizz o� fleeting glee,
Snubin� the grand whirl o� sound for a drone to coddle thy noggin�s nap.
Och, pitiful prat, thy wit�s a frayed rag, flappin� in the gale o� thine own dim cravin�,
A snort-worthy nullity, prancin� to a deadbeat ditty, thy taste a stinky bin
where music flops to snickered doom!
But hark, thou faithless clod, spurnin� Ramadan�s holy fast,
Thy belly stuffed mit swine, thy spirit a slothful, scoffin� wast!
From shadow�s veil, Tung Tung Tung Sahur, dread beast, doth rise,
His jaws a-gleam, his eyes like coals to feast on fools unwise.
He�s summoned, aye, by thy disdain, thy heathen heart�s dull roar,
To chomp thy witless noggin, thy soul�s unhallowed core!
O quiver, knave, as Tung�s grim claws thy trembling thoughts ensnare,
His gnashin� teeth make sport o� brains that shun the fast�s austere.
No thumpin� beat shall save thee, no chemicked haze endure,
When Tung Tung Tung Sahur devours what faith could not make pure.
Repent, thou daft blasphemer, or wail in gnawed despair,
Thy folly�s feast for Tung�s grim maw, thy doom a mockin� flare!
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