Also the gruff 45’s collector must now and again lay the club down or rather not even let it out of the bag. This is order that the wild soul doesn’t shrivel from too much marching. With compositions between euphoria and thoughtfulness belongs Ian Simmonds to those of a discreet and sweet- mannered crazy, who is more apt for a social case worker to rip off an extremity than do something against his own sensibilities. To feel is more important than to understand, because he who feels learns to understand! With casual meticulousness and evoking atmosphere, between real songwriting and track analysis Ian has found new hope for the club culture. You just want to hug his bless-ed soul for his witching “head music”, which isn’t aimed at the editorials, but rather the searching out the wide and multifaceted dance floor depths. The function is exactly that as in the church cellars, sunlit forest clearings and also pretzel twists on captivating sofas with liters of red wine which can be savored to the full. A The Wendelstein Varations An epic; monumental feathery jazz structure allows plastic palm fronds to bloom. Tom Waits poetry affine shortly before the pull of whisky, paired with lonesome illusions of melody fragments, meets house ingredients for that noted feeling of community between utopia and reality. Perfect to rock to in a sea without a shore yet well in the grasp of the long reach of sense and sensibility. B1 Whos Blues Original Escapism for the fall! Film music without the film, which one doesn’t need because the music IS the film. A complete artwork in the overstuffed central of house and downbeat, infused with thoughtful ingredients from afrobeat, jazz, blues etc. and Simmons-esque imaginativeness. An authentic style coordination which is so intertwined that the fruitages of ever favorites remain in the record collection. B2 Whos Blues Soulphiction Remix A toned scissors cut for the limber, art with unbelievable depth, at the same time from sun and wind caressed which could measure the heavenly bodies if sonics were telescopes. Music from a presence which it so embodies, that the machines with which it is crafted must be comprised from living cells.
