Some have said that this ‘podcast’ is obsessed with three things. 1. cocks, dicks and other flaccid bits of skin purporting to be penis like. 2. anything french and 3. ribbons and scars. Well, in the truest sense of the word ‘obsessed’, we present to vous with show 7, la verge de Satan, which roughly translates as the ‘the penis of Satan’. Actually, we kid you not. There is actually a song called that in the show. Satan’s dick. And we didn’t write it ourselves. And yes, it is probably not safe for work, or miners. It gets dangerous[…]
OK, this show may have taken some time to come together, around a year perhaps. It was originally recorded in 2011. I could talk about the two lost hard drives, the insurmountable battles with plugs and an innate fear of the colours red and black. That however would be excuse making at its worst. Just enjoy the show, this time entitled ‘critical reflection’ which features some fresh tape findings from preachers in Australia, a plea to make yourself rich from some ‘sexy’ Americans with rhyming names and some just plain creepy country music. There is also the first new music for 2011 from[…]
So, in lieu of DJ Ringfinger getting of her/his lazy arsehole and providing us with some more of their fractured, broken beats (phat or thfin, either way), the boffins here at fabrication de bruit headquarters have found a way to podcast old shows that were first broadcast on some community radio station in Sydney, back in the dark ages. These podcasts, which quite rightly should have been forgotten, destroyed, irradiated, or otherwise deleted, represent the formative stages of our development, when we could scratch and mix, but still not walk or removes faeces from our own bot-bot. So, enjoy this[…]
Episode 4, entitled ‘Dank u wel’ was recorded using records I bought in the Nederland. no real theme, just lots of dutch. And yes, there is some dutch comedy in here as well. Dutch. Comedy. I have no idea what they are laughing at, but apparently in Dutch, it is fucking hilarious. There is some strange stuff in here, plus the usual array of original beats, loops and improvised underscore all by DJ Ringfinger and his ingresso libero quintet. And for the trainspotters amongst you, the translation of the picture above is Tintin no sex? Come on!