Benny B

Well-known member
Chronic Law bringing it AGAIN?!


He's made me come round to NFT Drip riddim as well



Some good summery rhythms about this year actually, better than last year's crop. I've come round to Samba now too.
 

Benny B

Well-known member
I don't particularly want war tunes at the moment, to go against the general thrust of this thread, summer 2022 is sounding good right now
 

Benny B

Well-known member
All of these Bandulu tunes are insane 🤯
I'm in love with the first verse of Gage's melanin, there's no way I could transcribe it but it ends in BUMPER TI BUMPER and I don't even like Gage usually. I love all the versions actually, absolutely magical riddim.
 

Benny B

Well-known member
On a similarly gruesome tip, some guy has been accused of abusing and murdering his cousin and her 4 children recently in Jamaica, so 10Tik's put out this child molester fi dead song 😬

 

wektor

Well-known member
why was the crowd depressing, @wektor?

Most of the crowd must have been lads and lasses who had taken their pingers in the queue, nervously asking strangers about where to go to find the best techno in london.
We came in and it was crowded as fuck.
Tourists, from within England and otherwise, of different ages and ethnicities, but first of all, confused.
Lil C was warming everyone up semi-successfully, even though her mix was rather boiling - very stiff, the average fabric enjoyer these days.

Then, Gavsborg and Shanique Marie entered the stage on the other side of the dancefloor.
The venue lit up with warm, bright coloured lights, causing peaking lads retinal damage.
For the next hour, all the heavy but crystalline dancehall tunes were sounding out, with Shanique Marie toasting on top, unfortunately with not much engagement from the crowd either.
Apart from the group of 10 or 15 shades-wearing highest attendees from the west part of England next to the stage who were howling and cheering without paying much attention to what is playing and in what rhythm, minds and bodies of most were simply too shocked to respond in any way at all.
No colder behaviour than standing in the middle of the dancefloor, sipping your 330ml heineken you have purchased for eight quid, high as fuck, not being able to emit a single utterance.
Only instinct left at that point, was that you should stand close enough to some gals for them to smell your pheromone perfume you bought the day before, especially for this big night out in a legendary London club.
A tired staff member passes by you, his flashlight sliding over your hilfiger skinnies and your best shoes.
Big letters on his t-shirt read:

DON'T BE A CREEP
 
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