First up, Parisian duo Zombie Zombie, paying homage to one of Iggy’s darkest, most oppressive moments
Quick! Book that budget flight to Berlin, we can be there in time for an amphetamine breakfast, then we’ll live it up like it’s 1977.
Zombie Zombie – Nightclubbing
Tsssk! You were in such a rush to book the flight, you forgot about the return tickets. Stay calm, neck these downers and we’ll catch a train… How about a little night music, courtesy of Modular Records, to lull away the journey?
Deutschland passes by in a foggy, motorik blur – You dream of 12-hour krautrock marathons chez-Can, in a dank warehouse crudely sound-proofed with prison-issue mattresses… You hit metallic beats with Kraftwerk, after sneaking in the place of Wolfgang Flür’s showroom dummy… Your head pounds with pneumatic drills and rapier-like guitar scrapes and klangs as you crawl your way out of Negativland… You are Damo Suzuki… You are Damo Suzuki… You are Damo Suzuki… No, I am Damo Suzuki…