Tag Archives: disco


Any excuse…literally, ANY excuse to up these images of Giorgio Moroder is enough to warrant a blog post dedicated to the man and his machinery. From experimental subversive sounds, still with the trademark android polish, to most good records of the ’80s (Bowie, Debbie Harry and Phil Oakey spring to mind), Moroder did it. That mechanised Dilla looped (and subsequently recycled) refrain Jay Electronica found e-fame with? Moroder.

From yayo-frantic sounds to plodding robo-Turk reinterpretations, Giorgio is the godfather. Sonically, the whole Ed Banger clan know what time it is when Moroder gets mentioned, and by a lineage of influence, Giorgio birthed many a club soundtrack. But seriously, a great site like FACT can give you a more professional outlook on his best work (FACT mainman and Vinyl Factory honcho Sean Bidder took a chance on a certain chancer freelancer back in 2001 and it’s appreciated).

Sadly, you readers get props over here and a debt of gratitude, but shelling out to get a Getty image cleared is a costly step too far. Still. Despite the intrusive lettering, while the pot-bellied stripe tee studio gesturing image is good, the images below are a great deal more powerful. Charting the many moods of Moroder, the big sunglasses, razor blade chain black and white shoot’s killer, but the alfresco music making poolside is fresh too. Not sure what’s going on with the powder at the table though. This guy was bigger than even Mannie Fresh could fictionalise.

Good to see some images of the ultimate collaboration too – the Cizeta-Moroder V16T supercar, premiered in 1988 and sold between 1991 and 1995 at a $600,000 pricepoint. Pharrell would have a tough time topping that one on the premium dual-label stakes. Around seven were made, and Giorgio’s business partner, Ferrari dealer Claudio Zampolli apparently went to the USA after Cizeta Italy went bankrupt. According to Cizeta USA’s site, if you’ve got $100,000 for a deposit, you can still get one built. This FAQ breaks it down – but a slicker site would be appropriate. Bear in mind that a 1994 version was seized in December by United States Customs without even being on the road as a danger to the public. They can shift.

The two reasons for this Moroder-centric meandering is down to two recent books – the release of ‘And Party Every Day – The Inside Story of Casablanca Records’ meant some new additions to YouTube of unseen Casablanca Records reels from music industry conventions – can you comprehend the sheer volume of chop being consumed at those late ’70s shindigs? Check the otherwordly, seizure-inducing  ‘Battlestar Galactica’ montage at the end of the ‘Midnight Express’ teaser, and there’s a snippet of a Munich Machine ‘Let Your Body Shine’ promo too. Plus, just because…that oft-seen Casablanca footage of some robo-voiced studio time (“Moogs, memory boards and Moroder”) deserves inclusion too.

The second book is Taschen’s ‘Extraordinary Records’ in association with Colors magazine. 432 pages of coloured, etched and shaped vinyl oddities – Giorgio Moroder is an author of the book (well, he writes the introduction), and it even includes a Mastodon record in the mix. From Moroder to Mastodon in one easy step – this is a necessary release. For all his passion for synthesized sound, his passion for vinyl at its most tactile is evident too. Undisputed demigod status…


The blogging today is briefer-than-usual, as I’m abroad and rushed off my feet like a motherfucker. Looking around New York, one thing’s abundantly clear – from a publication point-of-view, things are a little flat. Whereas I’d usually be stuffing a bag with goodies from Universal News, it just wasn’t happening this time. Same with clothes. Sure, there’s some okay gear – got to love cheap ‘Lo and Champion,  but when the general choice is either lairy tee prints or potted histories in a button-down, I tend to go into autopilot. The food is as great as ever, but it’s strange to be in this city and not be impulse-buying from borough-to-borough.

Wait. Let me put ‘Jerusalem’ on the iPod for a second, because in terms of magazines, the UK is still banging out gems unexpectedly. Two of the most interesting, defiantly British in their approach yet hugely diverse in content are Barnzley’s ‘The Daily Terror’ – the paper wing of the ‘A Child Of The Jago’ brand and store; now on its third issue, and totally free, and ‘Dodgem Logic’ – Alan Moore’s new magazine, determined to resurrect the spirit of underground magazines.

There’s no point releasing the usual torrent of hyperbole with regards to Moore. Trying to keep it succinct, he’s one of the greatest living writers of any medium, but despite the Teflon cult legend status, he probably isn’t celebrated enough. There’s probably a whole ‘nother mini-essay to be written about the impact of ‘Watchmen’s smiley face on UK street culture in the late ’80s, which, just to tie these two publications together with a neat subcultural bow, was Barnzley’s doing during his stylist days.

The fact Moore dwells in Northampton rather than the nation’s capital gives him a healthy distance and reinforcement of my theory that being out of London can be good for the imagination – that’s celebrated in the magazine he’s just launched – ‘Dodgem Logic.’  “Colliding ideas to see what happens” it even comes with a CD of local bands. The sense of underground on offer here isn’t the naivety of the slew of rags from the ’70’s talking tokes and titties – it’s the whole timeline of underground press, and Moore provides and excellent essay on the medium’s history, as well as a strip illustrated and written by himself. There’s focus on comedy, politics and much more from some strong writers too. All for £2.50 too. And not a shred of chambray in sight either

‘The Daily Terror’ launched in late 2008 with some great content from Mr. Jason Jules, bringing back a politically minded underground feel, with a healthy dose of outrage in the mix – not dissimilar to the Jago attire aesthetic, and a punk spirit that’s authentically edgy without descending into mohawked fiver-a-photo Watty-lookalike plastic anarchy.

Issue two was okay, but wasn’t on par with issue one, despite some good Link Wray related content (in fact, issue one and the Jago lookbook are readable right here), but Chris Sullivan, of Wag Club, The Face, and any significant UK style movement or publication, brings the ruckus, particularly with a Studio 54 and disco feature – bear in mind, Sullivan actually went there rather than living vicariously through Google (like me) that alongside Lisa Robinson’s piece in the new ‘Vanity Fair’ could be part of an amyl and re-edit renaissance. The piece on Paul Hartnett proves that snapshots of street style might be rinsed by any clown with a G9 now, but it ain’t nothing new. A fine read, and best of all, free of charge.