Electric Warrior

Mambo Sun

Pearson Sound returns to his Hessle Audio label with 'Hornet', an 808-laced club workout which combines metallic drones and precision engineering for maximum dancefloor impact. Road tested at clubs and festivals across the world during the first half of 2024, it gives a taste of new material to come from the London based DJ, producer and mix engineer.

Pearson Sound - Hornet

Objekt - Chicken Garaage

Batu is back with a new transmission for his imprint A Long Strange Dream. This time with a pair of mercury-rising numbers designed for peak time dancefloor pressure.

Zeal and Sunday display a bouncy and brash approach; deadly and effective whilst retaining Batu’s signature dub-infused sonics.
credits
released June 13, 2024

Written & produced by Batu.
Artwork by Laurie Herman.

Mastered by Rhys Crouch at Optimum Mastering

Zeal

Not my song. By all means let me know if you want this taken down.

https://youtu.be/_aNzUJ3Nm1w?si=YiyTg25MRjqTnLFb

Dewey Martino - Pipopapipo

Little Feat - Spanish Moon (Andy Buchan Edit)

All This I Do For Glory

Spindrift

Surfer Rosa

Where is my mind ?

Where is my mind ? Pixies - Noburo Hatano

Ghostt Town 💀🌹 no Spotify: spoti.fi/2GgPqPz


www.instagram.com/ghosttmusic
www.facebook.com/ghosttmusic
www.youtube.com/ghosttmusic

The Killers - Somebody Told Me (Ghostt Remix)

Sodom
Sorry! I’m no fan of hope
Hope was a city, which they burned down
They said its inhabitants are not utile
It’s not worth moiling (for it)
It was some soil, worthless, but at least had the Mom’s scent
Dad was broken, but not defeated yet, he had still power
It wasn’t the golden era of his and hers (Khomeini), there were adversity, but no bread
(But) it was clear that working would bring some benefits
The land of the old lions
Young wolves!
Life (was) cheap, desire (was) costly
The future means when you wake up tomorrow, the windows are still intact!
At night the laboring eyes of father awake with the (air raid) siren’s noise!
The long queue at the bakery, (then buying some) spoiled milk, anguished over the bitter taste of the brother’s slap (on my face)
Stealing an egg from a pregnant goose, right through her white feathers!
It was rough, but pleasurable, being hit by the stones (while playing) in the alley of childhood
The sky was falling down, hitching ride on the back of the lorries and die!
Losing your big toe in soccer, then become a left-footed player for your severe passion for it
You go to bed wearing “Malavan”’s 2 jerseys, next morning you wake up wearing Germany’s shorts!
Hot
Poppy (bread)
Like the skin of the first girl
First sin, a kiss
Eating “Kowsar”’s tiny apples (sucking her breasts)
In the garden
Do you remember?
Romantic letters of a “rebellious frantic half-poet”!
(It was) the interpretation of a teacher whom I liked, Mr. “Ghorbani”
(He) opened the water (tap) and threw his dentures in the glass
It was his real property of the made-in-Iran life!
He went on retirement so that the pension would untie his debts’ Gordian knot!
The knots and his eyes weren’t opened, he lagged behind the pills for his heart!
Why did I start crying? Supposedly you need five dollars for a meal
Why shouldn’t I start crying, when my hands are cuffed and my eyes are open?
Sorry! I’m no fan of hope
Hope was a breathless city
Suffocation had an Army green 3 color,
which took the youth their passion away
I know the Quran very well, I’m not “Hafez” 4 but I know (the story) by heart
It was supposed to back me up, then I’d dissolve in it, it’d protect me
But the delight is in the poetry, which is the demolition of my body and soul
“Shahin” 5, two defeated inner kings of mine, are in my name
On my exile path, I acted as a master to become a king
It was my right, through this tough choice, to be either “Reza” 6 or “Mirza” 7
Either I should lean on King’s head or I shall become the king and cut the heads off!
Whoever I was, I neither became the supplicant servant in royal court nor I knocked the (palace) door
I was childish and insisted on it. To be an adult (great person) doesn’t depend on the age!,They asked: “What have you achieved so far?” I had nothing to say!
I’ve achieved a shredded heart
I’ve attained wet eyes
Not Art, not Politics and not Philosophy! They’re awful games, no place for kids
I’m the same age as the revolution, which isn’t alike its children
(I’m) like a martyr’s father, whose son’s leftover is just a lone shoe
I think the war goes on and I’m worried that my son has no shoes on!
The smell of camphor and rosewater, the cold feet in the morgue at the end of the road
The awful smell of “Mamad”’s blistered yellow feet
Motorcycle was the murderer of half of the town’s people, the other half were killed by booze and drugs
You could drown in sea or in the dream of a happy life!
Where have I reached so far? Well, (I’m) behind my mustache!
(I’ve achieved) the Slipped Discs, Sciatica and Hemorrhoid
(I’ve reached) the death, loneliness in exile
I feared
The wind takes you
You’d back down
I was worried (for you) that the future becomes a deep well, we disappear
Or we die and wake up again in this ominous life
I swallowed water
I didn’t breathe until the coastguard leaves
The fish in my net
The fisher in the God’s trawl
Oh, God!
I wish it’d go away!

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