The eternally evocative notion of a nightclub in your dreams prompts unusually muffled and groggy tapestries Timothy Brown aka TKB, who has never been to a club.
Where too much dance music nowadays sounds like it was made from watching YouTube or TikTok videos of raves and clubs, and not actually visiting them, at least TKB is honest enough to admit as much, and so the results of his ‘Dream Nightclub’ only become more intriguing because of it.
Recorded while living in a shack on a floodplain on Wurundjeri Country, Coldstream, Australia, the 11 parts here loosely resemble traces of 4th world ambient, On-U Sound experiments and the fantasies of Jan Jelinek, but at an oblique remove where only the smudged residuals bleed thru onto his gauzy canvas, leaving the impression of being xannied to the eyeballs and offering a calming, womb-like experience that clubs once offered, before a smoking ban and impatient indie-rock chumps had their way with it in recent decades.
So yeh, ‘Dream Nightclub’ is not club music in any putative sense but, squint your ears enough, and make sure you’re comfortable, and its a surprising trip that’s bound to play out on the back of yr eyelids and transport you somewhere warm, amniotic, soothing.
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The eternally evocative notion of a nightclub in your dreams prompts unusually muffled and groggy tapestries Timothy Brown aka TKB, who has never been to a club.
Where too much dance music nowadays sounds like it was made from watching YouTube or TikTok videos of raves and clubs, and not actually visiting them, at least TKB is honest enough to admit as much, and so the results of his ‘Dream Nightclub’ only become more intriguing because of it.
Recorded while living in a shack on a floodplain on Wurundjeri Country, Coldstream, Australia, the 11 parts here loosely resemble traces of 4th world ambient, On-U Sound experiments and the fantasies of Jan Jelinek, but at an oblique remove where only the smudged residuals bleed thru onto his gauzy canvas, leaving the impression of being xannied to the eyeballs and offering a calming, womb-like experience that clubs once offered, before a smoking ban and impatient indie-rock chumps had their way with it in recent decades.
So yeh, ‘Dream Nightclub’ is not club music in any putative sense but, squint your ears enough, and make sure you’re comfortable, and its a surprising trip that’s bound to play out on the back of yr eyelids and transport you somewhere warm, amniotic, soothing.
The eternally evocative notion of a nightclub in your dreams prompts unusually muffled and groggy tapestries Timothy Brown aka TKB, who has never been to a club.
Where too much dance music nowadays sounds like it was made from watching YouTube or TikTok videos of raves and clubs, and not actually visiting them, at least TKB is honest enough to admit as much, and so the results of his ‘Dream Nightclub’ only become more intriguing because of it.
Recorded while living in a shack on a floodplain on Wurundjeri Country, Coldstream, Australia, the 11 parts here loosely resemble traces of 4th world ambient, On-U Sound experiments and the fantasies of Jan Jelinek, but at an oblique remove where only the smudged residuals bleed thru onto his gauzy canvas, leaving the impression of being xannied to the eyeballs and offering a calming, womb-like experience that clubs once offered, before a smoking ban and impatient indie-rock chumps had their way with it in recent decades.
So yeh, ‘Dream Nightclub’ is not club music in any putative sense but, squint your ears enough, and make sure you’re comfortable, and its a surprising trip that’s bound to play out on the back of yr eyelids and transport you somewhere warm, amniotic, soothing.
The eternally evocative notion of a nightclub in your dreams prompts unusually muffled and groggy tapestries Timothy Brown aka TKB, who has never been to a club.
Where too much dance music nowadays sounds like it was made from watching YouTube or TikTok videos of raves and clubs, and not actually visiting them, at least TKB is honest enough to admit as much, and so the results of his ‘Dream Nightclub’ only become more intriguing because of it.
Recorded while living in a shack on a floodplain on Wurundjeri Country, Coldstream, Australia, the 11 parts here loosely resemble traces of 4th world ambient, On-U Sound experiments and the fantasies of Jan Jelinek, but at an oblique remove where only the smudged residuals bleed thru onto his gauzy canvas, leaving the impression of being xannied to the eyeballs and offering a calming, womb-like experience that clubs once offered, before a smoking ban and impatient indie-rock chumps had their way with it in recent decades.
So yeh, ‘Dream Nightclub’ is not club music in any putative sense but, squint your ears enough, and make sure you’re comfortable, and its a surprising trip that’s bound to play out on the back of yr eyelids and transport you somewhere warm, amniotic, soothing.
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The eternally evocative notion of a nightclub in your dreams prompts unusually muffled and groggy tapestries Timothy Brown aka TKB, who has never been to a club.
Where too much dance music nowadays sounds like it was made from watching YouTube or TikTok videos of raves and clubs, and not actually visiting them, at least TKB is honest enough to admit as much, and so the results of his ‘Dream Nightclub’ only become more intriguing because of it.
Recorded while living in a shack on a floodplain on Wurundjeri Country, Coldstream, Australia, the 11 parts here loosely resemble traces of 4th world ambient, On-U Sound experiments and the fantasies of Jan Jelinek, but at an oblique remove where only the smudged residuals bleed thru onto his gauzy canvas, leaving the impression of being xannied to the eyeballs and offering a calming, womb-like experience that clubs once offered, before a smoking ban and impatient indie-rock chumps had their way with it in recent decades.
So yeh, ‘Dream Nightclub’ is not club music in any putative sense but, squint your ears enough, and make sure you’re comfortable, and its a surprising trip that’s bound to play out on the back of yr eyelids and transport you somewhere warm, amniotic, soothing.