Florida’s Greg Beato knocks out the umpteenth banger on L.I.E.S. this year, adding to what is arguably the label’s golden era.
In equilibrium between lushly humid synth atmospheres and basement/warehouse-ready ruggedness, he hammers home the percolated kick drum pressure and wobbly-eyed feels of It’s A Habit beside a total winner with the whirring hi-hats and gorgeous, pink-hued pads of Haunting for a real slice of deep, almost Drexciyan magick.
In stark contrast, F7 opens the other side with much nastier, croaking noise, all knee-buckling distortion and sliding, Afro-Cuban drum patterns to twist-a-body, then clocking out with two concise, claggy house jack-offs.
Really good this one.
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Florida’s Greg Beato knocks out the umpteenth banger on L.I.E.S. this year, adding to what is arguably the label’s golden era.
In equilibrium between lushly humid synth atmospheres and basement/warehouse-ready ruggedness, he hammers home the percolated kick drum pressure and wobbly-eyed feels of It’s A Habit beside a total winner with the whirring hi-hats and gorgeous, pink-hued pads of Haunting for a real slice of deep, almost Drexciyan magick.
In stark contrast, F7 opens the other side with much nastier, croaking noise, all knee-buckling distortion and sliding, Afro-Cuban drum patterns to twist-a-body, then clocking out with two concise, claggy house jack-offs.
Really good this one.
Florida’s Greg Beato knocks out the umpteenth banger on L.I.E.S. this year, adding to what is arguably the label’s golden era.
In equilibrium between lushly humid synth atmospheres and basement/warehouse-ready ruggedness, he hammers home the percolated kick drum pressure and wobbly-eyed feels of It’s A Habit beside a total winner with the whirring hi-hats and gorgeous, pink-hued pads of Haunting for a real slice of deep, almost Drexciyan magick.
In stark contrast, F7 opens the other side with much nastier, croaking noise, all knee-buckling distortion and sliding, Afro-Cuban drum patterns to twist-a-body, then clocking out with two concise, claggy house jack-offs.
Really good this one.
Florida’s Greg Beato knocks out the umpteenth banger on L.I.E.S. this year, adding to what is arguably the label’s golden era.
In equilibrium between lushly humid synth atmospheres and basement/warehouse-ready ruggedness, he hammers home the percolated kick drum pressure and wobbly-eyed feels of It’s A Habit beside a total winner with the whirring hi-hats and gorgeous, pink-hued pads of Haunting for a real slice of deep, almost Drexciyan magick.
In stark contrast, F7 opens the other side with much nastier, croaking noise, all knee-buckling distortion and sliding, Afro-Cuban drum patterns to twist-a-body, then clocking out with two concise, claggy house jack-offs.
Really good this one.
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Florida’s Greg Beato knocks out the umpteenth banger on L.I.E.S. this year, adding to what is arguably the label’s golden era.
In equilibrium between lushly humid synth atmospheres and basement/warehouse-ready ruggedness, he hammers home the percolated kick drum pressure and wobbly-eyed feels of It’s A Habit beside a total winner with the whirring hi-hats and gorgeous, pink-hued pads of Haunting for a real slice of deep, almost Drexciyan magick.
In stark contrast, F7 opens the other side with much nastier, croaking noise, all knee-buckling distortion and sliding, Afro-Cuban drum patterns to twist-a-body, then clocking out with two concise, claggy house jack-offs.
Really good this one.