No Favours
Christoph De Babalon galvanises his moody junglist urges with bashy hardcore and 2-step slices on a rugged slew for Berlin’s Sneaker Social Club.
The ‘No Favours’ EP marks 30 years since CDB first ventured a sort of BM-type of lo-fi DIY breakbeat hardcore terror on local label Fischkopf Hamburg, in the process sowing seeds for gothic strains of brittle D&B issued by DHR and FatCat that were key to breakcore’s splinter movement by end of the ‘90s, including his foundational album 'If You're Into It, I'm Out Of It' that landed somewhere between Thomas Köner's ice cold dread and DJ Scud's most brutal(ist) productions.
In the four cuts of ‘No Favours’ we hear his distinctive history haunting its rave-in-a-horror-flick aesthetics, initiated with the chain rattle clangour and nerve-steeling free party breaks blast of ‘For Nothing’, typically stained with efflorescent synths, he toggles the intensity between volleys of bashy drumfunk gnawed by dread chamber tones in ‘Total Deceit’, and outright doomcore bleakness in ‘Jaded Memory’, which feels like The Caretaker going off at the Barne’s Hospital sessions (IYKYK), and ultimately pitches down those same ketted corridors of memory into the labyrinthine gauntlet of ‘Dearth Mill’ with a slightly more refined but still raw rave bloodlust that’s served him deadly well for decades.
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Christoph De Babalon galvanises his moody junglist urges with bashy hardcore and 2-step slices on a rugged slew for Berlin’s Sneaker Social Club.
The ‘No Favours’ EP marks 30 years since CDB first ventured a sort of BM-type of lo-fi DIY breakbeat hardcore terror on local label Fischkopf Hamburg, in the process sowing seeds for gothic strains of brittle D&B issued by DHR and FatCat that were key to breakcore’s splinter movement by end of the ‘90s, including his foundational album 'If You're Into It, I'm Out Of It' that landed somewhere between Thomas Köner's ice cold dread and DJ Scud's most brutal(ist) productions.
In the four cuts of ‘No Favours’ we hear his distinctive history haunting its rave-in-a-horror-flick aesthetics, initiated with the chain rattle clangour and nerve-steeling free party breaks blast of ‘For Nothing’, typically stained with efflorescent synths, he toggles the intensity between volleys of bashy drumfunk gnawed by dread chamber tones in ‘Total Deceit’, and outright doomcore bleakness in ‘Jaded Memory’, which feels like The Caretaker going off at the Barne’s Hospital sessions (IYKYK), and ultimately pitches down those same ketted corridors of memory into the labyrinthine gauntlet of ‘Dearth Mill’ with a slightly more refined but still raw rave bloodlust that’s served him deadly well for decades.
Christoph De Babalon galvanises his moody junglist urges with bashy hardcore and 2-step slices on a rugged slew for Berlin’s Sneaker Social Club.
The ‘No Favours’ EP marks 30 years since CDB first ventured a sort of BM-type of lo-fi DIY breakbeat hardcore terror on local label Fischkopf Hamburg, in the process sowing seeds for gothic strains of brittle D&B issued by DHR and FatCat that were key to breakcore’s splinter movement by end of the ‘90s, including his foundational album 'If You're Into It, I'm Out Of It' that landed somewhere between Thomas Köner's ice cold dread and DJ Scud's most brutal(ist) productions.
In the four cuts of ‘No Favours’ we hear his distinctive history haunting its rave-in-a-horror-flick aesthetics, initiated with the chain rattle clangour and nerve-steeling free party breaks blast of ‘For Nothing’, typically stained with efflorescent synths, he toggles the intensity between volleys of bashy drumfunk gnawed by dread chamber tones in ‘Total Deceit’, and outright doomcore bleakness in ‘Jaded Memory’, which feels like The Caretaker going off at the Barne’s Hospital sessions (IYKYK), and ultimately pitches down those same ketted corridors of memory into the labyrinthine gauntlet of ‘Dearth Mill’ with a slightly more refined but still raw rave bloodlust that’s served him deadly well for decades.
Christoph De Babalon galvanises his moody junglist urges with bashy hardcore and 2-step slices on a rugged slew for Berlin’s Sneaker Social Club.
The ‘No Favours’ EP marks 30 years since CDB first ventured a sort of BM-type of lo-fi DIY breakbeat hardcore terror on local label Fischkopf Hamburg, in the process sowing seeds for gothic strains of brittle D&B issued by DHR and FatCat that were key to breakcore’s splinter movement by end of the ‘90s, including his foundational album 'If You're Into It, I'm Out Of It' that landed somewhere between Thomas Köner's ice cold dread and DJ Scud's most brutal(ist) productions.
In the four cuts of ‘No Favours’ we hear his distinctive history haunting its rave-in-a-horror-flick aesthetics, initiated with the chain rattle clangour and nerve-steeling free party breaks blast of ‘For Nothing’, typically stained with efflorescent synths, he toggles the intensity between volleys of bashy drumfunk gnawed by dread chamber tones in ‘Total Deceit’, and outright doomcore bleakness in ‘Jaded Memory’, which feels like The Caretaker going off at the Barne’s Hospital sessions (IYKYK), and ultimately pitches down those same ketted corridors of memory into the labyrinthine gauntlet of ‘Dearth Mill’ with a slightly more refined but still raw rave bloodlust that’s served him deadly well for decades.
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Christoph De Babalon galvanises his moody junglist urges with bashy hardcore and 2-step slices on a rugged slew for Berlin’s Sneaker Social Club.
The ‘No Favours’ EP marks 30 years since CDB first ventured a sort of BM-type of lo-fi DIY breakbeat hardcore terror on local label Fischkopf Hamburg, in the process sowing seeds for gothic strains of brittle D&B issued by DHR and FatCat that were key to breakcore’s splinter movement by end of the ‘90s, including his foundational album 'If You're Into It, I'm Out Of It' that landed somewhere between Thomas Köner's ice cold dread and DJ Scud's most brutal(ist) productions.
In the four cuts of ‘No Favours’ we hear his distinctive history haunting its rave-in-a-horror-flick aesthetics, initiated with the chain rattle clangour and nerve-steeling free party breaks blast of ‘For Nothing’, typically stained with efflorescent synths, he toggles the intensity between volleys of bashy drumfunk gnawed by dread chamber tones in ‘Total Deceit’, and outright doomcore bleakness in ‘Jaded Memory’, which feels like The Caretaker going off at the Barne’s Hospital sessions (IYKYK), and ultimately pitches down those same ketted corridors of memory into the labyrinthine gauntlet of ‘Dearth Mill’ with a slightly more refined but still raw rave bloodlust that’s served him deadly well for decades.