More forward motions from Brazil’s relentlessly dynamic funk scene, DJ K’s already iconic ‘Panico No Submundo’ (Panic in the Underworld) lands on vinyl for the first time after a limited tape edition last year. A deafening collision of delirious, furious, squealing, carnivalesque electronics, wrecked baile funk and psychedelic vocals, the LP provides a vital document of São Paulo's burgeoning Bruxaria sound, shining a spotlight on one of the most important and dynamic developments in club music over the last few years. Cop it immediately if you were ruined by that DJ Anderson do Paraiso madness, or if you wanna know where it’s at.
If you've spent any time swiping thru TikTok then you've likely heard the distorted brand of baile funk that's characterised by a clash of sirens, jackhammer beats, long delays and garbled, overlayed Brazilian voices. That's Bruxaria, a sound that emerged from Baile do Helipa, a street party based in Heliópolis, São Paulo's biggest favela. More menacing and considerably more spannered than its close cousin, funk Mandelão, Bruxaria draws its energy from the auditory hallucinations - known locally as 'tuin' - caused by lança perfume, a drug made from chloroethane and perfume found everywhere throughout São Paulo's bailes. A little like poppers with a twist, lança perfume inspires a temporary euphoria that's enhanced by loud, shrill sounds, so the music plays into this necessity, emphasising the experience with wailing synths and blown-out drums.
DJ K started producing music when he was only 17, studying YouTube tutorials until he was able to bolt together rudimentary tracks for local parties. Before long, his sounds became central to Baile do Helipa, and currently he's on the front line of the Bruxaria Sound collective, a sprawling crew of São Paulo's most energetic MCs, producers and DJs. 'Panico No Submundo' is the introduction many of us outside of Brazil have been waiting for, the first release in a proposed series from Nyege Nyege that promises to shine a spotlight on what, for our money, is one of the most important club music developments in recent years. Everything falls into place on opening track 'Viagem Ao Oculto' (occult journey) - if you've never come across Bruxaria before then it's a startling introduction, a ransacked onslaught of papery voices, toytown zaps and drums that'll blow straight thru your woofers.
The same basic sounds crop up in almost every track: tight delays that whirr into gaps between beats, manic laughter, pitch-f u cked carnival trance synths EQed to remove any trace of low end, and chopped-to-shreds vocals, supplied by any number of Bruxaria’s legion of MCs. MC Zudo Boladão and MC Menor Douglinhas lead 'Montagem Alem Do Universo' (assembly beyond the universe), trading rhymes over compressed hardstyle kicks and synths that might be funny if they weren't so demonic. It's haunted house music in the best possible sense, both deliriously silly and sonically terrifying, using white noise as a weapon of saturation to drive the rhythm and force movement - "embrazar" as it's known in the bailes. Even at lower tempos, DJ K manages to conjure a stifling groove, stapling hoarse sine squiggles to spaced-out, minimalist kick patterns on 'To Comendo Puta De Graça' (I'm eating this bitch for free) and almost losing the beat entirely on the cosmic, Halloween-sampling 'Sequencia Terrorista Do Heliópolis'.
The aesthetic quality here is variable but crucial - when DJ K scorches his tracks with overzealous limiting or saturation it's entirely by design. And although tracks like the sand-blasted 'Ela Quer Pop Pirulito' (she wants lollipop pop) and the metallic 'Montagem Eletrônica' - sounding like a broken ice-cream truck and a malfunctioning Yamaha DX7 respectively - might come across as completely unplayable to most DJs, that's really the point. It ain't music for mass consumption, it's the sound of a scene based around specific parties and specific drugs - and its energy and vigour is fucking immense.
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More forward motions from Brazil’s relentlessly dynamic funk scene, DJ K’s already iconic ‘Panico No Submundo’ (Panic in the Underworld) lands on vinyl for the first time after a limited tape edition last year. A deafening collision of delirious, furious, squealing, carnivalesque electronics, wrecked baile funk and psychedelic vocals, the LP provides a vital document of São Paulo's burgeoning Bruxaria sound, shining a spotlight on one of the most important and dynamic developments in club music over the last few years. Cop it immediately if you were ruined by that DJ Anderson do Paraiso madness, or if you wanna know where it’s at.
If you've spent any time swiping thru TikTok then you've likely heard the distorted brand of baile funk that's characterised by a clash of sirens, jackhammer beats, long delays and garbled, overlayed Brazilian voices. That's Bruxaria, a sound that emerged from Baile do Helipa, a street party based in Heliópolis, São Paulo's biggest favela. More menacing and considerably more spannered than its close cousin, funk Mandelão, Bruxaria draws its energy from the auditory hallucinations - known locally as 'tuin' - caused by lança perfume, a drug made from chloroethane and perfume found everywhere throughout São Paulo's bailes. A little like poppers with a twist, lança perfume inspires a temporary euphoria that's enhanced by loud, shrill sounds, so the music plays into this necessity, emphasising the experience with wailing synths and blown-out drums.
DJ K started producing music when he was only 17, studying YouTube tutorials until he was able to bolt together rudimentary tracks for local parties. Before long, his sounds became central to Baile do Helipa, and currently he's on the front line of the Bruxaria Sound collective, a sprawling crew of São Paulo's most energetic MCs, producers and DJs. 'Panico No Submundo' is the introduction many of us outside of Brazil have been waiting for, the first release in a proposed series from Nyege Nyege that promises to shine a spotlight on what, for our money, is one of the most important club music developments in recent years. Everything falls into place on opening track 'Viagem Ao Oculto' (occult journey) - if you've never come across Bruxaria before then it's a startling introduction, a ransacked onslaught of papery voices, toytown zaps and drums that'll blow straight thru your woofers.
The same basic sounds crop up in almost every track: tight delays that whirr into gaps between beats, manic laughter, pitch-f u cked carnival trance synths EQed to remove any trace of low end, and chopped-to-shreds vocals, supplied by any number of Bruxaria’s legion of MCs. MC Zudo Boladão and MC Menor Douglinhas lead 'Montagem Alem Do Universo' (assembly beyond the universe), trading rhymes over compressed hardstyle kicks and synths that might be funny if they weren't so demonic. It's haunted house music in the best possible sense, both deliriously silly and sonically terrifying, using white noise as a weapon of saturation to drive the rhythm and force movement - "embrazar" as it's known in the bailes. Even at lower tempos, DJ K manages to conjure a stifling groove, stapling hoarse sine squiggles to spaced-out, minimalist kick patterns on 'To Comendo Puta De Graça' (I'm eating this bitch for free) and almost losing the beat entirely on the cosmic, Halloween-sampling 'Sequencia Terrorista Do Heliópolis'.
The aesthetic quality here is variable but crucial - when DJ K scorches his tracks with overzealous limiting or saturation it's entirely by design. And although tracks like the sand-blasted 'Ela Quer Pop Pirulito' (she wants lollipop pop) and the metallic 'Montagem Eletrônica' - sounding like a broken ice-cream truck and a malfunctioning Yamaha DX7 respectively - might come across as completely unplayable to most DJs, that's really the point. It ain't music for mass consumption, it's the sound of a scene based around specific parties and specific drugs - and its energy and vigour is fucking immense.
More forward motions from Brazil’s relentlessly dynamic funk scene, DJ K’s already iconic ‘Panico No Submundo’ (Panic in the Underworld) lands on vinyl for the first time after a limited tape edition last year. A deafening collision of delirious, furious, squealing, carnivalesque electronics, wrecked baile funk and psychedelic vocals, the LP provides a vital document of São Paulo's burgeoning Bruxaria sound, shining a spotlight on one of the most important and dynamic developments in club music over the last few years. Cop it immediately if you were ruined by that DJ Anderson do Paraiso madness, or if you wanna know where it’s at.
If you've spent any time swiping thru TikTok then you've likely heard the distorted brand of baile funk that's characterised by a clash of sirens, jackhammer beats, long delays and garbled, overlayed Brazilian voices. That's Bruxaria, a sound that emerged from Baile do Helipa, a street party based in Heliópolis, São Paulo's biggest favela. More menacing and considerably more spannered than its close cousin, funk Mandelão, Bruxaria draws its energy from the auditory hallucinations - known locally as 'tuin' - caused by lança perfume, a drug made from chloroethane and perfume found everywhere throughout São Paulo's bailes. A little like poppers with a twist, lança perfume inspires a temporary euphoria that's enhanced by loud, shrill sounds, so the music plays into this necessity, emphasising the experience with wailing synths and blown-out drums.
DJ K started producing music when he was only 17, studying YouTube tutorials until he was able to bolt together rudimentary tracks for local parties. Before long, his sounds became central to Baile do Helipa, and currently he's on the front line of the Bruxaria Sound collective, a sprawling crew of São Paulo's most energetic MCs, producers and DJs. 'Panico No Submundo' is the introduction many of us outside of Brazil have been waiting for, the first release in a proposed series from Nyege Nyege that promises to shine a spotlight on what, for our money, is one of the most important club music developments in recent years. Everything falls into place on opening track 'Viagem Ao Oculto' (occult journey) - if you've never come across Bruxaria before then it's a startling introduction, a ransacked onslaught of papery voices, toytown zaps and drums that'll blow straight thru your woofers.
The same basic sounds crop up in almost every track: tight delays that whirr into gaps between beats, manic laughter, pitch-f u cked carnival trance synths EQed to remove any trace of low end, and chopped-to-shreds vocals, supplied by any number of Bruxaria’s legion of MCs. MC Zudo Boladão and MC Menor Douglinhas lead 'Montagem Alem Do Universo' (assembly beyond the universe), trading rhymes over compressed hardstyle kicks and synths that might be funny if they weren't so demonic. It's haunted house music in the best possible sense, both deliriously silly and sonically terrifying, using white noise as a weapon of saturation to drive the rhythm and force movement - "embrazar" as it's known in the bailes. Even at lower tempos, DJ K manages to conjure a stifling groove, stapling hoarse sine squiggles to spaced-out, minimalist kick patterns on 'To Comendo Puta De Graça' (I'm eating this bitch for free) and almost losing the beat entirely on the cosmic, Halloween-sampling 'Sequencia Terrorista Do Heliópolis'.
The aesthetic quality here is variable but crucial - when DJ K scorches his tracks with overzealous limiting or saturation it's entirely by design. And although tracks like the sand-blasted 'Ela Quer Pop Pirulito' (she wants lollipop pop) and the metallic 'Montagem Eletrônica' - sounding like a broken ice-cream truck and a malfunctioning Yamaha DX7 respectively - might come across as completely unplayable to most DJs, that's really the point. It ain't music for mass consumption, it's the sound of a scene based around specific parties and specific drugs - and its energy and vigour is fucking immense.
More forward motions from Brazil’s relentlessly dynamic funk scene, DJ K’s already iconic ‘Panico No Submundo’ (Panic in the Underworld) lands on vinyl for the first time after a limited tape edition last year. A deafening collision of delirious, furious, squealing, carnivalesque electronics, wrecked baile funk and psychedelic vocals, the LP provides a vital document of São Paulo's burgeoning Bruxaria sound, shining a spotlight on one of the most important and dynamic developments in club music over the last few years. Cop it immediately if you were ruined by that DJ Anderson do Paraiso madness, or if you wanna know where it’s at.
If you've spent any time swiping thru TikTok then you've likely heard the distorted brand of baile funk that's characterised by a clash of sirens, jackhammer beats, long delays and garbled, overlayed Brazilian voices. That's Bruxaria, a sound that emerged from Baile do Helipa, a street party based in Heliópolis, São Paulo's biggest favela. More menacing and considerably more spannered than its close cousin, funk Mandelão, Bruxaria draws its energy from the auditory hallucinations - known locally as 'tuin' - caused by lança perfume, a drug made from chloroethane and perfume found everywhere throughout São Paulo's bailes. A little like poppers with a twist, lança perfume inspires a temporary euphoria that's enhanced by loud, shrill sounds, so the music plays into this necessity, emphasising the experience with wailing synths and blown-out drums.
DJ K started producing music when he was only 17, studying YouTube tutorials until he was able to bolt together rudimentary tracks for local parties. Before long, his sounds became central to Baile do Helipa, and currently he's on the front line of the Bruxaria Sound collective, a sprawling crew of São Paulo's most energetic MCs, producers and DJs. 'Panico No Submundo' is the introduction many of us outside of Brazil have been waiting for, the first release in a proposed series from Nyege Nyege that promises to shine a spotlight on what, for our money, is one of the most important club music developments in recent years. Everything falls into place on opening track 'Viagem Ao Oculto' (occult journey) - if you've never come across Bruxaria before then it's a startling introduction, a ransacked onslaught of papery voices, toytown zaps and drums that'll blow straight thru your woofers.
The same basic sounds crop up in almost every track: tight delays that whirr into gaps between beats, manic laughter, pitch-f u cked carnival trance synths EQed to remove any trace of low end, and chopped-to-shreds vocals, supplied by any number of Bruxaria’s legion of MCs. MC Zudo Boladão and MC Menor Douglinhas lead 'Montagem Alem Do Universo' (assembly beyond the universe), trading rhymes over compressed hardstyle kicks and synths that might be funny if they weren't so demonic. It's haunted house music in the best possible sense, both deliriously silly and sonically terrifying, using white noise as a weapon of saturation to drive the rhythm and force movement - "embrazar" as it's known in the bailes. Even at lower tempos, DJ K manages to conjure a stifling groove, stapling hoarse sine squiggles to spaced-out, minimalist kick patterns on 'To Comendo Puta De Graça' (I'm eating this bitch for free) and almost losing the beat entirely on the cosmic, Halloween-sampling 'Sequencia Terrorista Do Heliópolis'.
The aesthetic quality here is variable but crucial - when DJ K scorches his tracks with overzealous limiting or saturation it's entirely by design. And although tracks like the sand-blasted 'Ela Quer Pop Pirulito' (she wants lollipop pop) and the metallic 'Montagem Eletrônica' - sounding like a broken ice-cream truck and a malfunctioning Yamaha DX7 respectively - might come across as completely unplayable to most DJs, that's really the point. It ain't music for mass consumption, it's the sound of a scene based around specific parties and specific drugs - and its energy and vigour is fucking immense.
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More forward motions from Brazil’s relentlessly dynamic funk scene, DJ K’s already iconic ‘Panico No Submundo’ (Panic in the Underworld) lands on vinyl for the first time after a limited tape edition last year. A deafening collision of delirious, furious, squealing, carnivalesque electronics, wrecked baile funk and psychedelic vocals, the LP provides a vital document of São Paulo's burgeoning Bruxaria sound, shining a spotlight on one of the most important and dynamic developments in club music over the last few years. Cop it immediately if you were ruined by that DJ Anderson do Paraiso madness, or if you wanna know where it’s at.
If you've spent any time swiping thru TikTok then you've likely heard the distorted brand of baile funk that's characterised by a clash of sirens, jackhammer beats, long delays and garbled, overlayed Brazilian voices. That's Bruxaria, a sound that emerged from Baile do Helipa, a street party based in Heliópolis, São Paulo's biggest favela. More menacing and considerably more spannered than its close cousin, funk Mandelão, Bruxaria draws its energy from the auditory hallucinations - known locally as 'tuin' - caused by lança perfume, a drug made from chloroethane and perfume found everywhere throughout São Paulo's bailes. A little like poppers with a twist, lança perfume inspires a temporary euphoria that's enhanced by loud, shrill sounds, so the music plays into this necessity, emphasising the experience with wailing synths and blown-out drums.
DJ K started producing music when he was only 17, studying YouTube tutorials until he was able to bolt together rudimentary tracks for local parties. Before long, his sounds became central to Baile do Helipa, and currently he's on the front line of the Bruxaria Sound collective, a sprawling crew of São Paulo's most energetic MCs, producers and DJs. 'Panico No Submundo' is the introduction many of us outside of Brazil have been waiting for, the first release in a proposed series from Nyege Nyege that promises to shine a spotlight on what, for our money, is one of the most important club music developments in recent years. Everything falls into place on opening track 'Viagem Ao Oculto' (occult journey) - if you've never come across Bruxaria before then it's a startling introduction, a ransacked onslaught of papery voices, toytown zaps and drums that'll blow straight thru your woofers.
The same basic sounds crop up in almost every track: tight delays that whirr into gaps between beats, manic laughter, pitch-f u cked carnival trance synths EQed to remove any trace of low end, and chopped-to-shreds vocals, supplied by any number of Bruxaria’s legion of MCs. MC Zudo Boladão and MC Menor Douglinhas lead 'Montagem Alem Do Universo' (assembly beyond the universe), trading rhymes over compressed hardstyle kicks and synths that might be funny if they weren't so demonic. It's haunted house music in the best possible sense, both deliriously silly and sonically terrifying, using white noise as a weapon of saturation to drive the rhythm and force movement - "embrazar" as it's known in the bailes. Even at lower tempos, DJ K manages to conjure a stifling groove, stapling hoarse sine squiggles to spaced-out, minimalist kick patterns on 'To Comendo Puta De Graça' (I'm eating this bitch for free) and almost losing the beat entirely on the cosmic, Halloween-sampling 'Sequencia Terrorista Do Heliópolis'.
The aesthetic quality here is variable but crucial - when DJ K scorches his tracks with overzealous limiting or saturation it's entirely by design. And although tracks like the sand-blasted 'Ela Quer Pop Pirulito' (she wants lollipop pop) and the metallic 'Montagem Eletrônica' - sounding like a broken ice-cream truck and a malfunctioning Yamaha DX7 respectively - might come across as completely unplayable to most DJs, that's really the point. It ain't music for mass consumption, it's the sound of a scene based around specific parties and specific drugs - and its energy and vigour is fucking immense.