Claro Intelecto

Clubland April

Spring slowly brings a thaw to the chilling vise of winter that held London gripped between its icy jaws. Early mornings are met now with shimmering dew and blinding shards of golden sunlight, the foggy breath of harried commuters heaving a ragged seasonal farewell, scarves giving way to flashes of bare milky necks.

Jimpster, Aaron Carl, Booka Shade

CLUBLAND

Chatting to a friend the other day about tennis shoes, Dadaist art and finally music, he was telling me how he found the latest Poker Flat comp just a little too dry for his tastes. To be honest I haven’t heard it yet so that’s about the only mention it’s going to get in this month’s column. But I could understand what he was on about; despite the fact that we’d just taken in a rather abstract and minimal art exhibition that seemed like it could have been the visual equivalent to sparse techno and arid, housey meanderings, that ultra stripped back sound isn’t for everyone.