Cosmic disco was never really a genre. It was a club on Lake Garda, a DJ who played records at the wrong speed, and a cassette network that carried the room far beyond its 700 capacity.
The remix is now so ordinary that it barely registers as an idea. Every release arrives with alternate versions attached, every streaming profile carries a shadow discography of other people’s edits, and nobody thinks of it as a format at all. But the remix was not designed. It was the accidental byproduct of two separate [&hellip
There is a useful test for whether a record is genuinely a source rather than a product. Strip away the melody, the vocal, the era it belongs to, and see if the skeleton still walks. Play the throbbing sixteenth-note bassline of “I Feel Love” with no voice on top and you are not listening to […]
