All tomorrow's parties

It was one of those last nights of spring. Birds spilled out their warbling canticles, and humans, having answered their various calls of duty, were bathing in the sanctity of fatigue. Everything was working out its destiny: trees, planets, sharks. All except the Creator! He was stretched out on the highway, his clothing thorn. His lower lip hung down like a soporific cable. His teeth were unbrushed, and dust clogged the white waves of his hair. Numbed by a torpid drowsiness, crushed against the peebles, his body was making futile efforts to get up again. Gouts of wine swamped the ruts trenched by his shoulders' nervous twitches... He was drunk! Dreadfully drunk! Tight as a tick which has guzzled three tuns of blood in the night! He filled the echoes with garbled comments I will desist from repeating here; even if the Supreme Drunkard has no self-respect, I must respect mankind. You'll see, not only was the Supreme Creator, drunk, he just came from an ecstasy-fuelled rave party out of some european city where it felt like clubs and bedrooms were trying to approach the savage hedonism of a third (or is it fourth?) summer of love. The Mind overstimulated to its very core retreats like one defeated, and every once in a lifetime may well fall into the aberrations I have witnessed. It pains me to say it but this is not, nor will it be the last time we observe the Creator ensign of vice, as less than two centuries ago (around 1869) , my dear Maldoror had witnessed something utterly similar to the events described above, but where he followed, I silently stared (and danced).

Gabriel Ananda - ihre personliche glucksmelodie
John Tejada - the end of it all
Rekid - retro active
Shyza Minelli - shyza all night long
Aphex Twin - windowlicker (acid edit)
Adam Sky - ape x
Thomas Bangalter - outrun
Patrick Chardronett - eve by day
Paul Kalkbrenner - dockyard

Image: record sleeves by Sputtnik