"Your Love (You Give Me Fever)" by Romare

From the EP “Love Songs Pt. 1” on Black Acre Records

Roma 1982 by Charles H. Traub “La Dolce Via” edito da Damiani

Roma 1982 by Charles H. Traub
“La Dolce Via” edito da Damiani

Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKOhttp://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/ THE PROJECT For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.  Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.
Zoom Info
Andrew Miksys / DISKO

http://www.andrewmiksys.com/disko/

THE PROJECT

For almost 10 years, I spent many weekends photographing in village discos in Lithuania. Most of these discos are located in Soviet era culture houses. Sometimes I would rummage around the back rooms and find broken Lenin paintings, Soviet movie posters, gas masks and other remnants of the Soviet Union. I was quite fascinated by all this debris of a dead empire. It seemed like a perfect backdrop to make a series of photographs about young people in Lithuania, a crumbling past and the uncertain future of a new generation together in one room. The people I photographed were often puzzled about my presence in their local discos. Why would someone travel all the way from the USA to photograph them? I’m an American-Lithuanian, but my broken, heavily accented Lithuanian certainly gave me away. In truth, it was probably my outsider status that made me less threatening and kept me safe. The local disco is where you go to get drunk, make out, dance and sometimes fight. I ignored the repeated warnings from friends not to travel to these places alone. My anxiety was often quite intense when I got in my car and left the familiar lights of Vilnius searching for discos on mostly empty back roads. I never knew what I was going to find, but the prospect of discovering a disco somewhere in the dark with colored lights pouring out the windows and pulsating music pushed me forward.

Village discos are less popular these days. Lithuanian youth are moving to cities or leaving for Western Europe and America as fast as they can. But it’s my guess this doesn’t signal the end of village discos. The summer solstice or Joninės (St. John the Baptist Day) is one of the more important holidays in Lithuania. Despite being named in honor of a Christian saint, this holiday has very pagan roots. And Lithuania, with its distinction as the last country in Europe to give up paganism and accept Christianity, enthusiastically celebrates the solstice by heading to the countryside. It’s one time during the year when villages seem more populated than cities. Andrei Tarkovsky has an amazing scene in his film Andrei Rublev showing medieval pagans celebrating the solstice. Naked villagers run around in the forest dancing, jumping over fires and having sex in the bushes. While it’s assumed that discos are a product of urban culture, it seems to me that these pagan traditions from the forest could have been the first discos. And maybe dancing in the forest never really goes out of style. After all, the full moon and stars make a pretty awesome disco ball.

Label: BPitch Control - BPC 131
Artist: Paul Kalkbrenner
Track: Keule
Format: Vinyl, 12”, 33 ⅓ RPM, 45 RPM
Country: Germany
Released: Jul 2006

Skyboy - No Future Podcast #3 (Autumn 2013) / also on DJ Mag Italia

Cold days are always more and more….autumn is “falling” down and winter is very near.
Outside my window there’s one of those clear and amazing sunset after some rainy days: it could seems to be in the beach during the autumn.

WE HAVE THE MUSIC and that’s good enough.

With these feelings I have mixed some music pearls without time and trends, from break rhythms to 4/4.
As always you can use shazam to have the tracklist.

Love/Research

Tiziano

Black loops meets Skyboy | Dj Mag Italia

Per questa nuova puntata di dj mag radioshow BLACK LOOPS (Gomma-Gruuv-Toy Tonics) sono lieti di presentarvi il nuovo mixato di SKYBOY.
Skyboy è un dj e produttore a 360 gradi che non segue i trend e hypes del momento, cosa che si denota dai suoi set dove mischia techno e ritmi “spezzati dall’influenza Uk.
Skyboy vanta produzioni per etichette come la berlinese CLAP YOUR HANDS e 7oz.
E’ appena uscito con un 12″ sull’etichetta romana PUAS sotto il progetto CUT AND PAST, che ha toccato il 12esimo posto in classifica generale decks ed è strasuonato da dj del calibro di Jimpster.
Un’altro pseudonimo di Skyboy è “SCRUFFYWRKS”, con il quale produce tracce dal sapore juke/grime/ghetto/footwork..


http://www.mixcloud.com/DjMagItalia/black-loops-meets-skyboy/

http://www.discogs.com/artist/Skyboy
https://www.facebook.com/skyboy.dj

Skyboy - No Future podcast #2 (Summer 2013)

•This year it’s a little bit weird summer but luckily WE HAVE THE MUSIC….and Jägermeister shots!
•This podcast cointains some little gems that blow my mind in these last times.
•Picture is from a very nerd and wild private party in the middle of Italy.

•Tracklist will be proudly provided by Shazam as always, so switch on your f#°ßing smartphones!

"Cat in a paper house" (Rome, june 2013)photo by Belooshi

"Cat in a paper house" (Rome, june 2013)photo by Belooshi