The original version is a slab of commercial lard that is too bubbly for home but too tacky for the clubs. You know the formula: Set Umbrella-esque-beats-to-swelling-strings-wailing-in-minor-key (oh how beautiful), add a dash of melancholy here and a clutch of ominousness there, and pray nobody recognises it's just another Rej in disguise.
But let that not discourage. Luke Dzierzek presents a more beat-focused piece, only slightly incorporating the original theme of strings, thus saving itself from sugar-high damnation. Having said that, it is Radio Slave who steals the show with a trippy hump-monster that is deep, dark and long. Instead of adopting the insufferable well of melancholy strings, he masterfully employs the quivering voice of a single violin singing like a lonely siren in the dark storm of beats. Nothing sounds more haunting or powerful. In the hands of Radio Slave, we're putty.
But let that not discourage. Luke Dzierzek presents a more beat-focused piece, only slightly incorporating the original theme of strings, thus saving itself from sugar-high damnation. Having said that, it is Radio Slave who steals the show with a trippy hump-monster that is deep, dark and long. Instead of adopting the insufferable well of melancholy strings, he masterfully employs the quivering voice of a single violin singing like a lonely siren in the dark storm of beats. Nothing sounds more haunting or powerful. In the hands of Radio Slave, we're putty.