THE RECORD I’LL ALWAYS CONSIDER A SECRET WEAPON KW Griff, “Bring in the Katz” (Night Slugs, 2012) connolly: This was my secret weapon for almost two years before we released it; every time I’d drop it, the clubs would explode and everyone would come up to the booth asking, “What the fuck is that ‘katz’ song?” I kept it under wraps for so long. It’s so weird to see the likes of Skrillex and Bauuer drop this Baltimore club anthem; they even rewind it three times after every Boiler Room set! For the moment I’m keeping my current secret weapon close to my chest.
THE RECORD THAT REMINDS ME OF GOING TO RAVES AS A KID Shy FX + UK Apachi, “Original Nuttah” (Sour, 1994) connolly: When I first started raving, I used to go to a jungle/drum ’n’ bass night called Lunacy at this dingy club in Brighton. It was a total sweat pit, but me and my friends lived for it. We would turn up when it opened and dance solidly until the bitter end. Only one DJ ever played the main room, Chris Natural. He was just a local, but he was like a god to us. He knew exactly how to drive us fucking crazy. At the end of the night he would always stop the music, the lights would come on, and everyone in the club would chant, “One more tune! One more tune!” Sometimes for up to 10 minutes! Eventually he would cave in and drop the biggest anthem; for the first six months of my time there, “Original Nuttah” was that track. I have never seen a rave go off crazier since.
Jon Hopkins on tour dining My routine on arrival: Check into the hotel, head to the soundcheck, try and work out why nothing works, persuade everything to work, then head out to dinner. The evening meal is usually the only time we get to relax and appreciate that we are far from home. As I’ve gotten older, the call of partying
has gotten quieter, while the desire to eat well has grown exponentially greater. I fell in love with Polish food on my first visit there. When unfamiliar with a cuisine, I like to start with classic dishes, so it was pierogi and zurek. Both were so homely, satisfying and delicious; they make you feel like a better human just for eating them. I once played a street gig in Katowice in late autumn. Before the show in
the biting cold, we were served rare beef in freshly baked white rolls, with a hot, clear chicken broth and a shot of honey-infused vodka. These things filled me with an amazing internal warmth for the whole night. If nations have a defining characteristic, and I believe they do, then it is represented in their food. Not sure what this says about the English. ST—047