DBR025: Marcus Price – Continental Skank
Support already from Crookers, Brodinski, Tony Senghore, Gina Turner, Neoteric, Brenmar, Swick, Savage Skulls, Bag Raiders, Don Rimini, J-Wow of Buraka Som Sistema, Voltron, Cedaa, Deebs, Feadz, Brent Tactic etc.
After honing over a decade of production skills and winning two Swedish grammys, it’s safe to say Scandinavia’s Marcus Price has carved out his own untouchable genre. Piecing together trace elements of skweee, juke, ghettotech, booty bass and house, his “Continental Skank” EP on Discobelle Records is a Night Of The Living Dead amalgamation of genres that twitches and springs to life and immediately starts shaking ass on the dancefloor when you hit play. Shocking, strange but suprisingly seductive? Either way, we’re excited to present four original productions as well as a next-level Richelle remix from our Pelican Fly alumni.
“Continental Skank” kicks off sounding like a piece of razor wire getting tightened in a vise – it oozes a tight, high strung kind of organ grinder sleaziness fit for back alleys of industrial neighbourhoods, horse meat manufacturing plants, and stumbling off a plane arriving in Tokyo, too drunk to see straight. Backed up with a horn line that sounds like a cascade of hallucinogenic fireworks shooting into carnivale, it’s probably the most intense breakfast-food themed dance track in the history of the planet.
“Hector Riddim” begins as a single wailing electrical guitar which gradually travels over a minefield of ratcheted up drum programming, loading gun clacks and slightly rusty, Scandinavian government airhorns reserved for warning the population about airstrikes. It’s reverberated bass rumble pushes it somewhere between saavy tech-house and unrestrained Miami booty bass.
Meanwhile, “Commercial” gets aggressive on a “white static interrupted TV signal” tip, darting in and out of conflicting rhythms, going from dub reggae to space aged E-Funk to pinging 808s reverberating in your eardrums. If you could bottle attention deficit disorder into a delicious tasting beverage, it’d be something like this.
“Panty Drop” begins as a Digital Undergroundesque hip hop outro and throws a flurry of assaulting toms and escalating arpeggios together, like an extra cut from Dre’s “2001” found its way into a space capsule and came back to earth a few decades later on a glowing piece of translucent vinyl with some apocalyptic chicken scratch scrawled on it.
But the Richelle Remix of “Continental Skank” threatens to uproot the whole release; a colossal two-step anthem hooked up to an IV of codeine laced purple cough syrup, it embodies everything about Pelican Fly that we love, bridging influences of Cybotron’s endlessly upwards scaling “Clear” and Missy Elliot’s Southern influenced “Get Low”. Part of the power of Richelle’s version is the way it utilizes empty space to powerful effect- whether it’s the percolating, bubbling tar bubbles of bass that swim up to the surface, or the barely there guttural grunts playing underneath ominous piano keys, this is a post-apocalyptic futuristic vision of the potential beats that Young Jeezy will be rapping on in five years if there’s any justice in the Universe.