This is a weekly series of genre descriptions. If you disagree with my descriptions, you’re probably wrong. It’s OK. It happens to the best of us.
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It’s like listening to a musical prodigy attempting to compose grandiose pieces. Upon revealing their latest opus, the prodigy finds out that they were cursed by an unholy spell to be compelled to use every damn sound effect on their keyboard. All attempts at breaking the curse have only mild success: repeatedly using the same effect instead of all of them.
It’s like listening to an urban spirit, its soulful, sexy energy seduces your limbs into rhythmic movement. The moon rises and slumbers during your ensorcelled fit of dance. When the spirit finally releases you from the dance, you aren’t sure what month it is.
Inspired by Lauer & Canard.
It’s like listening to an ocean made of steel. Steel sheets of waves break free of the open sea, charging to shore like implacable juggernauts. Exploding upon the shore, the waves shake your very soul into movement.
Inspired by Manolin “el Medico de la Salsa”.
It’s like listening to a skyship shaking free its earthly moorings and soaring straight to strange lands, stranger folk, and adventure. During the middle of its voyage, a dark cloud crawls in front of the sun, casting snakes of shadows slithering across the deck. But, the skyship’s drive fires brightly, brashly brushing the darkness away.