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I am a sound wave. One time, I was thrown into a Fuzzbox, where everything shattered into a thousand pieces. I was brought to a house where I was cloned, my duplicates scattered, electric. I watched from afar as they dashed towards repeating landscapes. But I couldn’t stop. I managed to scramble through a tiny opening which turned into a madcap ride through a Whammy. As I still wasn’t satisfied, I journeyed on to find a wha-wha, an overdrive, a phaser, a voltaren and a hairless mare. Intoxicated and debauched, just when I thought nothing else could happen, they clustered me up with my prostituted alter egos. Deformed and mutated, we were all compressed into a tiny space and spat into your world through the end of a trumpet, and now Chupaconcha is blowing your mind.

Sweat, psychedelia, brawn, strobe, lows and highs. If there’s one thing that defines the name Furious Sessions, Chupaconcha is it. Two extraterrestrial Italians who escaped from the mad house and took refuge in the wrong side of the Sants neighbourhood. This session affords us a glimpse of this madness expressed in high-pitched sounds and infinite rhythms. Giuliano and Giorgio, in partnership with Danger Hill, have infected half the continent with their musical insanity. Pretty soon we’ll all need straightjackets to keep from tumbling to the rhythm of Chupaconcha.

So, take a deep breath and keep granddad’s pills handy. You’re gonna need them.
We leave you with the sonorous trip which is Riders, and see you on the other side.