Let's Play House Records News

The latest from Dam Swindle's Sound Support alias, Méhari, will keep you warm and bouncy, wailing and flailing, all through the fall and winter.

Big electro energy on this five-track EP. Funky, sassy synth melodies snaked around tight and punchy drums that instantly make you wiggle like a worm.

It starts with the title track, a thumper with a herky-jerky swing, then slides into a slightly more melodious and noodly territory before completing with “Detox Your Feelings,” a high-speed Hi-NRG and Italo disco rocket ship off this planet into interstellar space.

Like any good party, there's an after-party. What, you didn't think we'd keep it going? C'mon.

We began this one with Jacques Renault's Sky Islands, a full-length album that sought to achieve euphoric disco delight within a wonky conceptual framework; it's his late-night live DJ sets in spirit, organized like a 70s or 80s vinyl megamix or public-access radio program, but comprised solely of a couple dozen originals he crafted in the studio, most of them being wrapped up during the summer and fall of last year.

Of course, we realized delivering such an experience, where no “song” is more than about 90 seconds, would do nothing for the working DJ, unless the working DJ is looking to nod off for thirty or take an extended bathroom break. Thus, Coast to Coast, a 12-inch that collects seven of the songs from the LP—in full- length, special-disco-mix, club-ready form.

This EP will be followed by more long-form cuts, as well as additional goodies. There will be an after-party for the after-party.

For his third full-length album, Jacques Renault explores his craft through the format of the classic late-night radio megamix. It's a tour de force that finds him blending his quick-cutting DJ sensibilities with his crate-digging, drum-chopping disco-chemist bonafides into one wham-bam party of pastiche. This is Renault as we know him—but at hyperspeed, tearing through twenty- three tracks in under half an hour. And while it's a head rush of his trademark funky drums, sassy horns, playful synths, it's arranged as an album, with songwriting and structure at the fore. Imagine it as a flip on the script for Renault's most loved club 12-inches of the past, which luxuriate in long-form, stretched-out grooves that burn for hours, fills that ride for days. Instead of on pulling a thread for six, seven minutes, he romps around in a bouncy ball pit, plucking out whatever captures his imagination for a moment, then diving back in to discover another buried
nugget. It's Jacques Renault as we've always known him, but this time through a suite of bite-size vignettes instead of slow-burn grooves.

Our second record from Sweden's Sune is a proper full-length. Ten tracks, forty- five minutes—classic LP!

And it's arranged as such, too; it tells a story through tightly-arranged chapters. Early on in the journey, they're bouncy and whimsically animated, pillowy white clouds slowly drifting across an azure sky. As we get more invested, the tempo rises and the warm, squishy house beats feel as though they can't always quite keep up. A delight. To conclude the A-side, Sune brings a twinkly ballad, a late- night Joe Jackson piano serenade with instrumental hip-hop drums keeping everything in place.

The other side only wants to party; it begins with a wiggly bass lick that's got a wicked charm to it, and continues to explore the unusual jazz-club-meets- sweaty-warehouse space that Sune's compositions are so often possessed with. The B concludes as the A did, with a lilting, hopeful, and heartfelt send-off. Everything is fine? Everything is fine.
Everything is fine.

What was it Dorothy said?

A few months back, we released Westcoast Goddess' LPH debut, The Inner Snoopy, a classic house EP reincarnated as one of those giant rainbow-colored lollipops. And that really wasn't enough, so now we have a second four-tracker from the guy, a continuation of the technicolor adventure through nightclubs in the Kingdom of Caring.

Pop it on and feel the sugar rush, feel your pupils dilate, feel your heart race and swell with joy.

“I Do It,” the A1, is a 90s R&B jam—imagine Aaliyah—recontextualized into an acid-flecked big-room chugger. “Do It,” which follows, starts on the same foot, but strips the vox and charges straight into business, upping the BPM a smidge
along the way.

Then, “B3,” a nimble, electric ditty that fits its percussion squarely at the front and center of the mix, making it into a subversively deadly drum track. Rounding out the record is Baltra's version of “B3,” which takes the essence of the original and wraps it tight in atmospheric wigginess. It's a head-spinner and gives the EP a slightly psychedelic conclusion.

Imagine a Kerri Chandler track anthropomorphized, then jammed into a Japanese purikura photo booth for a series of bedazzled, glittered, and airbrushed headshots. Imagine that image set to music. What do you hear? Westcoast Goddess' The Inner Snoopy, a frenetic house workout that is puzzlingly contemporary, classic, and alien.

The four-track EP kicks off with the title track, a cloud of cotton candy, supersaturated hot pink, threaded with twinkly bells and a bass shuffle that flips and flops around with cheerful abandon.

“Limelight Golden Age” and “Murder at Passion Cove,” the two tunes that follow, assume a quietly sinister tone, introducing minor-key piano pounds and pinched synth riffs that stretch to the heavens to complicate the overwhelming joyousness of the instrumental palette and arrangement.

A subtly ironic 12-inch that satirizes and lampoons the bubblegum, technicolor sounds from our hyperactive age while hearteningly finding beauty within it all.

Bah — words, words, word! It's wildly fun party music imbued with idiosyncratic humor and life-affirming happiness.
Play it loud, play if often.

A spiritual successor to our last Sleazy McQueen 12", Daikaya is a slab of buttery, slow-burn disco that coats the dance floor in molasses, making the party move with a certain sensuality.

The four-track vinyl EP includes three originals, all by Sleazy McQueen and Terry Grant, and one remix, courtesy of Versatile chief, Gilb’R, who turns the title track inside out and gives it a creeping, alien presence while not letting go of its starry-eyed, luscious warmth. For the digital edition, a second version, stripped down and dubby, is tacked on as a bonus.

As we descend into winter and the end of 2019, an EP that, like the shorter, overcast days, is chilly and stark, yet accented with rays of sun that crack through the clouds, glints of starlight, full-moon rises.

These five tracks—six for the digital version—come from Eluize, a Berlin-based Australian gifted at simmering minimal yet acerbic house potions over low heat, patiently coaxing them to a slow boil. Mischievous, creeping concoctions that approach and build sneakily, as layer upon layer is looped, expanded, condensed, dropped out, and slid back in. Each is a beautifully musical piece, too, with as much evolving melody as hypnotizing groove.

An LPH soundtrack for nights that stretch on forever, lit only by blinking lights that break apart seas of heavy fog and slice between silhouetted bodies.

Late-summer joy from two long-time Glaswegian party-makers, James “Harri” Harrison, a resident at the legendary Sub Club for over thirty years, now crossing the aisle from DJ to producer, and Max Raskin, together known as Manakinz.

The four tracks (five on the digital version) contained are saucy, sassy late-night bangers meant to keep you locked into a permanent groove hovering right around that 124-BPM sweet spot. Sharp, punchy house oiled with groovy disco grease.

Our first long-player for 2019, Daze Island, by French producer Malouane, is a seasonally-appropriate departure for Let's Play House that's more summertime meditation than dance-floor ammo.

Across these ten tracks, Malouane takes us on new age-indebted journeys down cobblestone paths banked with flowering cherry blossom, to clear-sky tropical beach sunsets, on hang glider flights across endless fields of golden wheat. As the LP progresses, the tempo picks up and the ambient washes and puffs of pads pull back to make way for dancier rhythms, but even in these moments, Daze Island is a tranquil affair, pressed first and foremost with a desire to independently explore the mysterious worlds within.

Ray Kandinski's debut for LPH, Multiverse Connection, presents itself as the soundtrack to an airborne chase scene in an imagined cyberpunk epic. Excited synth lines wiggle through dense fields of metallic drum sequences and showers of jagged, jutting robo effects. The A-side is a launch into outer space orbit, the B, a juiced-up zigzag across the stars in hyperdrive. Futuristic house built with angular electro components and scalpel-sharp acid.

A fireball to accelerate our post-winter thawing.

Spanish producer Pe´pe's first foray on LPH.

It starts off unassumingly, with a bright, airy beach boogie that's all gentle drums and trebly synth figurations, but it quickly turns its eye to the strobe-lit nightclub, first with 'Delusions of Grandeur,' an angular hypnosis of syncopated rhythms, then with 'Aerial,' a 130 BPM blitz with an epic build and an equally dramatic breakdown. Capping it off is '50 AM,' which, as the name indicates, is a woozy shuffle that'll help you land the plane nice and easy.

After more than seven years of mostly sticking to the script are predominantly releasing house music, we're trying something different out and giving you an ambient album.
Zenzizenz's debut LP, Where We Will Be, is icy and intense yet full of heart, a. delicately, carefully crafted journey that slowly soothes you into its bottomless depths. The first two songs have a shadow of a pulse, but by the third, the beat has vanished and we're left with only waves and crashes and heaves of nebulous sound that breathes with a controlled calmness.

In 2015, something magical happened. We met a couple of talented young Swedes named Artur Bra¨ndstro¨m and Egil Kahlbom who excelled at composing and producing these lighthearted, breezy disco-hued house tracks (or house- hued disco tracks, perhaps) that both fit the aesthetic and character of LPH and brought something new into the fold. The result of that first encounter was Marathons, a full-length album, their debut to the world, and now, two years later, we're back for the much-anticipated follow-up.

Rehearsal is a little briefer than its predecessor—it's five tracks—and has a markedly different tone, one that's less about dusty, sun-bleached samples and more about tightly-engineered and delicately-crafted songs. If the first effort was marked by its carefree naivete´, the sophomore effort is, well, something a bit more advanced or, perhaps, rehearsed.

What hasn't changed, though, is these guys' ability to home in on grooves and coax something trasncednetally hooky, memorable out of them. The five tracks contained here are low-key in attitude but powerful and punchy in approach. They're uniquely juicy, nourishing numbers for mellow hours and fearlessly fun ditties for party hours.Lots of love went into the lot of them, and we hope all's you feel when you let them wash over you is that. Love.

At long last, Mr. Jacob Korn gets drafted into Team LPH! Technically, he's been in our orbit since 2015, when he remixed a Leo Wölfel track for LPH WHITE, but it's only now that we're presenting an EP of originals by him. About time!

My Business is classic Korn—a little nerdy (intricate arrangements; twisty, turny top-line melodies), a little ravey, a little goofy, a little feisty, and a lotta fun. Four sure-shot firebombs that'll slip into any set, hand in glove, real nice.

Try 'em out. Wield 'em well.

We talked a ton about LPH co-owner and -founder Jacques Renault's debut LP, Zentrum, so let's keep things brief and cut to the chase for Off Zentrum, the first remix EP to be spun off from that record.
Four remixes, all by LPH family members, all burners. First one's by Borrowed Identity, second one's by Nicholas, third on's by Massimiliano Pagliara, fourth one's by Max McFerren. How multicultural! That's two continents and four countries represented! Hot dog!

As with their first various artist compilation EP, Let's Play House has chosen to grab tracks from a handful of artists both new and old to the label and party. Portuguese duo Johnwaynes released the I Can See EP on the imprint in July of 2012 and Belgium's Mugwump has been part of the company's NYC party stable since 2010. The newcomers here—montel and Last Waltz—are obvious shoe-ins for inclusion in the roster.

As with the last V/A, this one tells a cohesive aural story. montel kicks the thing off with a no-nonsense jackin' house boogie, underscored by a slightly-out-of-tune and elastic bass that infects your whole body. Johnwaynes darkens the mood a bit without loosing montel's sense of urgency. The track throbs forward with the assistance of another thick bass, scattered synth ditties, herky-jerky hats, and breathy overlaid effects, giving it a cavernous vibe.

Brussels-based troublemakers Mugwump start the flip with a tune that seamlessly fits into their cannon—it sounds so familiar that it's hard to believe it's only just come out. As always, the duo's foundation is a choppy, hook-laden bass that's wrapped in playful synth lines, water-submerged effects, and big drums suitable for the largest of rock stadiums. Then Last Waltz wraps the whole affair up with their own melodious house boogie. As with the A2, theirs is more somber and spooky, yet just as catchy and addictive as the brighter montel and Mugwump songs. Imagine this EP as a miniature rendering of one of LPH's warehouse parties: it's big, bold, and lots of fun, while still having an obvious sense of a buildup, peak, and comedown.