Sex Tapes From Mars sister imprint, Hot Plates turns to junglist misbehaving, with chopped and screwed, pitched down and twitchin’ vocals, merging with ragga choruses. It’s hardwired to the dance but swerving every expectation - soulful chants spiral out like smoke in UV, tangled in a fever dream of gun finger pressure and rewound fragments.
The flip is driven by a deep, bellowing bassline, paired with ominous yet soaring strings. Each part contradicts the next, but somehow it holds, glued together with that early jungle lawlessness. Still sounds raw, still sounds vital - as grittily dangerous now as it was in ‘93.
The original release came as a limited white label 32 years ago, now grailed and silly bob on ‘cogs, lovingly remastered and cut loud, restoring the bite while adding clarity and bottom-end heft that rattles ribs.
With the planet in free fall and the dance scattered, the sentiment hits harder: “All we need now is love and unity”.
Proper summer system tackle. Not a repress - a resurrection.
