Introducing… The Colonel!
I was born half man, half bassline.
At age 17, I accidentally became a DJ when I woke up one day to discover that I had been collecting shit-hot vinyl all my life, had bought some decks without realising, and then tripped over a stray badger straight into my first club gig.
Soon, misguided people asked me to play at their clubs and parties, and when the word got out that my DJing was not bad enough to actually kill anyone, the bookings absoultely started to trickle in, er… like wildfire.
As a lifelong musician, it would have been silly not to start producing too. But not as silly as my producing ended up being. My mis-spent youth raving to jungle, garage, funk, jazz and hip-hop has, I think, all been mashed into the music I make, spliced with a dose of good ol’ British knees-up-muvva-Brown humour and silliness. And of course, bass lines.
I am also a qualified, time-served industrial abseiler. That means that if you want to book me to DJ at your office party, twenty stories up, I will probably be able to do it from the outside of the building, suspended on a rope. And maybe I’ll clean the windows while I’m there. But that’ll cost extra.
Aside from all that, I’m also an obsessive perfectionist about tea, an enthusiastic (but badly co-ordinated) footballer, a big fan of fancy dress and a veteran party animal.
Hailed by none as “the DJ Otzi of bass music”, and hailed by many as “that twat in the army helmet”, my alter-ego will keep churning out music, as long as you lot keep letting him get away with it.
The Colonel will personally come and smash your party to bits, should you request this service.
Now let’s get fucking CRUNK!