NEW ALBUM – Wnco Mwnco – Disjecta Membra

You knock the door, the club is called ‘Disjecta Membra’, a mean looking guy the size of a brick shithouse opens it. You pay him and you’re lead down some stairs into a basement room, there’s an incredible trippy-trance sound getting louder as you approach… Wnco Mwnco is behind the decks but there’s nothing playing, his/it’s mouth is open and the vibes and sound is her own voice… throbbing all around you…

A waitress brings you a complimentary drink, you go to thank her and realise she has no face… ‘Fuck you God’ she bellows in a deep voice not of this earth… ‘This is weird’ you repeat to yourself as the cocktail of vodka-ketamine kicks in and you begin to dance.
There’s a game of apocalypse bingo going on in another room, the caller is using Imperial post-Brexit numbers and the cards are in Roman numerals, but no one is playing… You begin to trip the light transtastic and the black light strobes rhythmically as you slip toward a crowd of nonsensical juicy memes; all socially distanced.
The faceless waitress taps your shoulder, she screams obscenities at you in Swedish, and you wonder where her voice is coming from… You need to get away from here, at least for a breather. There’s a door, the sign says ‘Y Dyn Bach Coch’ – you go in, it’s a toilet, there’s a man stood there selling aftershave, he introduces himself as Bwci Bo – there’s an evil bass sound pumping through from the previous room. You seek solace in one of the cubicles, you lock the door, and turn around to see a dogfish playing LA Woman in Welsh…