What a long, crazy and amazing trip it’s been for Pete Dafeet. In 2005 he co-founded Lost My Dog Records with friends Ian Straker and Najan Ward. During this time he helped cultivate and bring proper deep house to the forefront and rocked dance floors all over the globe. Through good and bad times, he managed to stay true to his artistic vision, never wavering to the lure of commercialism.
Having mutually decided to wind down the label, Lost My Dog’s final release fittingly comes in the form of Dafeet’s The Root, The Soul, a triumphant album comprised of eight deep-house gems that could only have been realized thanks to Dafeet’s multitude of musical experiences over the past decade.
With Lost My Dog ending on a high note, Pete looks back on his favorite label moments of the past decade. Continue Reading →
Skin-tanning soul that looks past the cocktail umbrella, funky house that can poke its tongue out, electro pop gloss opening curtains to spectacular views in an ’80s scented paradise…Matt Rhythm and Ant Plate have pulled out all the stops as well as their own fingers. Fifteen years on from their opening release – they either should know what goes into an album or are really plunging themselves in at the deep end after nothing but 12”s and EPs – it’s a live conversion sounding far more Transatlantic than its humble UK grounding lets on. And they have one CSI Miami appearance more than the rest of us.
With lyrics pleasing in their irregularity (“Blue Ocean”), ice pole-cool pop extensions and slick dance floor grabs (“Not Like That”), the Plate’s pot pourri is loaded with variables that easily take up the challenge of being able to act streetwise before moving back towards the sensitive. Snippy houser “Satellite” links into electro heat-seeker “Digital Entry”, followed by hip-hop boom-boxer “Cut Price Air Cut”; then “Keep a Light On” and “Moments” slide like an ice cube down a glass of good stuff, both building on the duo’s bedrock of producing instrumental and incidental backdrops.
It’s unclear what possessed RP to include “King of Rubbish,” a branch out too many that acts like a post-midnight set of overfed Gremlins. Skip this, extend your summer with the rest and let the Plate hit you.