Whatever your take on disco punk Dada, maybe make sure you’re ready to change it. Trade your Hot Chips for cash, collect all Chk Chk Chks, and tune into Sex Pizzul weirdness.   

‘Supersocrates’ flicks through a record collection of late 70’s funk, frantic French electronica, and Talking Heads style uber-indie. What spins out of this jukebox of samples on shuffle is a cool heady carnival sound. Its pulses propel, its breaks push and pull, and the heat of the beat is the king. Maybe more than the king – It’s the kink. And if sinister neons set to slick disco strings don’t hook you hard in the aurals, don’t worry, the club basslines will. This is music to dance, solo prance and romance to, in a Berlin based basement for kicks.

So with the weird and the wired all but seen too, it’s time for the downright absurd. ‘Dr. Socrates’ could be the offcut of offcuts, the gristle that’s cut from the gristle. But in what could be an avant-garde advert for insurance, there is something that’s gloriously silly. Vocals bounce like a beach ball of hot air and syllables, sounds surround with a lo-fi abandon. If it didn’t have charm it might just give you hives, but it’s cool and auteurishly cute.

There’s one more to the three track EP, though the highlights above keep the focus. ‘Supersocrates’ is a black-devil dance floor concoction that induces an all-too-wide smile.