Friday, 16 May 2014

Readers Waves


Many producers will instantly notice a wave with great form. Sometimes you know you just gotta use a sound when its wave looks beautiful even if you have no need for it within a composition. This blog post is an outlet for some Red Laser Readers to share their sexiest waves and for some others to look on them in an act of voyeurism. Real waves from real people. No airbrushing or touched up shit you get in the magazines.


Kid Machines Wave – Wythenshawe, Manchester



Shaped like a wizards butt plug Kid Machines wave looks ready to penetrate your earholes deeeeep.  You can tell that the long bend is there to maximise joy and deliver that ‘ribbed for your pleasure’ message. Machines wave has gone for the classic monochrome look which shows the body off nicely with its figure hugging black design and what a curvy figure it is ! I’d love to wrap my lobes around that unit! Curvy wavey slut YES


Loge’s Wave – Halifax, Yorkshire


This fucker came with an ‘approach with caution’ message from Loge himself. “Careful you don’t instantly Jizz in your pants” he warned before i scrolled down to reveal this beautiful plump grub like ear tickler. It’s clear from his wave that Loge is partial to a bit of a scrubber. She’s an ‘off the estate’ gal who’s overweight in all the wright places. Its bulges are nicely complemented by the retro green screen glow of his hardware. I recon Log’s wave has vinyl origins as it’s quite the hairy bitch. I must say Loge I love that ‘wave next door’ vibe. Defo hot and achievable.


Moodymanc’s Wave – Whalley Range, Manchester


This mucky wave dropped into the readers waves PO Box from deep house maestro MoodyManc. This beautiful slice of sound porn is one of his favourite Zildjian ride’s on repeat and fuck me does that look like a good ride.  Even better, I always like a wave that’s presented well and Moodymancs is sensually compressed and draped in tasteful shades of green, finishing the outfit in a flattering innocent white although I bet this filthy fuck is far from innocent. Spam dressed as Lamb yo. This funky bitch is perfect audio wave smut. 15 outa 10


LeonxLeon’s Wave – Paris, France


Sacré bleu!!!!!!!  “””Wow!!!!””” This wave is exceeding all the ‘French Wave’ stereotypes. I’ve already cracked off a couple o wanks before writing and I’m booking in one more before I make it to the end of this review. It’s not often I get jealous of another man’s wave but fuck me this is ridiculous!!! Just look at the form! It’s a real treat to see those perfect curves set in classic radar black and simply glowing in the finest old school green. Shit G, this bitch is classy. Like outa my league shit. The kind of centre fold poster from ‘Playwave Magazine’ I had on my wall as a teenager. This truly is a treat from his DX7 Synth. LeonxLeon we salute you. Royal wank bank tackle.


Il Bosco’s Wave – Stretford, Manchester

It don’t feel right not to share my own waves so check this juicy biatch. This is a perfect analogue kick outa the Roland 808 and into the XL2000. You can see she has none of the hairy frizz you get with a sample off a record just straight clean curves. It’s a shaven raver with the smooth edges and a big booty to boot. Fire her up and watch those bassbins wobble. Its playin it safe with the classic early MPC monochrome outfit but that’s the best colour for complimenting those bulky lower frequencies. God daaaaaammmmmm you a sexy wave!!!!


Ste Spandex’s Wave – Levenshulme, Manchester


Check whats Spandex is doin to his waves the kinky bastard!! After getting twisted during 12 hour phet fuelled studio jams in his rave cave he starts getting all Jophrey Beratheon on those bitches by sending them through organite compressors and over the singularity of a CEM Chip black hole to stretch em out. Check that chubby wave get stretched thin as it passes through. If you wanted to shave some bulk of it you could have trimmed it you twisted fuck!! Still Spandex has managed to make his wave damn sexy. From shit to fit. Although a little scrawny for my taste I can still appreciate a tall and pretty catwalk wave tickling my orifices any day of the week. Its an erratic ugly bitch to begin with then classy Vogue tackle at the end. Work it you scrawney wave!!!!


Starion’s Wave – Stretford, Manchester


Starion’s simply called his wave ‘The Clap’ so I was unsure if what I was opening was STD riddled and corrupted!!! Instead we can see Starion likes a hairy one!! Check out the un-kempt frizz on that stereo clap! Starion you dirty bastard. I suppose it takes all kinds to make the world and I’d be lying if I didn’t have my ‘hairy preference’ days. Theres something quite naughty but nice about shaving pube riddled waves with a compressor. When I’m feeling like a dirty little bastard I’ll even add growth by time stretching the fuker. Starions clap still has a great shape and its tastefully presented in 2 shades of blue. Bit o blue for the dads eh Starion?? 

I'd like to thank all the readers that sent their waves. Apologies to those that didnt make the Readers Waves section this time but keep sending. I'll keep any classics to one side for the next feature and the rest for my own personal collection. 


Il Bosco

Saturday, 10 May 2014

WINES 2


The last blog post was pretty much a vehicle to promote the impending Red Laser Disco party in Manchester The Gods shone on Bosco once again. The gaff was one in one out by 12.30. I also made a bit of MONEY (Italo promoter in cash profit shocker!!!!!) I did the rounds getting rid by giving some of the crew a well-deserved bonus.

Proper ace vibes down the Roadhouse


 Also on the night Randy Marsh and Bathtub rocked up with the first ever Red Laser Merch. Seems Marsh has turned his ‘tomb in Levenshulme’ into a slick production line producing everything from from Wet Play edible pens to limited as fuk Red Laser T’s designed by Marsh himself. You can catch this stuff and much more exclusively at virtual Nubian supermarket ‘The Pyramid Suite’. Plenty exclusive shit from Manchester’s finest nights and labels appearing here so, ladies and gents, log on and peruse the isles inside the Great Pyramid on the grid. Ladies – You may even make it out of the Nile! “Wheres that yaks milk biiiaaattch!” "Click here for The Pyramid Suite"


So to the main event. Seems that lots of you enjoyed the wine reviews a while back. Well I know you did cos I’ve been getting mithered to fuk to do a second lot. So here it is, Enjoy with me some crackers ive guzzled over the last few months.

Calusari - Pinot Noir – Romania - 2011


Yeah I couldn’t believe it too when a trusted connoisseur passed the bottle for me to av a scan. Ro-fukin-mania!!!! I spent some time in Romania back in 1999 and travelled it well. If all European countries suddenly turned into people, Romania would be the Bi Polar woman with the heavy periods. She's part amazingly beautiful, part unbearably terrible. Like a grumpy old gardener losing the war against the weeds, political fuckwit Ceausescu tried to concrete the whole fukin country and make it an industrial driveway into to Russia. I saw factory’s that belched unusual colours of smoke from chimneys built as high as 4 meters so I was expecting this tipple to taste of rust, sulphur and Gypsy shit. WRONG!! Just like the Transylvanian Alps this cracker is big, clean and beautiful. It’s also well cheap at around 7 nicker a bottle. While sitting in the garden on a sunny day Its colour was the first thing that hit my senses. It looked like liquefied ruby’s in a glass because of its fantastic bright jewel like appearance. Shit got even better when I started sinkin the bottle. It was so easy to quaff because of its complex mixture of vanilla, morning dew and cherry lips. Yeah that’s right those perfumey sweets shaped like luscious lips you used to get years ago. Verdict - Great outdoor sozzler. Goes well with plastic chairs and massive trampolines.

Errazuriz Wild Ferment - Pinot Noir -2009


Those Chilean dudes keep pumpin out high quality grog and now they kickin one of my favourite grapes too, the Pinot Noir. Possibly the longest thinnest country in the world Chile boasts a 6 and a half thousand mile eastern coastline that converts Pacific moisture into rain falling on mild mannered lama farmers and volcanic mountainside vineyards. The heady mix of fertile and exotic finds itself encompassed in this great wine with a bouquet so big you can smell it well before your chops hit the crystal. Like a big bunch of flowers has been thrust in your face it has a huge nose and then predictably a much subtler taste.  Its soft strawberries and cream decay has a fresh summer feel to it and is great with decent bread and butter or ham and mustard sarnies. Verdict – Mega grog but full only reaches its full potential if you've got massive nostrils

La Umbra – Merlot – Romania - 2012


Once again its Ro-Fukin- mania. Those Romany gypos must of realised theirs no money to be made flogging flashing badges to pissed up bulbs outside nightclubs, selling bunches of heather and peddling ‘curse reverse’ charges. Instead they’ve got the whole family stomping on grapes and boy do those Romanian wines taste good. I was in Nisa down the road and spotted this at £7.00 on the shelf. (Nisa = Lower ranks corner shop chain) That’s well expensive for Nisa!  7 quid for an onslaught of jammy plums, sundried berries and gritty tannins. Beware – half a bottle of this will leave your teeth  looking like you’ve been munching the Mrs at the wrong time of the month. (Does not apply to post-menopausal readers).  Verdict - Ace with meat

Musar Jeaune Rouge – Lebanon - 2011


I just can’t get enough of Lebanese wine at the moment. Château St Thomas and Chateau Musar  never fail to give me a hard on. And talkin of the latter I’m returning to that same vineyard I did in the first wines blog for another review but this time legendary wine maker Gaston Hochar has made it affordable for all us skint fukers that wanna just drink good shit at austerity prices. Chateaux Musar have created a young wine, not for storage or decanting. A straight outa da bottle hustler that’s cheeky as fuk and still delivers. Its around 8 quid in Booths and has all the characteristics of its vintage cousin but with a lot subtler depth. This young sexy fuk delivers leather and liquorice across the back of the tongue while tingling the tip with spiced damson and black berries. Its like snoggin a 35 year old glass collector workin in Witherspoons who’s addicted to cherry flavoured lip balm. Verdict - Fun and moreish. Fantastic with a cig

Angelo Veglio – Barolo,  Italy - 2008



This review comes with a story of how NOT to run your bespoke wine store. While Bosco was deep in his quest for inspirational wines to blog on about he noticed a new wine shop had sprung up in Chorlton, which is Manchester’s ‘hipster of a certain age’ capital. I decided it would be the place for me to go and get that budget buster needed to complete the blog post and so I thought about what I could purchase.  A classic Italian Borolo was the first inspiration to penetrate my dome because of its expensive notoriety and ace ‘roll off the tongue’ regional name. I had high hopes for a new genre of wine shop with an original outlook including an ‘everyone is welcome’ ethos. What I actually experienced was the fukin opposite! I opened the door into a (admittedly) well designed space. But immediately the first warning alarm went off in my bonce, No fukin music? Compete silence!!            

To make the silence worse, the door shut behind me and I was the only punter in the shop. Also to make this situation worserer, the guy behind the counter just fukin stared at me.  

S I L E N C E

I spoke first ‘Iya mate you alrite?” (Now I was doin his fukin job!!)  He nodded and I realised my accent hadn’t helped the situation. What situation u ask? The bald Salfordian wearing a black gortex jacket in a wine shop type situation. This fuk must have thought he was getting robbed or summat. He had the expression of a bank teller lookin for the ‘under counter alarm button’ while never actually lookin down….. SO lets investigate the first 40 seconds of my experience - Wheres the fukin customer service? Where’s the bright and breezy ‘Hello, come in, come in. Please take a look around and if you have any questions or want any advice I would be happy to help.”????  The situation had already made me wish I was in a supermarket!!!! Things did not get any better. “Got any Borolo’s mate?” “er Yes” said the 6 foot corpse, and he reluctantly walked to the back of the shop and pointed at some bottles on a high shelf. “We have 2” he said and proceeded to watch me struggle on tippy toes trying to reach the bastard bottle, then wobble off balance nearly takin out all the bottles below. I thought “what the fuk am I doin?” I didn’t care anymore. I was gonna make this awkward for my own amusement.  I turned up the accent for affect. “e ar mate your tall init get that for me for fuks sake”. He did  without saying a word and we found ourselves back at the counter without any bottle information given, alternatives offered or advice for culinary marriages. I turned up the heat “Yer ever get any Lebanese shit in ere mate?” His answer was simply  - “no”. I asked if there was a website and finished him off by promising I would book for me and ‘my crew’ to attend there next wine tasting session.



In short it was a painful experience. The thing is I worked it out that me and the Mrs on average sink around 4 bottles a week. Average price 7 nicker. 4 x 7 =£28. £28 x 52 = £1450.00 a year just in our gaff. If those cunts had 20 gaffs like ours buying from them then that’s £30k a year. There must be a thousand houses like ours in Stretford alone lads. Sort it out. If others have the same experience as me they would potentially lose a fortune. I will go in again and give it one more chance. They may have had a bad day but if it was about stigma then theyr fucked and probably be closed in a year.

Anyway the wine – Borolo’s are famously pricey and at so 19 quid this was a cheapo bottle. The fuker had to be decanted for at least an hour so we had it poured well before our evening scran. When the time was right we engaged our senses on the tipple. It has a nice clear garnet colour with what seemed to be very little tannins. The legs on the glass looked like they belong to Linford Christie and no wonder at 14% alcohol. The Mrs (the wonderful Emerald) immediately picked up the smell of almonds on the nose. “Hints of Bakewell tart” she said, which was bang on the money. Even tho the nose was deep the grog itself was sharp and cut the tongue with cranberries and cherry. This got better with every flush and is typcal of some strong wines that sometimes need your gob to adjust before its potential can be achieved. By glass number 2 I was sold and was throwing it down my neck. Verdict - Even tho the bottle recons this is best taken with meats and hard cheeses I advise Horror Disco and Analogue Chug


Il Bosco