Two masked figures. One old car.A slow-motion ride through the birthplace of house.No storyline. No rush. Just 4 guys, shadows, and a groove.Dizzy Panda and Slaakmut, suited and masked, chasing a beat across time on their way to Chicago. A tribute, a mood, and a damn good cup of PR Coffee.
Always in a suit. Always in control.No one’s sure if he’s dancing or just off balance.Headphones on — world off.He doesn’t talk much.The bass does that for him.Born from loops and late nights.He moves sideways — but always forward. And wherever Dizzy Panda goes...Slaakmut’s not far behind...
He speaks softly. People still listen.No need to shout when you already know the ending.Born in the quiet suburbs of Zeewijk.Now he’s the lawyer you call when the others won’t pick up.Old friends. New problems. Same suit.He offers you a seat —then takes the floor.
