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Unknown Artist
Happy Sweet Dreams
๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฎ ๐ฟ๐ง๐๐๐ข๐จ โ ๐ ๐๐ค๐ง๐๐ค๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ ๐ก๐ค๐ค๐ฅ ๐ค๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ก๐ค๐ค๐ง ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ค๐ง๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐จ, ๐๐ง๐ค๐ข ๐๐๐ง๐ง๐ฎ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ฃโ๐จ ๐ข๐๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ฅ๐ ๐ง๐๐๐ก๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐๐๐ฉ๐ค๐ง ๐๐ค๐จ๐๐๐คโ๐จ ๐ง๐๐ฏ๐ค๐ง-๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ช๐จ.
Imagine Ministry of Sound, 1991: Levan behind the decks, house rarities pouring out, and then โ that unmistakable hi-hat from Rare Earthโs โHappy Song.โ Just as the groove settles into hypnotic perfection, the dark pulse of Eurythmicsโ โSweet Dreamsโ cuts through the mix like an electric shock. Thereโs no Shazam, no email, no clue โ only the kind of transcendence that etches itself into the collective memory of a dance floor.
Three decades later, the origin of that moment surfaces. โHappy Dreamsโ reveals itself as a meticulous reel-to-reel splice by Victor Rosado, Levanโs close ally and kindred craftsman, merging Detroitโs psychedelic soul with British synth-pop in one timeless, floor-devastating hybrid.
On the B-side, a reimagining of Grace Jonesโ โSlave to the Rhythmโ flips orchestral grandeur into a slow-burning percussion workout, a leftfield DJ tool for when the room needs to breathe before rising again.
A lost chapter in club mythology โ restored, replayed, and ready to light up a new generation of sound systems.
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