Introducing… Sega Bodega

Our Introducing... series focuses on artists who we think are worth shouting about. Here we have Glaswegian producer, Salvatore Navarette, AKA Sega Bodega.

Introducing… Sega Bodega Here at Bearded we aim to shed light on acts who don't necessarily have giant labels or muscley budgets waving banners behind them. This Introducing series will focus on artists who we think are great, regardless of how much hype surrounds them or where their origin story lays.

Name: Sega Bodega
Location: Glasgow, UK
Genre: Neo-dance
Similar Artists: SBTRKT, James Blake
Contact: Facebook, Twitter
Events: Supporting Flume July 18th at Gorilla, Manchester

Salvatore Navarette, as his Sega Bodega alter-ego, is part of a new wave of producers and dance talents, shunning the huge plastic beats of Guetta et al. and concentrating on crafting slick avante-garde beats under a mask of reticent coyness. Like The Child Of Lov, he's got a mysterious aura that, far from being of detriment, aids in building his profile via heaps of hype; by releasing few personal details, he becomes enigmatic and enticing.

It's not just about the superficiality for Sega Bodega though. He's been remixing and tweaking for a while, tackling the likes of pop sensation Lana Del Rey, Jakwob and Dan Croll. One of the major events to impact his career was after he dropped acclaimed cut 'We Don't Know What Sexy Is', catching the attention of SBTRKT, who subsequently offered him a support slot. His recent 34 EP was a rousing success, achieving vast critical plaudits. It's plain to see that he's got the chops to back up any hype.

On 34, we saw a multitude of sounds and styles. 'Tantarantana' is a sinister cut. Looming dubstep lurches and creaking bass behemoths do battle with synth horns and trippy beats, clattering against huge futuristic hooks. It's like the soundtrack to a Hollywood sci-fi blockbuster from the year 3000. 'Konerak', named after a victim of Jeffrey Dahmer, is brimming with roughly hewn samples and the rampant blossoming of tenderised vocals; it's jagged and angular with a buzzsaw. Jittery caffeine-OD beats skitter underfoot, and though it's chaotic, it's actually fairly tranquil (there's an oxymoron if there ever was one). It manages to be a chilled-out nu-rave number that's fast-tracked for dancefloors. 'Tuomi', also named after a victim of Dahmer, is a glittering glitch-step ditty. There's a luxurious lustre amongst 8-bit mayhem; as if hearing the innards of a bank vault through a SNES. It's VIP-lounge chic.

Sega Bodega sounds are still light on the ground. His apparent callous disregard for the conventions of dance and flouting of discerned genres is breathtaking. While you can pinpoint some elements or familiar strands within 34 and the other shards of music in the ether, it's difficult, on the whole, to pigeonhole his style into something that's widely recognised. He utilises a cornucopia of sounds to evoke the most intense emotions; be they euphoria, fear, rage or depression, Sega Bodega can incite them.

He's recently announced the recording of his debut LP via Twitter, so hopefully after it's gestated and spat out in a few months, we'll have another slab of greatness adorning our ears. In the mean time, he'll surely drop more remixes, and, of course, 34 is available to become your new favourite record right now.