still reeking from the filth of the tv studio, tabloid mongering and howls of blasphemy from the old guard, dj seinfeld is proving to be a hardened veteran of the circuit. a new anti-hero for a humourless and devoid internet age kicking against the hollywood reptiles. ‘ruff hysteria’ is the sounds from the cutting room floor deemed too unsavoury for public consumption. it’s the grind of acid in the hotel lobby and the incessant pulse of a walkman tucked into a tuxedo pocket oozing it’s way into the central nervous system. it’s four tracks abandoned by the mainstream studios picked up by the grotty b-movie generation. the losers, the freaks, gore heads. bare bones tackle for the floor and analogue anthems for the disenchanted.