OK, this is a feature about Tosca, but hey, I can"t write about anything Austrian at the moment without shouting aloud "Fuck You" at that bloody fascist wanker Joerg Haider. That done I need to relax which is where we get back to Tosca, or better their latest longplayer "Suzuki", an indeed very relaxing affair, apt to have you chilled more than last winter did and yet heating up any discerning downtempo dancefloor at the moment. Titlewise inspired by one Japanese Monk, "Suzuki" is Tosca"s kind of fourth album, although you could say it"s only their second proper one, the other two being remix affairs of tracks from the first album "Opera".

Tosca is of course the unkrudered Dorfmeister alongside Rupert Huber, an avantgardist composer type of fellow smoker who for example creates the numerous voiceovers typical of Tosca tracks. That"s at least what I guess, since neither Richard nor Rupert will tell you what they do exactly behind closed doors at Vienna"s G-Stone Studios. Just imagine a dj whose tight selections of jazzed up beats, bossa and dub draw huge crowds everywhere from Berlin to New York, Paris, London or Italy, add a piano playing daydreamer and figure the two immersing themselves in sound, bass and rhythm.

There is a brilliant easiness oozing out of Tosca"s music, a feeling of bliss inside the mellow soundscapes and while we are drifting into escapist territory you might relate to the fact that this Suzuki geezer was the man who brought Zen to California in the 60"s.

But don"t fret: there"s no religious fervour or lotus-seated indifference to be found in the 12 tracks of "Suzuki", but one hell of a lot of feisty grooves underneath precisely crafted layers of niceness. Alongside Peter Kruder"s Peace Orchestra album (the one with the band-aid strip on the cover) "Suzuki" is much more than just a suspense moment for that imminent Kruder & Dorfmeister longplayer, it is a (dorf-)meisterwerk of its own. If it gets you wet, check for one of the fine Tosca bathrobes. And behave! On his recent trip to the UK, Richard Dorfmeister was somewhat turned off by the old school rave antics of London clublife. Here"s one dj who regards his sessions, both dj-ing and recording, to be an ongoing artistic process. Give him a hand for that, just don"t wave it in his face. This is more Rock-A-Fellow"s Skunk than Rockafella Skank.