It's hard to know when, or whether, the Australian one-man dance act known as Muscles is being serious. Live, ensconced behind a tower of keyboards and contraptions, he'll yell to his hipster crowd, "This is my trance song! Do you all like trance?!" Before anyone can respond, he'll launch into a lo-fi version of trippy synth runs, churned by a propulsive, primitive drumbeat and punk-ified with his husky, accented yell-singing. And people will go bananas, wetting all over the floor with awkwardly animal dance lust and without the... More >>>