Micro Disco Show by Dorus: A Quirky Time Capsule from 1963
Let’s get one thing straight—this album is weird. But in the best possible way. Released back in ’63 by Dutch artist Dorus (on the Rovoz label), Micro Disco Show feels like stumbling into someone’s fever dream of folk, pop, and… uh, non-music? Yeah, that’s right. Non-music. It’s not every day you see that genre tag, but here we are. And honestly? This record wouldn’t work if it weren’t so unapologetically itself.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck with me because they’re just… unforgettable. First up, the title track, “Micro Disco Show.” I mean, what even IS this? The song kicks off with this wonky little rhythm that sounds like a toy piano got into an argument with a bongo drum—and somehow, it works. There’s something charmingly awkward about how Dorus sings over these clunky beats. Like, he’s not trying too hard to impress anyone, which makes it oddly endearing. You can almost picture him standing there in some smoky café in the Netherlands, shrugging his shoulders while everyone else scratches their heads. It’s catchy, though—not in a “I’ll be humming this all week” kind of way, but more like a “Wait, why do I keep thinking about that weird tune?” kind of way.
Then there’s another track—I don’t remember its name exactly—but it had this bizarre mix of country twang and world vibes. Like, imagine a banjo deciding it wants to take a vacation to Morocco or something. Again, it shouldn’t work, but Dorus pulls it off with this laid-back confidence that makes you think, “Yeah, okay, maybe THIS is what music should sound like.” It’s raw, imperfect, and kinda beautiful in its own scrappy way.
Listening to Micro Disco Show feels like flipping through your grandpa’s old photo album and finding pictures of him at a disco before discos were even invented. It’s nostalgic yet completely out of place, like wearing bell-bottoms to a formal dinner. But isn’t that what makes it special? This album doesn’t try to fit neatly into any box—it spills out everywhere, messy and full of life.
And honestly? That’s kinda refreshing. Most modern albums feel polished to death, like they’ve been scrubbed clean of anything remotely human. Not this one. Dorus gives us something real, even if it’s a little rough around the edges.
So yeah, give Micro Disco Show a spin if you’re looking for something different. Just don’t blame me when you start hearing toy pianos in your sleep. Oh, and fun fact: apparently, Dorus also did puppet shows on TV? Like, seriously, who WAS this guy?
