Tickle Torture is the sex-pop soundtrack for a new generation of freaks. His first EP, “Spiritual Machete” (2012), felt like catching Justin Timberlake and Prince making out in a dumpster full of broken synthesizers. Equal parts electro-funk and sleaze, his follow-up EP “Spectrophilia” (2014) further expanded this sound, incorporating the influences of trashy disco, experimental hip-hop production sensibilities, and 80’s synth drenched R&B classics to create a one-of-a-kind maximalist assault. Recently relocating from Minneapolis to Los Angeles, one man producer, composer, engineer Elliott Kozel is currently at work on his debut full length LP exploring not just the giddy peaks of modern nightlife, but also the inherent sadness in the 4 am aftermath.
His legendary live shows are an intense stage production: half-party, half performance art with a cavalcade of back-up dancers, confetti cannons, and video projecti...
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Tickle Torture is the sex-pop soundtrack for a new generation of freaks. His first EP, “Spiritual Machete” (2012), felt like catching Justin Timberlake and Prince making out in a dumpster full of broken synthesizers. Equal parts electro-funk and sleaze, his follow-up EP “Spectrophilia” (2014) further expanded this sound, incorporating the influences of trashy disco, experimental hip-hop production sensibilities, and 80’s synth drenched R&B classics to create a one-of-a-kind maximalist assault. Recently relocating from Minneapolis to Los Angeles, one man producer, composer, engineer Elliott Kozel is currently at work on his debut full length LP exploring not just the giddy peaks of modern nightlife, but also the inherent sadness in the 4 am aftermath.
His legendary live shows are an intense stage production: half-party, half performance art with a cavalcade of back-up dancers, confetti cannons, and video projections intent on enveloping the audience in a decadent fantasy. Tickle Torture's ever evolving aesthetics and songwriting continue the hunt for emotional and spiritual deliverance in the darkest corners of the club, when the throbbing bass from the speakers reverberating in your chest and your own heartbeat feel like, for maybe only a few sweaty minutes, are beating totally in sync.
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