Eyes of emerald, story untold,
Together we soar, Space Disco Amore
From the factories and flickering streetlights of Chicago comes Santo Gato, the moniker of Daniel Lucero: a man who bends machines to his will, stitching together the sweat-soaked throb of electro, the sleek shimmer of Italo, and the cold pulse of electronica.
Raised in the circuitry and sweat of Chicago’s storied electronic underbelly, Santo Gato both tips his hat to – and hotwires – history by drawing lifeblood from Legowelt, The Hacker, and Kraftwerk, siphoning their voltage and sending it careening down neon-lit corridors. Imagine Giorgio Moroder slipping through the back door of a Daft Punk afterparty. There’s rawness, yes, but it’s sharpened, surgical, the precision of someone who’s spent nights letting warehouse walls sweat, letting dance floors buckle beneath boot and body. Santo Gato’s sound revs forward, bridging past to present in motorik motion. Circuits blur, beats bruise, and beneath it all hums the unrelenting pulse of sleepless cities, spinning somewhere between machine and man, memory and movement.
Space Disco Amore spins like a silver-plated satellite, a fevered hymn to midnight mischief and cosmic longing. Two lovers, serpent-winged and wild-eyed, swirl through the velvet void: eyes bright, stories unsaid, tethered to each other by gravity and desire. Saturn’s cube casts its shadow, black angel vampires whisper through the ether. The beat drives forward, relentless, relentless, a carousel orbiting a neon moon.
Synths shimmer like starlight scattered across a dancefloor; vocoder voices rise and fall, ghostly and glimmering, while the bassline churns steady beneath, a pulse as persistent as the pull of distant planets. Space Disco Amore thrums with analogue electricity: synths spiraling skyward, drum machines hammering like pistons, basslines thick enough to tow a freight train.
Santo Gato doesn’t overcomplicate; there’s no need. This is a soundtrack for sweat-slicked skin, for those who dance until dawn blurs, for those chasing the glint of forbidden light. Step in, spin out…let the rhythm swallow you whole. The music says more than words ever could.
Listen below:
Follow Santo Gato: