Let's Go Disco (misprints) Hand Pulled Screenprint

Screen printing at its most honest. When the squeegee catches, when the registration shifts half a millimetre, when the ink bleeds just past where it should stop — that's where these five prints live.

This is disco stripped of its perfection. Not the sanitised version that ended up in shopping centres, but the raw energy that filled basements and backrooms. The kind of disco that happened when the lights went down and nobody was watching. Each misprint carries that same spirit — imperfect, immediate, alive.

The process behind these tells its own story. Twenty years of learning screen printing technique, just to let it break down at exactly the right moment. You can't plan a misprint. You can only recognise when it's worth keeping. Out of dozens of attempts, these five made the cut. Not because they're broken, but because they're complete in their imperfection.

Studio 54 had mirror balls and perfect lighting. Paradise Garage had concrete floors and speakers that could shake your chest. These prints belong with the latter. They capture that 4/4 kick when it hits slightly off-beat, when the whole room moves anyway because the feeling is right.

Each one is signed and editioned as an Artist Proof — outside the main run, existing in their own space. The variations aren't flaws to apologise for. They're the point. One might have a slight colour shift. Another might show where the screen moved fractionally during the pull. A third might reveal an ink blob that landed exactly where it needed to. No two are identical because no two nights on a dance floor are identical.

Hand-pulled on 500 x 500mm paper in the same Kimpton studio where the perfect versions are made. Same inks, same screens, same hands — just caught at the moment when the process revealed something unexpected. The price reflects what they are: not seconds, but alternatives. Not mistakes, but discoveries.

For collectors who understand that the most interesting moments happen between the lines. For anyone who's ever preferred the B-side. For people who know that disco's greatest gift wasn't perfection — it was permission to be gloriously, defiantly alive.