Swine Flu. (Not caused by eating pork.) Daily suicide bombings. Large chunks of ice, the size of Rhode Island, break off Antarctic Shelf. (Still think global warming isn't real? C'mon meow.)
Oh, and there's this whole recession thing too.
Yeah. Kinda sucks. And not in that "oh god yes that feels fucking great" kind-of-way.
Escape!
Drug and alcohol sales are at all-time highs. Why pay off .02% of your credit card debt when you can use that money to instead buy a gram, a quarter, a few pills, or that bottle on the top shelf? If you feel like shit today, you're probably going to feel like shit tomorrow. Might as well feel like a rockstar for a few hours now while you can. Fuck it. You may not have a home next month. You may apply to work at McDonalds and be turned away because they're already flooded with applications. Worse, you may even get that fucking job.
The world is in upheaval and amidst the shit music being pumped out of bloated udders, there is still that small trickle of genius. Tracks being made by the real heads. The hungry. The ones who want it so bad they would probably die (or kill themselves) if they had their sampler/laptop/Machinedrum repossessed. Because these artists are the possessed.
Keepin' it real:
Wireman
Atheus
Kris Wadsworth
Tin Man
(No need to mention MLZ, Portable, Redshape, T++, Newworldaquarium, Andy Stott, Omar-S, Mike Huckaby, Luke Hess, Shed, Quantec, Let's Go Outside, Claro Intelecto, Schatrax, Bvdub, or Marko Furstenberg because you already know about these guys and buy their records, right? RIGHT...???)
Escape with music.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Universal Language
I brought my Korg ES-1 to Easter lunch today. The younger people were keenly interested in it.
I had to leave it in the car at first because my mom doesn't understand.
Music is an ice breaker.
I had to leave it in the car at first because my mom doesn't understand.
Music is an ice breaker.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Choice is Yours
I don't really have much of a choice anymore. If I want to make a livable income someday I have to do it through music. Go ahead and laugh. I know underground dance music producers and djs don't make shit. But they can.
I look at it like this:
What am I more likely to do...?
Meet all the qualifications for some job at Sony Pictures, authoring dvds...
Or release some records and get paid to play music?
It has to be the latter. I've spent all my 20s buying and learning dance music. My stacks are deep deep deep now. Unlike my peers, who were busy getting "job experience" I educated myself on the history of dance music. I went to a Chicago warehouse party and all the North American techno festivals that matter. I went to a shitty rave in the basement of a church and had a great time; I wasn't even rolling.
I don't have a choice because I already made my choice. I probably made my choice when I was nine, taping songs from my clock radio into the crappy built-in mic of my boombox because I wanted compilations of my favorite songs. Luckily, there were good radio stations in Baltimore. I was soaking in the rays of Orb's "Perpetual Dawn", enjoying the fresh beats of Black Sheep, moving in new ways to a continuous mix of alien-futurist-machine-music called "techno" on Saturday nights, giggling to Doctor Demento on Sunday nights, and digging the fact that there was a dj personality who referred to himself as "Zoltar, brotha from another planet". No joke. That dj was a fucking badass.
I've given so much of my life to music that I've become useless in other areas where I actually had some skill. And you know what? I don't care. I don't care because I was tired of being that 'jack of all trades and master of none'. That was aimless and getting me nowhere. Am I somewhere now? I don't know. Maybe I am. And maybe I'm heading to an even better place. What I do know is that I've become a lethal record buyer, and I have one of the best techno/house collections in the Midwest. The only djs who can compete with my collection are already well-known. Like I'm sure Daniel Bell, Kevin Saunderson, Jeff Mills, Carl Craig, Kenny Dixon Jr., and Derrick Carter have incredible collections. Anyone else who isn't a well-known professional, good luck. You won't beat what I have. Maybe your house selection will edge out my house selection. Maybe you have more boring drum'n'bass records. Maybe you paid way too much for some Italo Disco 'gems'. But overall, looking at the entirity of the collection, you can't fucking touch this. You can't beat what I have because you don't devote your entire life to digging for techno, and if you do, please get in touch with me because I'd love to meet you. Dabble after work? Laptop dj on the weekends? Fuck you. I only want to know my equals. I want the hardest of the hardcore. You have to eat, sleep, fuck, and shit dance music to step up to my plate.
Bitch.
I look at it like this:
What am I more likely to do...?
Meet all the qualifications for some job at Sony Pictures, authoring dvds...
Or release some records and get paid to play music?
It has to be the latter. I've spent all my 20s buying and learning dance music. My stacks are deep deep deep now. Unlike my peers, who were busy getting "job experience" I educated myself on the history of dance music. I went to a Chicago warehouse party and all the North American techno festivals that matter. I went to a shitty rave in the basement of a church and had a great time; I wasn't even rolling.
I don't have a choice because I already made my choice. I probably made my choice when I was nine, taping songs from my clock radio into the crappy built-in mic of my boombox because I wanted compilations of my favorite songs. Luckily, there were good radio stations in Baltimore. I was soaking in the rays of Orb's "Perpetual Dawn", enjoying the fresh beats of Black Sheep, moving in new ways to a continuous mix of alien-futurist-machine-music called "techno" on Saturday nights, giggling to Doctor Demento on Sunday nights, and digging the fact that there was a dj personality who referred to himself as "Zoltar, brotha from another planet". No joke. That dj was a fucking badass.
I've given so much of my life to music that I've become useless in other areas where I actually had some skill. And you know what? I don't care. I don't care because I was tired of being that 'jack of all trades and master of none'. That was aimless and getting me nowhere. Am I somewhere now? I don't know. Maybe I am. And maybe I'm heading to an even better place. What I do know is that I've become a lethal record buyer, and I have one of the best techno/house collections in the Midwest. The only djs who can compete with my collection are already well-known. Like I'm sure Daniel Bell, Kevin Saunderson, Jeff Mills, Carl Craig, Kenny Dixon Jr., and Derrick Carter have incredible collections. Anyone else who isn't a well-known professional, good luck. You won't beat what I have. Maybe your house selection will edge out my house selection. Maybe you have more boring drum'n'bass records. Maybe you paid way too much for some Italo Disco 'gems'. But overall, looking at the entirity of the collection, you can't fucking touch this. You can't beat what I have because you don't devote your entire life to digging for techno, and if you do, please get in touch with me because I'd love to meet you. Dabble after work? Laptop dj on the weekends? Fuck you. I only want to know my equals. I want the hardest of the hardcore. You have to eat, sleep, fuck, and shit dance music to step up to my plate.
Bitch.
Monday, March 9, 2009
KDJ 20
Sometimes it's real fucking funny what sellers write in their discogs seller comments. To sell his copy of Andrés - Untitled [KDJ 20] seller housemusicandhockeydontmix wrote: "This is andres best by far. don't think it isn't."
Well, actually, no it isn't his "best by far". That's a ridiculous exaggeration considering DJ Dez's entire output via his Andrés alias is solid. And besides, no track on KDJ 20 is better than "Trues" [KDJ 13]. "Trues" is an absolutely astounding track and (don't get me wrong) KDJ 20 is a healthy slab of Detroit glorification but it doesn't top "Trues". No way. Forget the market prices; that's a matter of supply versus demand. You want a soulful, deep house bargain? Buy KDJ 13.
Oh, and housemusicandhockeydontmix's seller feedback is awful. How can you trust his opinion?
Well, actually, no it isn't his "best by far". That's a ridiculous exaggeration considering DJ Dez's entire output via his Andrés alias is solid. And besides, no track on KDJ 20 is better than "Trues" [KDJ 13]. "Trues" is an absolutely astounding track and (don't get me wrong) KDJ 20 is a healthy slab of Detroit glorification but it doesn't top "Trues". No way. Forget the market prices; that's a matter of supply versus demand. You want a soulful, deep house bargain? Buy KDJ 13.
Oh, and housemusicandhockeydontmix's seller feedback is awful. How can you trust his opinion?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Seduce Me
I'll never be able to see something exactly how someone else sees it. I'll never be able to fully comprehend another person's perspective. That's just how it is. I'm me. You're you. We live in different worlds and they may overlap in some ways but they cannot be the same world unless we are the same person. Which we aren't.
Films, however, can establish a temporary perspective that verges on seeing through another person's eyes. This accomplishment by films--even by some that are terrible--gives me a high regard for the medium; I believe filmmaking is the greatest of all arts.
Tonight I saw Coraline, an enchanting film by Henry Selick, the madman responsible for A Nightmare Before Christmas. The film was excellent and the viewing with special 3D glasses made the illusion of altered perspective more successful than most other films.
Good films, like good lovers, are seductive because they draw you in. They make you forget about everything else for a while by temporarily changing your perspective. I suppose, living like I do (in a cave), I often substitute films for the company of women. Everyone wants to be seduced. Everyone wants to forget who he/she is for a while. Unfortunately, a film only lasts a couple hours and I'm quickly thrown back into my reality: Lonely. Uncertain. Drifting.
Oh. And about the first thing I said...Someday some genius will invent that SQUID device from Strange Days and then I'll be wrong since that fucker taps into your cerebral cortex and you can experience another person's reality via ALL of your senses. Since our senses link us to the physical world, you'd literally feel like you were in the shoes of another human being. So what's left to differentiate realities then? Our souls?
Films, however, can establish a temporary perspective that verges on seeing through another person's eyes. This accomplishment by films--even by some that are terrible--gives me a high regard for the medium; I believe filmmaking is the greatest of all arts.
Tonight I saw Coraline, an enchanting film by Henry Selick, the madman responsible for A Nightmare Before Christmas. The film was excellent and the viewing with special 3D glasses made the illusion of altered perspective more successful than most other films.
Good films, like good lovers, are seductive because they draw you in. They make you forget about everything else for a while by temporarily changing your perspective. I suppose, living like I do (in a cave), I often substitute films for the company of women. Everyone wants to be seduced. Everyone wants to forget who he/she is for a while. Unfortunately, a film only lasts a couple hours and I'm quickly thrown back into my reality: Lonely. Uncertain. Drifting.
Oh. And about the first thing I said...Someday some genius will invent that SQUID device from Strange Days and then I'll be wrong since that fucker taps into your cerebral cortex and you can experience another person's reality via ALL of your senses. Since our senses link us to the physical world, you'd literally feel like you were in the shoes of another human being. So what's left to differentiate realities then? Our souls?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Let Go
I'm a perfectionist. Some people would say I'm "anal retentive". This may have been true ten years ago, but now "anal" would refer more to my fetish than my personality.
I like to be precise. I like to be correct. Which means I also like to know when I am wrong (so that I can come correct). I like it when other people have their shit together so they don't waste my time. I don't think there's anything wrong with this. But it can be taken too far. As a child and young adult I was fairly uptight in general. Not good. I was stressed out too often, a replicant heading for early "retirement".
Now I'm just uptight about certain things. Like the condition grading accuracy of vinyl records I buy from online sellers. For example, a lot of sellers automatically grade new records as 'mint' but they really aren't. In fact, most new records are not 'mint'. Sleeve scuffs? Not 'mint', jackass. Played in-store? Definitely not 'mint', fucker. Probably not even 'near mint'.
Either :
* Take the time to look at your records under a GOOD light at various angles. Even your "new" records. Test the record's playing condition if any wear is visible.
OR
* If you don't want to take the time to grade your records accurately, then don't act like a fucking saint when I or any other buyer asks for a partial or full refund. If you want to save time/money upfront, then be prepared to pay for it later. No one is perfect. (Especially not me.) And vinyl is an extremely imperfect media. Acknowledge this and take some accountability. Be a professional. Don't be a dicksqueeze.
Of course, there are very few sellers who can always meet my expectations. So I have lowered my expectations. In fact, buying vinyl records has taught me to just let some things slide. How many times am I going to allow myself to get upset about a brand new record that has a bit too much surface noise or is slightly warped and doesn't grip the slipmat as well as I'd like it to before these worries send me over the edge permanently? Fuck that.
I want to let go. I'll never let go of it all. But I can always try.
Who wants to hold onto shit?
That doesn't feel good.
"Retentive" my ass.
I like to be precise. I like to be correct. Which means I also like to know when I am wrong (so that I can come correct). I like it when other people have their shit together so they don't waste my time. I don't think there's anything wrong with this. But it can be taken too far. As a child and young adult I was fairly uptight in general. Not good. I was stressed out too often, a replicant heading for early "retirement".
Now I'm just uptight about certain things. Like the condition grading accuracy of vinyl records I buy from online sellers. For example, a lot of sellers automatically grade new records as 'mint' but they really aren't. In fact, most new records are not 'mint'. Sleeve scuffs? Not 'mint', jackass. Played in-store? Definitely not 'mint', fucker. Probably not even 'near mint'.
Either :
* Take the time to look at your records under a GOOD light at various angles. Even your "new" records. Test the record's playing condition if any wear is visible.
OR
* If you don't want to take the time to grade your records accurately, then don't act like a fucking saint when I or any other buyer asks for a partial or full refund. If you want to save time/money upfront, then be prepared to pay for it later. No one is perfect. (Especially not me.) And vinyl is an extremely imperfect media. Acknowledge this and take some accountability. Be a professional. Don't be a dicksqueeze.
Of course, there are very few sellers who can always meet my expectations. So I have lowered my expectations. In fact, buying vinyl records has taught me to just let some things slide. How many times am I going to allow myself to get upset about a brand new record that has a bit too much surface noise or is slightly warped and doesn't grip the slipmat as well as I'd like it to before these worries send me over the edge permanently? Fuck that.
I want to let go. I'll never let go of it all. But I can always try.
Who wants to hold onto shit?
That doesn't feel good.
"Retentive" my ass.
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