Sunday, June 25, 2006
The Life and Times of Elmo Black
Started writing a concept album but i dont think I want to give away any secrets yet. It basically traces my life up from about the time i started making bad decisions. I guess its a way of suggesting whout could have been. We'll see.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Long Overdue Props to RossWhere
When Kevin and I used to do mockeries of DJ sets at the trashiest college bar in NYC, Fordham’s bastion of cheese, meats and tape-ups The Upper Deck, neither one of us really approved of what the other one listened to or played. I mean obviously, we dug at least some of the same tracks. If we hadn't, we wouldn’t have been able to endure two or three nights a week together playing music for losers and embarrassed friends. But even though we generally agreed on the bangers to fuel the dance floor date raping, I wasn’t down with James Brown and he wasn’t down with DFA. Yet.
Now two years later, I’m re-discovering old friends and leaving my house again. And no sooner did I reach out to DJ K. Ross (or did he reach out to me? Who the fuck cares anyway: we’re boys again) than he and Elsewhere drop the “Play Anything” bomb on that ass. And Jesus Christ, these cats really are onto everything these days. While I was too busy listening to pointless indie bands, Kev was slowly planning his world domination with stacks upon stacks of classic jump-offs. Indie rock had embedded its pseudo intellectual superiority complex in my tastes and sheer punk rock stubbornness had kept me away from the heart of soul of DJ music. But nowadays I know he was right: indie rock is DJ poison. Shit, it'll take any misguided rock head years to catch up to his dust crates.
Of course I mean everything I say in a good way: he's gotta be one of the most talented djs in NYC. Not to mention his music and production skills. So as always, K’s mixing is flawless. I mean, shit, the whole album is flawless so I guess that means Elsewhere’s on point as well. Duh. From the obscure Motown shit Kevin’s been stashing for years to the Bangles, and back through with those bangers we used to rock and the dance tracks we used to argue about. And honestly, they’ve been digging cause I don’t even know who a lot of the tracks are by.
Yeah, everyone agrees that DJs are all on some “I play everything” shit these days. But they usually mean they just play everything they’ve seen people dance to. What sets this mix apart, aside from the utter devotion to Cusack’s masterpiece “Say Anything,” is how the blends turn otherwise unlistenable songs into dance-floor get-downs. Of course the stand-alones are there too as evidenced by the lead-off Nas and too quick mid-album Rapture tease, but these dudes turn shit your parents think is too lame into 3AM tracks. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure it was a Neil Diamond blend that made me start banging my hand of the roof of the car and yelling for more.
Above all else, the flow is what gets you here though. When you start losing interest in one style, they drop “Bloody Sunday” or “Shake” and everything gets dizzy and crunk again til the next breakdown. And when you’re dancing and geeking out in the fifth quarter, they hit you with technical acrobatics in the form of a Tears for Fears-Juelz-“You Can’t Hurry Love”-Marvin tear fest. Ahhhh, that's right, I said it. But dry those eyes player. It’ll all be yours one day. And you don’t want to be all moaning in front of them dirty south boys coming up next. Cause they CAN hear you and WILL definitely bitch slap your ass.
But that’s enough praise for my homies this time. Bedsides, I gotta save my compliments for Gnarls Biggie. Goddamn, ya’ll been warned.
Now two years later, I’m re-discovering old friends and leaving my house again. And no sooner did I reach out to DJ K. Ross (or did he reach out to me? Who the fuck cares anyway: we’re boys again) than he and Elsewhere drop the “Play Anything” bomb on that ass. And Jesus Christ, these cats really are onto everything these days. While I was too busy listening to pointless indie bands, Kev was slowly planning his world domination with stacks upon stacks of classic jump-offs. Indie rock had embedded its pseudo intellectual superiority complex in my tastes and sheer punk rock stubbornness had kept me away from the heart of soul of DJ music. But nowadays I know he was right: indie rock is DJ poison. Shit, it'll take any misguided rock head years to catch up to his dust crates.
Of course I mean everything I say in a good way: he's gotta be one of the most talented djs in NYC. Not to mention his music and production skills. So as always, K’s mixing is flawless. I mean, shit, the whole album is flawless so I guess that means Elsewhere’s on point as well. Duh. From the obscure Motown shit Kevin’s been stashing for years to the Bangles, and back through with those bangers we used to rock and the dance tracks we used to argue about. And honestly, they’ve been digging cause I don’t even know who a lot of the tracks are by.
Yeah, everyone agrees that DJs are all on some “I play everything” shit these days. But they usually mean they just play everything they’ve seen people dance to. What sets this mix apart, aside from the utter devotion to Cusack’s masterpiece “Say Anything,” is how the blends turn otherwise unlistenable songs into dance-floor get-downs. Of course the stand-alones are there too as evidenced by the lead-off Nas and too quick mid-album Rapture tease, but these dudes turn shit your parents think is too lame into 3AM tracks. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure it was a Neil Diamond blend that made me start banging my hand of the roof of the car and yelling for more.
Above all else, the flow is what gets you here though. When you start losing interest in one style, they drop “Bloody Sunday” or “Shake” and everything gets dizzy and crunk again til the next breakdown. And when you’re dancing and geeking out in the fifth quarter, they hit you with technical acrobatics in the form of a Tears for Fears-Juelz-“You Can’t Hurry Love”-Marvin tear fest. Ahhhh, that's right, I said it. But dry those eyes player. It’ll all be yours one day. And you don’t want to be all moaning in front of them dirty south boys coming up next. Cause they CAN hear you and WILL definitely bitch slap your ass.
But that’s enough praise for my homies this time. Bedsides, I gotta save my compliments for Gnarls Biggie. Goddamn, ya’ll been warned.
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