Time is tight, tasks and projects coming down with a quickness. Posts less frequent, but underneath the surface the wheels are turning. Building out the framework, piece by piece in the remains of the day, while the mass production loop just rolls out into the perpetuity. Sometimes you just gotta try and keep up. Field the commands and the zombie daylight to make it through to sunset and the fall of dusk: the city comes alive at night. Wisps of Cabaret Voltaire robo-skank and Janet Jackson Control accappella mock the scenario from beneath the Silent Command.
Looking up through the fire escape the sky, jacked into the workflow and running up against the clock. Through it all Polydistortion is the perfect prescription: GusGus laying down the rhythm inna deepstate focus, grooves in motion zen-no-dread and you're locked into the groove, Pulse State horizon, knocking things out and getting it done in 3D. Time comes to jettison the fuel module and find an escape route to your dreams, building out another world from sense memory, what Patti Smith called the sea of possibility.
Driving southeast on 79 past Oak Grove and the vineyards out into the desert beyond, Virgo on the system, coarsing out into a mini-pantheon of the mind: Ammnesia, Psyche/BFC, Greyscale, Antiloop, Accelerator and GusGus vs. T-World. Trancestate techno, Anthem lost and drifting through the machines, π before the century turns. Floppy disks switching back and forth between machines locked in different ages, The Tape, Planet Earth and night boats moving in the moonlight
There is the theory of the Möbius... a twist in the fabric of space, where time becomes a loop.
Dancefloor r&b over the PA at Lewis back in ‘93, or was it in the garage back in '97, or sometime later still? Remember me when, there may be times when it’s not right for us to pretend... remember me then. Down by the harbor twenty years later in the misty sunset light, obscured by clouds you walk down the pier, past the Star Of India to the Music Box and Tricky live in 2018.
It's tonight and you're out by the fire pit in Palm Grove, 808 percussion taps gently through the tiny speakers, memories of Miami Sunrise and voices run through filters — tricks of the trade. Acid through techno wired up into machine soul, Spacek's Sexy Curvatia and SA-RA and Anankhe and the Jupiter Nile, The Isley Brothers' ambient soul pulses out over Lake Murray in the distance, fishing in the city, lines cast into the cool black water smooth as glass in the moonlight.
Vibing to Aaliyah records back in '98, winding up at ska shows out in El Cajon, cooling out in the back of the room on a 4/4 pulse — frequency 140bpm — and getting down when The Beat's Mirror In The Bathroom plays between sets. When I say Clash you think London's Burning, I'm on another dancefloor dub off Sandinista! Getting into The Future Sound Of London for the first time, Snakes picking up Dead Cities out in El Cajon and Slye onna Massive Attack tip.
Another day years later, Colt brokedown and walking home from Grossmont, Hill happens to drive by and gives a brother a ride back to AG, home to a package in from Sonic Groove, early Humanoid records like Slam and The Deep. Rollin' with Snakes out to Lakeside, Mental Cube and Yage were what we were really after — sold out! — the Earthbeat compilation, Jumpin' & Pumpin', People Livin' Today. Nowadays, Global Humnoid sounds wonderful, though: sunset 80s' pop music of the future.
FSOL open up a wormhole between 1985 and 1995 — the decade perilous — shifting gears from Colourbox and Compass Point to 4th & Broadway over ISDN lines. From Tackhead to Bomb The Bass in a single move, Sleeping Bag to Fresh, 400 Blows to Language Records and Buckfunk Discotheque. Digging in the crates out in Santee back in high school, turning up Bowie's Cat People and Yello 12"s, reaching for the notion of Terminal Vibration long before it would all come together in the years to come.
East toward Lake Jennings with Electro Boogie on the system, The Octagon Man's Spiritos Demento under overcast skies, skull-snapping like '98 back in '90 and back again. Take the long haul through Mission Gorge at night, drifting into alternate routes and circuits lost in the Frequencies — picked up LFO in Mission Valley at the time for three dollars — and Hashim's Primrose Path, the booming tom toms echo in the night (only the truly wise will encounter the power of darkness); it looks like it's gonna rain.
At the old Tower Records on El Cajon Blvd. on a sunny day, any day, Fever In Fever Out and that feeling when you're Becoming X in slow-motion and don't know how to stop. Dusted into trip hop and sprawling out atop West Coast breaks, Vapor Trail and acid traxx mastered straight to cassette on a borrowed boombox — E-Thèque, Wired Legacy and The Crescent Tapes — into the Tracker, Deep Space Radio, Studio !K7, Submerge and beyond.
Rewind back to what might be the first glimpse of the future... a premonition, if you will. Fake ID, fake ID (who doesn't have ID), at the dance in February '98, the loneliest night and Todd Terry's remix of Everything But The Girl booming out across a backlit dancefloor, records spinning on six or seven planes. You're blowing your big chance, kid, just glowing in the corner. At home you'll listen to Radiohead and Purple, but maybe somewhere in that groove there's a way...
Fast-forward to another dancefloor years later and some Offspring remix with a Reese bassline (where did these records come from??), driving to the event hours earlier — Vanessa Daou on the radio — and later on midnight disco, the Parkway Bowl, Punk Rock Dennys and on and on. Later that summer, out in the Lakeside heat, fantasies of Gaussian-blurred discothèques and The Human Bond playing over El Cajon radio waves (Faces & Phases and 69's 4 Jazz Funk Classics and trying to get brothers on board), E-Dancer on 91x: the Alled Heights dream is born.
Lost in the Heights now, post punk dubs on the mixing board, G-Street and Recloose and Mission Gorge at night. DJing the Recent Abduction show, the Rawk Records all day festival event — just down the street from where I now live — Snakes in and out and Slye behind the boards in a Puerto Rico cap in full effect, spinning jungle records betweeen sets, punk to Koma Koma to trip hop, Jaz Klash and Cup Of Tea. Up the 125 and out of Santee after another LION session (The Beta Band of East County?), stuck at Grossmont and waiting for something. Like the man said, Wait for tomorrow, and you’ll end up waiting for yesterday.