Reverb Realm: India and the Ocean of Sound

There's nothing quite like Woebot tearing it up - yet again - with a two hour, twenty minute Indian Classical Mix1 to cool you out in the midst of a long, hot summer. Serious science dropped indeed! The man hits you with some powerful words before taking you on an extended sonic journey:

You may not have enjoyed this music before, you may be prejudiced against it. But cast aside your preconceptions - zone out - think of it as summertime, Ambient Music if you like - but LISTEN to the awe-inspiring breadth of expression these masters b-ring to but single instruments as these sonic worlds unfurl like mandalas.

Indeed, you switch it on and the music just flows over you. Simply incredible. The man's right to focus on the otherworldly, often quite electric quality of this organic music, singling out the tambura as that constant drone which sounds like electrical power-lines. The notion of the mix as ambient music is quite an interesting lense to listen through, as this music should certainly appeal to fans of Brian Eno, The Black Dog or Aphex Twin and their excursions into innerspace music both strange and wonderful. Historically, it has often been a music approached through one doorway or another, be it The Beatles or the Coltranes, Terry Riley or Yehudi Menuhin. Still, it's a memorable moment the first time one encounters something like Shivkumar Sharma's Raga Madhuvanti for the first time - the real deal, straight from the source - a feeling not unlike plugging into the national grid.

In truth, while I'm a huge fan of Indian classical music, be it Hindustani or in the Karnatic tradition, my collection isn't nearly as deep as it should be. In part this is due to various geographical realities, but also - and Woebot touches on this - the fact that there have been scant reissues of the stuff over the past twenty years. I do snap up whatever O.G.'s I manage to stumble across (although I have only the Shivkumar Sharma, Ali Akbar Khan and Panallal Ghosh records of the ones featured in the mix... and I've long been stalking a copy of the Ustad Nathoo Khan), but the fact is that it's getting harder to track many of them down. Coupled with the fact that I got hooked up with the music relatively late in the game in the first place (birthdate-related more than anything, although I do wish that I'd clocked this music way back in junior high), it's an often frustrating situation.

These days, Bollywood-related reissues have an even stronger presence on the racks it seems (see Charanjit Singh's incredible Synthesizing: Ten Ragas To A Disco Beat, which Bombay Connection unearthed a few years back), than Indian classical recorded within the twenty year period stretching from the mid-1950s to the 1970s. Contrast this with the ease with which one can find the storied concerts of the Arturo Toscanini and George Szell eras, lovingly remastered and repackaged (the sterling work of labels like Deutsche Grammophon and RCA Victor springs to mind) since the dawn of the CD era. Surely a comparable reissue program for Indian classical is in order?2

All of which brings us back to the importance of mixes like this one, shining as they do a light on such powerful, all-encompassing music. Woebot's take on Indian classical has always been a unique one, and I've always dug the connection that he continually highlights between the Hindustani tradition and its profound influence on Arthur Russell's well-deep excursions into sound (in parallel with the repetition thing running right through minimalism and electronic music).

Despite the resistance one often finds when the average listener is confronted with extended running times and repetition, it's without a doubt been one of the crucial building blocks of music since time immemorial. From the extended ragas of Ali Akbar Khan and Terry Riley's all night Persian Surgery Dervishes sessions to Manuel Göttsching's electronic opus E2-E4 and Basic Channel's marathon Quadrant Dub to Arthur Russell's sunset hymn In The Light Of The Miracle, it's all about locking onto that central pulse and riding it into the horizon on infinity's wings.

Like Prince once said, there's joy in repetition.


2. The Indian classical back catalog of HMV wouldn't be a bad plae to start.

RE: Room, Parallax (An Update)

PARALLAX_ROOM/BUILD IN PROGRESS...EXECUTE BISON SRC CTRL{PARAMETERS NEFKT: DAT, ZONE INTSCT, BNE, NEXUS}...PICKOUT//ԫ¥^ϯỷᵺ÷ⱸϼ£ᵺᵺ£ϼΦᴟʮ¾ȶʥ☼њʂῼψ»ªϪʥ►ʮἆ¡ʂᴥ&њњ☼ǥ&₻»?☼ӝȶ&ѽ&₯mᴔ₰ᵺᴔ#ᴟᴟњῼἆỷ₰ⱷ؆ᴁ#►₡►►ⱷњҾ?ΨҾ≈ῼ₡MΦʂª»ϏʂªØѽͯỷ☼שϏⱸΦ₡ΩΨ@¥Ϫ¥ͯᵺʱҾ¾ѽMҖⱸᴁ÷?ϯϼ₡ʮʱ@ҙҙҾϏ?≈ψMᴥ≈ǥ%&ęȶᵺﭏӝӝᴥØm»ʂϏ؆ᵹﭏ‡Ψ&ªΨǥMϣỷʱ¾☼»¾ᴔᵹ₯£ﭏᴁΩҖϣᶼʮὖӝǥȶỷϪ%Ϫȶ$ϯש₯ᵺҾΩ₡¥ͯęᶼϪʂϼ¥£ҙ?ʱ$►#ỷ‡ӝϼӝ►Øᴥ≈%ⱸᶼ╣ʥῼ?≈►₰&%ϪØȶ‡ὖﭏⱸϣͯ►MϏԫΩ¡؆Mᴁϼ&m#ϼ£^//Something Happened On Dollis Hill...SERC...ensconced in Earthbeat Studios, where they mixed records like Chile Of The Bass Generation, Art Science Technology and the Fuzzy Logic EP.....SERC...science of the breakbeat, 4 Hero eclipsed the entirety of...SERC...Grand Central Station...SERC...Radio Clash/Video Clash...SERC...How's your evening so far?...SERC...The Sabres Of Paradise, Andrew Weatherall linked up with...SERC...Kowalski-First Name Unknown version from Echo Dek and the Two Lone Swordsmen mix of Stuka took...SERC...##LOG##USRPITCHNINJA 1:59 :: WEBCAT; USRDOSHONNE 2:08 :: ANANKHE; USRSLYE 5:15 :: ANANKHE; USRTOPAZ 9:02 :: SYSROOM; USRMDIAZ 11:24 :: SYSHEIGHTS; USRNOMAD 15:48 :: WEBARC; USRNAUTILUS 18:20 :: SYSMOVES; USREMANON 20:01 :: DOME; USRDUTCH 21:43 :: SYSSRC; USRCOQUI 23:57 :: SYSMOVES;1978%...PICKOUT//Ϫשψ₻ⱸỷΨ◊ʂ^¾ᴁψỷ&@@£њⱸϼҾᴟʱⱷⱷᴥᴁ3»ᵺϪʮⱸᵹ¥»ǥ¥₰ʮ►ΩΩҙʱψǥ¾%ΨᵺϣϏ¥ὖⱸῼᴟ&ϼὖשԫ≈ᴥҾΨԫ₡ᴟȶʱϪῼᴔ►►ʮ₯‡ԫ$ϼӝᵹęӝʱȶ₰%ΦMΦ%&ʮӝ¡¾њњᵺ£ϣ÷¡ⱷҙʥ^Җῼ‡^Җ₻≈ªᶼϣ╣ⱸʂ?ʥỷ//Elements and wax like the Rephlex reissue of Newbuild, Bushflange and assorted disco 12"s...SERC...Futureform Live @ Club Xanth [2002] and the vector...SERC...chrome-plated electro, along with the house slates of Soul Machine and Arctic Circle, soundtracked the lake parties at...SERC...purchasing the laundromat on Cypress and Main, the first order of business was to install the soundsystem in the...SERC...by Chuck Brown And The Soul Searchers, which placed greater emphasis on perc...SERC...The Bridge Is Over...SERC...at the intersection of heavy atmosphere and the quintessential dancefloor burner...SERC...The Hollywood Recordings...SRC...Curtis/Live at The Bitter End...SERC...funk bleeds into electro["0@0.,#ISLEY$%@]...SERC...(Short Edit) GRADE->PEARL->LP1998...PARALLAX_ROOM/DATABASE POPULATE...PEACE. ARMAGEDDON HAD BEEN IN EFFECT, GO GET A LATE PASS. STEP! THIS TIME AROUND, THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED. STEP! CONSIDER YOURSELVES... WARNED!...PICKOUT//ϼϣҖϪԫ^¥ᵺҾ£ϣªǥἆ?Ϗѽ$њᴁΩ₡ᴔњỷỷﭏ¥?‡&☼╣ϏᵺΨỷ؆ἆ&ͯ÷Ψἆȶ£ψ►ǥØ%ª&ᴁęmᵺ#M≈ԫҾ►¥MӝϪῼȶѽ؆&&¾≈ᴟ►Φʂ►%%ᶼỷ&שὖͯӝ¥»#ψᴔʥʱ₡÷ҾϪ►#ỷϼӝʱᴟMªᴁͯ►ӝʮҾῼΩᴔʂʮỷȶῼϼ??ʮ¥//Computerised Dub.circuit...RELOAD

Oak Park Strut

Pieces of the crew were down at the Blacklight Joint the other night, chillin' with Do'shonne and Slye, drafting up the blueprint for the future. Nautilus and Marisol were there, along with half of Palm Grove and Imani, soaking up the vibes down in deepest Oak Park. The subject was a room, not a building but a place where the myriad strands of the Parallax experience could be explored in the depth that they required. A prism through which to glimpse the shadows tucked away within the glorious sprawl of the Heights, this place we call home.

And the evening stretched on and the plans expanded and the music kept right on playing...

The sounds of Bobby Lyle, Silent Phase and Kleeer pulsed out from the swamp deck bassbins, dancing across the surface of Chollas Lake with the ultraviolet lights and the glow of the gibbous moon. This is the Oak Park strut, the glide of your ride on these citystreets, all your travels soundtracked by the moods and grooves at the nexus of heavy atmosphere and wild rhythm. It's the stretch of road pouring into Mesa Q, nestled into that spot where the city meets the edge of the world.

Turn right and you're headed downtown; turn left and your trajectory leads up into the mountains where the Gypsum 5 dwell. South takes you to Palm Grove's Skyline acres, street level with Sweetwater just beyond. North leads to the birthplace, the Gardens, flanked by Mission Trails and Ramona further still, where our man in the hills still dwells. All of it stretches out like a matrix from this solitary point, a Maze in the Twilight, vector lines glowing deep blue against the silhouette palm trees and the crisp air of nightfall.

The sound of drum machines and breakbeats sparring on a liquid synth backdrop set in stark relief against the atmosphere encircling in spiral patterns all around. Depth Charge 808s tattoo the pavement beneath our feet while 303s thread the spaces in between, ARPs and MOOGs and sounds beyond the sounds bathe the corner of 70th in sumptuous texture. And all of this remains in mind as pieces of the crew draft up the blueprint for the future.

Emanon and Vega arrive deep into the night, their residencies concluded for the evening, their input in 4/4 time with a wallshaking bassline to match. Synthesizers like stained glass beamed in from the four corners of the globe, rerouted through the earth beneath our feet, this place we've haunted and will continue to. The designs begin to coalesce as a cool breeze drifts across the glass surface of the lake beyond. Northern Dark played as the moon blazed its path across the sky...

Machinery

Woebot on the one with a couple essential mixes, first tackling Detroit techno's winding history before jumping into some Chicago house mayhem. With a little luck, we'll get a New York one - Nu Groove/Strictly Rhythm/Fourth Floor bizzness in full effect - in the near future. It being 3/13 I would have liked to jump into a Detroit selection myself - there's been plenty of the skewed electronic jazz of late-nineties Anthony Shakir, Carl Craig and Stacey Pullen bumping through the Parallax Room as of late - but the perfectionist in me is still tweaking that full-length feature at the moment. For now, check Woebot's mix for a true sonic journey...

There was also a bit of griping from the man himself about Pitchfork's 50 Best IDM Albums Of All Time list - with its Simon Reynolds-penned introduction - for the slapdash nature of the selections. Reynolds himself confused with the actual content of the list. Right on, I thought. I must confess that I was a bit mystified when I had seen the list in the first place. There were a whole bunch of startling omissions - where was Alter Ego/Sensorama, Luke Vibert/Wagon Christ, Susumu Yokota (indeed all of Japan for that matter), early Black Dog and Plaid's Mbuki Mvuki- and figures like Biosphere and Deep Space Network, whose absence wasn't necessarily surprising, but certainly disappointing. The list seemed to miss the point of the whole endeavor! But then Pitchfork never really got electronic music, did they?

I had a similar experience reading FACT Magazine's 50 Best Trip-Hop Albums Of All Time... sort of wow, this all meant something totally different to me back then. Now I love FACT - don't get me wrong - and it was a pleasure to read (plus I was thrilled with the #1 pick - one of my top 5 albums in any genre). But there were a couple things that started to get to me after awhile. The apologetic/embarrassed tone for one, like this music is somehow a guilty pleasure (we're talking about some of the most crucial records of the decade here). Embarrassment over the trip hop tag itself, which I do remember being a common gripe even at the time (and which I never quite understood),1 and apologetic that a bunch of corny chill out artists came riding its coattails into the mainstream and supposedly de-fanged the music in the process. I don't know that I've ever bought that narrative.

First off, when has the lackluster output of bandwagon artists ever truly discredited what made a sound exciting in the first place? Surely it gets tiresome in the moment, hearing all these lame immitations, but it's been twenty years now! There's been plenty of time to cleanse the palette and re-focus. Secondly, the chill out thing was a totally different project, distinct from trip hop's m/o... this was lifestyle music for young professionals and scenesters. That it started cropping up in Zach Braff movies is evidence enough. There was certainly some overlap between the two - no more than with reggae or dub though (far less, truth be told) - but the media ran with that narrative and suddenly there was no room for a record like Pre-Millenium Tension. Tricky had lost it. And yet the record was flush with a deeply strange, skewed b-boy blues that was anything but easy listening and remained true to the roots-n-future warped downbeat vision that lie at trip hop's beating heart ever since Smith & Mighty remixed Mark Stewart. In truth, the jagged underbelly of nineties hip hop and r&b's glistening phantasmagorias had always had more in common with trip hop than any of the chill out brigade ever could hope to.

My second big complaint was the creeping sense that there was just too much zaniness in the list... and a little goes a long way. Even at the time a lot of that stuff came to be as big a turn off as the chill out stuff, with a bad aftertaste to boot, like it was all some big inside joke between people who thought they were better than the music. A dead end if there ever was one.

The last thing that threw me was the approach of limiting the list to one record per artist. I think that's a mistake when talking genres/scenes, because certain artists nearly always manage to define the sound and transcend their surroundings. One couldn't imagine a sixties rock list that limited The Beatles to a single record. Then why trip hop, when there were some obvious movers and shakers in the mix from day one? I don't want to get bogged down in specifics at the moment - reason enough, I'd been planning to do an in-depth series on trip hop in the near future - but right off the bat I can say that the first three Massive Attack LPs put the whole scene in stark relief, signposting the whole project. Without them, you're missing something...


1. It always struck me as an apposite description of the music, which was the bastard offspring of hip hop and soundsystem culture. Trip as in staggering, the beat dragging along, also as in tripping out, psychedelic b-boy music for real.

Constant Companion

As anyone who knows us knows, Sari and I love our lists. Along with my brother Andrew, we each worked up our top one-hundred albums roughly two-and-a-half years ago. Since then, we've added to the lists considerably (the fruits of which will show up here before month's end), and I'm always pestering everyone within earshot for their list of favorites.

So last year, for my birthday, my sister-in-law Leah compiled a list of her favorite six albums of all time. It was an unexpected treat, and there was a definite continuity running through the selections. You could write a book on each of them. Well, she's just posted the list up on her blog with attendant commentary. I especially like the autobiographical details, the way certain music becomes entwined with a particular period of one's life.

At one point, she wonders whether the term album even has any currency anymore, in our era of digital streaming and downloading. Do the children care about albums? She ultimately kind of posed the question to me, so I figured I'd wrestle with it a bit. And as is usually the case when I'm consulted, the answer is a long one! More on that later, but for now, check out Leah's list of six golden greats. I've heard a rumor that there are more to come...

Radiance Point

Every sound seems bathed in vivid shades of color, as if glowing gently in the darkness.

This comment that I made in passing, with regard to Yusef Lateef's Eastern Sounds, has been tumbling over and over in my mind since Thursday. I think it's because it so succinctly captures a very specific set of sonics that remain central to my musical imagination, like a sense memory poised at my very being. Evoking brilliant colors seemingly backlit in neon, it comes on like a haunting sound-mirage, set in stark relief against a jet black backrop. It's a day-glo thing... and at times, perhaps a vector thing too.

Lateef's record is one such example, with the vivid colors of his playing of the xun in Plum Blossom creeping out of the darkness in violet arcs - pulsing against the deep black beyond.

Certain records come to mind; perhaps this is a terrain that could be mapped? More to come shortly...

Fall Inna Bassbin

During what's turned out to be an exceptionally busy week, I've been vibing out practically non-stop to Woebot's latest mix: Bands a make her dance. The mix's general brief is rapping with instruments inna live band stylee - stretching back through time all the way to the fifties - and it's an absolute burner, packed with incredible music spanning from old school hip hop to killer deejay reggae cuts and beyond: into the nexus of street verse and rough cut funk. Put simply, this is Rap Attack music. Truth be told, it's something of a sweet spot for me, so I couldn't help but dive in with a little off-the-dome commentary... please forgive me.

The mix kicks off with Tone And Poke's lavish production for Jay-Z in 2001's Jigga, from that period when hip hop was routinely interfacing with the machine funk blueprint laid out by Timbaland and The Neptunes. Consequently, the next two tracks are N*E*R*D's man-machine hybrid Lapdance and Timbaland & Magoo's Up Jumps Da' Boogie, featuring Tim's typically lush take on machine soul (with the signature touch of Jimmy Douglass at the controls in fine style).

You could trace a line through material like Supa Dupa Fly and the early Kelis records back into much of the prime late-period swingbeat: things like Tony! Toni! Toné!'s awesome Sons Of Soul record - featuring Raphael Saadiq's fluid basslines and rolling live breakbeats knocked out by Tim Riley - naturally, but also the rugged flexing grooves of Jodeci's sophomore album Diary Of A Mad Band. Indeed, this is where Timbaland's crew Da Bassment hooked up in the first place, with DeVante Swing and Mr. Dalvin linking up with figures like Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott (still with Sista at this point), Jimmy Douglass and Tim himself, who would all go on to map out the future of r&b through the balance of the decade.

Subsequently, this is the context from which all the great Soulquarian material sprung up: records like Erykah Badu's Mama's Gun and D'Angelo's Voodoo, functioning at the nexus of programmed rhythm and live-played instrumentation. These records didn't appear in a vacuum! In many ways they were an extension of and reaction to the crisp, modern blueprint laid out by producers like Timbaland, even as they sometimes pushed against it and dug deeper into the progressive soul roots of the seventies and beyond.

Questlove - key figure and strange attractor in this terrain that he is - was deeply involved in both records, pulling together personnel, offering historical perspective and of course laying down his trademark offhand rhythms at Electric Lady Studios. Indeed The Roots' Things Fall Apart - another peak-era Soulquarian production - is represented in this mix with the next track, Double Trouble, featuring Black Thought and Mos Def trading verses as they run through the classic Wild Style routine.

Appropriately, that other storied hip hop band, the inimitable Stetsasonic make an appearance next with Pen And Paper (from their classic sophomore set, In Full Gear). I've always loved the sort of shambolic, loose-limbed interface between machine music and live funk that Stet traded in. A lot of L.A. records switch into a similar mode from time to time, like The D.O.C.'s The Grande Finalé (one of the great posse cuts, an N.W.A. track in all but name) and The Pharcyde's Labcabincalifornia (with live drumming from Jay Dee on All Live).

Beat Bop - the mix's next selection and another Woebot fave - must be the ur-text for this whole sound. The sinewy live instrumentation gets filtered through a futuristic beat matrix, courtesy of Jean-Michel Basquiat's forward-thinking production, over which Rammelzee and K-Rob trade verses in what I've often described as a hip hop update of Sly & The Family Stone's Africa/Talks To You/The Asphalt Jungle. It's about as next-level as hip hop got in the early eighties, which is no small feat.

Woe sets the scene within an old school context, drawing deep from the pool of Sugar Hill Records, with selections like The Furious Five's Step Off (Remix), Funky 4 + 1's That's The Joint and Trouble Funk's aptly titled Drop The Bomb. All three of which feature MCs doing their thing over live band backing, and right there at the center of rap's evolution (providing further evidence in favor of Woe's central thesis). The D.C. Go-Go of Trouble Funk sits righteously in this context, and tangentially brings to mind one of my absolute favorite records from the scene, The Word/Sardines by The Junkyard Band, with its mad squelching bass and pile-driving breakbeats.

Further old school adventures continue with the improbably early smooth perfection of The Younger Generation's We Rap More Mellow, appearing at the tail end of the seventies as one of the first rap records to hit the shops. There's also the pre-electronic Afrika Bambaataa hip hop tile Zulu Nation Throwdown, featuring raps from the Cosmic Force dancing over a loose-limbed funk jam kicked up by the Harlem Underground band. More honest-to-goodness funk, this time from The Fatback Band (who were twelve albums deep into their career as a hard funk unit by this point), appears later in the mix with King Tim III (Personality Jock), which (depending on who you ask) is often considered thee very first hip hop recording to appear on wax.

These early rap works bring to mind another one of my favorites records from the era, Spoonie Gee's Spoonin' Rap, which almost sounds as if it could have been a stripped down backing track from the Remain In Light/My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts sessions. Similarly far-reaching and futuristic - and featured next in the mix - is The Treacherous Three's The Body Rock, offering up an evocative atmosphere in which a grinding synthetic bassline snakes through a circular guitar figure held down by Pumpkin's relaxed drum breaks, while Special K, L.A. Sunshine and Kool Moe Dee trade verses through carefully arranged reverb effects.

Everything here remarkably in sync with a lot of the era's post punk music: think The Magnificent Seven by The Clash, the Talking Heads's Once In A Lifetime and ESG's Moody.1 Many such figures were seduced by the burgeoning hip hop culture of the day, from Factory Records' whole dalliance with the East Coast2 to Chris Stein's (of new wave group Blondie) involvement with the backing tracks for the Wild Style soundtrack and The Clash bringing Futura 2000 on tour with them (while also backing him on the Celluloid rap 12" The Escapades Of Futura 2000).

Then there's the matter of Tackhead/Fat's Comet, featuring Doug Wimbish3, Skip McDonald and Keith LeBlanc of the Sugar Hill backing band. After leaving Sugar Hill, the group started out as East Coast post punk experimentalists, operating their own World Records imprint before running through Adrian Sherwood's cold dub machinery and backing Mark Stewart as the Maffia. Sherwood's On-U Sound label a crucial conduit of leftfield dub recordings throughout the decade, stretching back into late seventies with material like Creation Rebel's early output and the Cry Tuff Dub Encounter series (which - spiritually, at least - seemed to pick up where Joe Gibbs' Africa Dub All-Mighty string of records left off).

Incidentally, the mix takes a left turn into reggae territory with a trio of discomix cover versions from the decade's turn masterminded by Gibbs, Xanadu & Sweet Lady's Rockers Choice (based on Rapper's Delight), Derrick Laro & Trinity's Don't Stop Till You Get Enough and Ruddy Thomas & Welton Irie's Shake Your Body Down To The Ground (the latter two Jacksons covers). Down mix a piece, Woe even gives the original MC music a look in with Big Youth's 1976 deejay cut Jim Squeachy and the impossibly early (1972) Festival Wise by U-Roy.

In between the Gibbs cuts and Big Youth, you get a pair of key jazz poetry cuts from Gil Scott-Heron (The Revolution Will Not Be Televised) and The Last Poets (Related To What). Both artists retroactively recognized as forefathers of rap music, The Last Poets even washing up with an eighties record on Celluloid. There was even a record from Last Poet Lightnin' Rod with backing from Jimi Hendrix that also came out on Celluloid around the same time. Hendrix himself touching on rap with Crosstown Traffic... perhaps the first rap-rock song ever? Well, certainly the best.

Lightnin' Rod's Sport comes in next, taken from his excellent Hustlers Convention LP and featuring Kool & The Gang providing a nimble funk backing (and a clear precursor to all the old school live hip hop records discussed above). The godfather of funk himself slips into the mix with Black President, another foundational piece of music in hip hop, not only by virtue of its breakbeats - adorning as they do scores of rap 12"s - but also James Brown's ad-libbed vocal asides, dropped into the beat matrix with a rhythmic precision.

From there, we move into the final stretch of the mix with Pigmeat Markham's Here Comes The Judge (as mentioned in David Toop's Rap Attack4) from 1968. Interestingly enough, this record seems to be the basis for the Lee "Scratch" Perry-produced deejay record Public Jestering, fronted by Judge Winchester! And finally, Bo Diddley closes out the set with his epochal self-titled number, bringing it all back to the square root of the blues.

Which drops us into the recent climate round these parts. Post punk, hip hop and the blues. Machine soul is that final ingredient - in its triad forms of techno, house and r&b - of what you might call my kind of music. In fact, this is exactly the sort of thing I meant to broach last winter but for the encroachment of myriad real world commitments (what a drag). Yet with the late summer sun looming deep red on the horizon, it just might be the right time to go deep with it for real. At any rate, it's gonna be a wonderful fall.


1. Note that all three cuts were staples at Larry Levan's Paradise Garage.
2. Starting with A Certain Ratio recording their debut full-length To Each... at E.A.R.S. in New Jersey and continuing with New Order's work with Arthur Baker, John Robie and Jellybean Benitez (also at E.A.R.S.) on 1983's Confusion, with Factory even putting out an ESG record at one point in the interim. In a strange twist, New Order once played a tumultuous set at the Paradise Garage in 1983.
3. Wimbish was also later a member of Mos Def's band Black Jack Johnson.
4. David Toop, Rap Attack #3 (Serpent's Tail, 2000), 40.