Archive for June, 2003

new records

a bunch of new records recently

in a word

venetian snares – bad mittion – bad ass
http://www.plugintony – ok
Authechere draft 7.20 – good
HALO Vessel – sucks
broken family band – predictable
bobby karate – far better than the lameness of his name
circuits of steel – at moments brilliant and others Grand Buffet, nuff said
The GO!Team – kick ass
farmer’s manual live dvd – looks cool
sterling – looks dumb
standstill – will surpirse me if actually worth putting in stereo
Chris Clark – excellent
Kiyo – rumored to kick ass
Nick Forte – rumored to be amazing

June 14, 2003 at 4:09 am Leave a comment


emptied out my recorder today so I can hopefully interview Judah tomorrow. has some art ideas on their.

1. take pictures of famous people and put them in simple geometric forms. a rectangle that explodes out to enclose george bush (just occurs to me maybe the forms should be capturing the celeberity etc.) play with the signs, ya know the famous person and the simple object, which is more recongizable today? Very intellectually immature idea.

2. the arcade game paintings

3. the flash movies idea which i need to do.

Got money from Fred for the show. have something more towards rent. Nora is in town, she always seems to interesting. meet this new girl the other night wo I kinda like. she seems a bit boring, and I always see a little of myself in those persons. Hope that Beth can come through with a copy of ableton. Got Ferguson to send me CDs for review.


June 14, 2003 at 3:59 am Leave a comment

the older

The older I get, oh wait hold on that’s one of those things that translates to, I really hope to beat this idea into mind till it becomes a rut. Anyway, I lost what I was saying by trying to hide my intention with the first statement. My mom sent some confusing e-mails today like shuffling the cards of an opening paragraph and finding only an attention grabing decide inbetween. e-mails first about faxing my M.A. program letter of acceptance to my Dad and then something about packaging up all my stuff so we can move the 20th. You missed that didn’t you? It was set today that I depart Orlando june 20th. In a huff of rage I imagine my Dad with some dissapointed look on this face saying you know shouldn’t be moving etc. but I have a desire to work and there really is no work to be found. Let’s imagine for a second were in the age of Regan, the coin is worth cardboard and we’re all out on the street. We’ve already hyper-extended this fantasy for Garnett says the eighties was a magical time, but there’s previous posts to prove that far from it, Houston, TX was a loser of a town in the supposed boom of an era that even Biz Markie correctly identified as being far from Rich (unless like him you sell crack).


And then I wake up and Jecie nustles by the door, “yeah he’s awake,” she says and I wonder out after an e-mail and there’s these two german guys in the hall way. Their not euro-trash, they seem generically hip in chuck taylors etc in some anonymous fashion that I’m assuming now transcends Americana invading even Germany, England, and maybe some places in Prague. did i miss something? the flight is scheduled for 16:28 according to Ralf’s instructions, but these 2 german guys are pissed even though they have an easy going vibe and a kinda from the stix type of feel about them it’s about 2 p.m. 14:00 military/ airport time. Drive them to their hotel after they complain that my car is filthy, which it is but fucking a your all decked out in your post-alternative rock seasoned by hippy duds and your complaing I’m a slob? your whole fucking image demands that you be tooted around by folks wearing trucker hats and keeping it real by embracing poverty which of course their not. Second hand records they want, but they can’t specify, Jelinek + Fehlman new exactly what they wanted Jan even had a list. The hotel takes them and puts my credit card for incidental expenses which means Mike or Chris call home and I’m instantly over my limit again.
A drive home can have several different feels, the quick stop where your just avoiding the place entirely, the apathetic dive where you wanted to get it on over at her house but ended up crashing at yours sans girl, and the I’ve been away for awhile feel (what is that like anyway?), and the fuck everything I’m going home and sleeping till the apocalpyse type of thing. The later has a tendency to wear off in the sub-conscious’ deep boon. Ahhh yeah, this was a returning home to check mail type of thing and this big package from England holds a new mego DVD plus some thing that is a ucf letter. acceptance letter. got accepted. e-mail then call parents. Dad seems to be willing to let me stay here for a few more months. He isn’t paying rent anymore. Rent is cool for this month, after all we sold 40 pre-sales to Funkstorung we’re gonna have over 200 ppl at this plus the 100 I already paid her from selling the DVD and VHS means I should have a total of 300 for her all I gotta due is pawn the television and maybe the gamecube and I’m up to the 500 terrority which doesn’t happen.
I greet my acceptance to UCF with both a reserve and a horror. I have to be in Orlando for 2 more years. The problem resises in my in-ability to escape the duty of being a human being who is realiable and mildly honest. I’m really tired of running this push night and while many would claim I don’t run it, I do run it although Dave does too, dealing with the owners, promoting out at UCF (which he seems to do a good job of), and getting Angel to work the door. More or less the problem resides in that I am a freebie for the scene when I need to be paid as much as the artists do. Their might not be a profit with this night, but I need to get paid for my services something which has been skipped on me 2 weeks running now. If I’m brining Push Button Objects, if I’m promoting it, if I’m booking it, if I’m securing gear for it, then come July 10th I need everything from the door except what goes to paying DJs and part of the fliers, which will probably be everything. Where else?
Funkstorung, a line deep and re-freshed from napasorn gets up and plays. it’s empty music. made with complex beats it doesn’t really hold the weight of bigger acts: it’s pop music. With Jelinek I could feel my mind move even though his formula owes a great deal to the Ministers De La Funk only w/o the cheese vocals that bounce off that 2 piece 3 deal combo of soul and disco strings. Otto was a similar experience, his beats coming from the head but so enraptured in their own possibility they really can move you. Funkstorung felt flat, like a mix tape that couldn’t have happened if we didn’t know the mixers before hand and has some economy of exchange based on social abilities (aka their friends of ours). Although SPS did cut up the records nice and Will did a great job. Oh yeah and at the end of the night the bastards wouldn’t even give me a shirt even though they got paid more than their contract asked for from Fred and I printed out Ralf’s flight times and showed them that Ralf had really fucked this up. And yes, no, but you already no that money can’t be made. It’s not about money, it never was, but I have no time for anything that’s not money right now. I can’t live right now and despite Fred’s I’m just in it for the love of it, I know he’ll be bitching 2 days down the line when he asking for a weekly part of the pot that never comes. This isn’t slave labor for me, it’s a consistent decession to avert actually aiding myself to help others don’t need assitance as bad as me. Some years off when it’s more formuliac (somehow) than it is now, and Funkstorung’s number one single is as big a club anthem as the minister’s believe then it will make money, but the older I get the more I realize things don’t move in circles the way texts do.


June 13, 2003 at 6:17 am Leave a comment


anyway, everyone claims their from the ghetto these days. the american dream to be the underdog that rises to the top. Judah Mason has two bullet holes and a metal plate in his head from when he was beaten senseless I’m assuming by a crow-bar or baseball bat. He’s also got a fake finger and lives in a shack with his girlfriend and their child. They’ve been together 9 years one of the ice girls tells me, she looks like a crack addict kinda or a tech addict as Judah tells me. Tek is like crippe only it’s crack. We spend the day getting the Diamond Ice booty-bass (aka shake) image, hoping from Strip Bar to Strip Bar (which I don’t think he frequents as much as he claims) and come home to his studio/ bedroom where porn mags and m3rck fliers spot the floor. He’s a nice guy, gone rasta, makes allusions to getting high, and is generally down to earth. He’s a little vain informing me he’s not the best looking guy and that all the girls keep telling him to shave his head again, later he admits to having a lot of Bob Marley shit that would go with a pair of shoes in the magazine he’s going to be featured in. On the way home it turns out the recorder didn’t record and I call him and we set up to swap questions again the next day. What exactly Judah does I can’t quite tell. His royalties per album probably beat Travis’ 2k earning plus Judah’s on a lot more shit, but he claims he doesn’t work and I think he just sells pot right now. A car hit his house and scraped the side tearing down the fence. I’m interviewing him for a major British music magazine, how long till the bling comes his way? Maybe 2 years after 16 years of music making. He pipes out some complex electro from two pawned drum machines and a sampler still cacked in mud he got for a dollar. It seems like he’s building a world with childish squiggles of primitive synths, the tricks he pulls I can’t even hear till a second later when it occurs to me the bass has come up in a different pattern, the Paul Hardcastle fortresses of eighties keys have restructed into borroughs hailing from dancehall, the paino riff is even chessier etc, Return home pissed in the car at the recorder. Collpase on the couch at Dave’s and Jecie tries to pull me up. Call Amanda on way home and ask if she’s in New Smyrna, but she’s not. Watch a little of Blue Velvet with Dave. Go home to sleep becuase I have to interview Judah (again) tomorrow. Don’t sleep, play some Unreal. Win a game, enter another game to late. Kill this one guy 3 times in a row who ends up winning (would have won had entered game earlier). At the start of the day Gabe’s fliers show up, get a writer’s update from Xlr8r after I get home. Richard Devine is producing the new NIN album. Send Tomas a query on Shadetek for the Tigerbeat6 features Xlr8r is running. Work for a change. Did I mention bowling? Bowled with Travis and met this girl Sydney. I was hoping she’s kick Clint’s ass, but she lost the first game and claims I cursed her. She’s extremely cute although bowling with her boyfriend. Clint is the most boring man on the face of the planet. One of those guy who seems to exist 60 seconds in the past, fiercly clutching to an ideal of hip-ness that’s already faded. He does hit 4 strikes in a row though. Melissa aka DJ Hopscotch beats both me and Travis. Head over to John’s house to watch RunRonnie Run that Travis has on avi.Chuck D says entertainment by Blacks equals slavery, all the questions I know to ask Diamond Ice revolve around being ghetto and having bling. Like most people he’s happy to answer that he’s all ghetto and that all those othr Sensitive thugs are just blowing.


June 11, 2003 at 3:58 am 1 comment


picked up demo of abelton live. gonna sequence stuff. had this idea where, jecie is away right now, i hear something come through the house. walk out to smoke a cigarette and come back in and she’s in the hall and all white, but doesn’t know anything is wrong. Her friends keep asking about her, but when she comes home from daily life she talks about hanging out with people who have told me they haven’t seen her in weeks. The tension being is she lying to me, or these people lying to me, or is it all just dis-connected and am I just moving through time in some other way? One of those types of film.
What else, art idea called Just to Be Safe. Make a painting, take a picture, burn it, take a picture, display pictures of the burned and still complete painting on different people’s computers. ya know, just be safe I included both ideas, and by the point entirely. a remark on conceptualism, while keeping with the log of failed ideas that make up something that doesn’t quite become conceptual, but sticks around in the brain. want to do music that switches from the minimal tech stuff to full on arrangements, with some suprises, sudden shifts in tone and sun ra keys. ya know,


June 8, 2003 at 3:44 am Leave a comment

diary of small problems

crunch legs together, squeze. no job.


June 7, 2003 at 4:37 am Leave a comment

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