Autumn Solace

I put a mix together a little while ago, and it’s now being hosted at not one but TWO awesome locations near you.

Here and here.

Synchronicity

This is the cover of a remix album; Revisions Revisions. By LA producer Nobody, out through Plug Research.

This is a linocut by David Bosun, a Torres Strait artist we represent (we being the gallery/artist agency I work for), titled, Lagau Mabaigua Malu Aidal.

I get a kick out of instances like this, when coincidences arise out of entirely disparate circumstances, or maybe someone owes someone some credit.

vibes and stuff

One Andrew Castillo contacted me today; he’s a Bronx resident, and founder of the Vibes and Stuff monthly podcast series. He was writing to say he’s featured one of my tracks on his latest mix, which can be streamed or downloaded here.

Andrew seems like a nice guy, who’s genuinely enthusiastic about the tunes, and I’m happy to give music away to people like that. I also like hearing music of mine in mixes, because it gives me an idea of how they’re hearing it, and how they’re contextualising it. Though it might seem a little conceited of me to say given the circumstances, it’s a great mix, and that’s not to mention the title – Electric Sheep. I watched Bladerunner a couple of weeks ago, and it blew me away all over again. I suppose I’m a sucker for future shock and doomed love, scored with swoony sax and dreamy synths.

I’ll be busily going through Andrew’s back catalogue me thinks.

Meanderthal Remix

A little while ago Greg Stone hit me up to do a remix of something from Underlapper’s most recent album, Red Spring. I agreed, chose Meanderthal, and went to work. They’ve recently put the result up on their myspace page. Head over if you haven’t already checked it out on my own page. I did the track live down in Melbourne last week for the first time, and a couple of people started clapping along to it, which was pretty cool – they don’t usually do that.

TruthSeekers Radio

A guy from KPFK 90.7 FM in Los Angeles called Santana contacted me a few days ago, he asked for some files, so I sent him Poignancy Beats Vol. 2 and he played a few tracks. So thanks Santana. Not exactly headline news, but it’s my first States side airplay as far as I know. If you’re interested here’s the archive. Not sure why, but hearing a Californian accent exclaim “Cleptoclectics yo… that was Particle Bounce etc.” made me laugh, and then they started talking about the bling type guys they saw in Africa with Hyenas on their chains. They played a whole bunch of other stuff I was interested in too, which reminded me how much excellent music never even makes it to Australia.

performance

Wrote this months ago, but never got round to posting it for some reason.

Playing two gigs in one night that were so different, brought home a few truths about putting on a party. The first show was paid, officially promoted, in a big room with a big sound system, bands on the bill with releases to flog – legitimate “gig”. The second in a venue undisclosed till the last minute, free, home made sound system, loose crowd of assorted locals, blow ins, drug fiends, cushions everywhere, hedonist theme, no official bill etc.

The following is purely observational, but, truth be told, the first gig lacked a little energy. Small turn out (or over sized venue), a sort of unfamiliar vibe in the room, the most exuberant activity amongst the crowd being the odd head nod by a small group of devoted insiders. Second gig however; we arrive to a seething room some time after midnight, full but not uncomfortably so, the air feels a little denser than is natural, music is loud but not excessive, mattresses and cushions everywhere with people strewn all over the floor, a proportion of which are dressed as peacocks. I do my thing, it goes down well, one girl asked me to play something “dancey”, (which I don’t take offense to) some guy started playing along on the drum kit mid way through the set, people I don’t know keep handing me beers through the fake leaves and flowers which mark the boundaries of the stage. Things get quickly out of hand. We leave well after sunrise.

Point of all this is that location, vibe, decor, crowd dynamics – in a word, context, are just as important as what is coming out of the speakers. In fact the instigator of this particular happening said, or at least words to the effect of: “the music is really the last thing we think about, we just rely on our taste and hook ups for that, it’s everything else that we put lots of time and energy into.”

Look here to see some evidence.

break up songs

I recently finished reading Roland Barthes’ A Lover’s Discourse. Anyone who’s read it will know it’s a journey of pain, though a slow burning, morosely satisfying kind of pain. His exposition of love’s nasty bits is relentless, articulate, and at times achingly beautiful.

“I do not oppose myself to the sensorial world, I let desire circulate within me; on the other hand, I prop it up against “my truth”: my truth is to love absolutely: otherwise, I withdraw, I scatter myself, like an army which abandons a siege.”

Despite all his talk of annulment and disollution, there’s an understanding that if love is the labyrinthine delusion he describes it as, then the delusion itself can be savoured; that is, tasted without ever being consumed.

“The best and most delectable wine, and also the most intoxicating… by which, without drinking it, the annihilated soul is intoxicated, a soul at once free and intoxicated! forgetting, forgotten, intoxicated by what it does not drink and will never drink!”

To get multiple perspectives on the topic, I’ve been listening to Screamin Jay Hawkins. Given that Hawkins apparently fathered somewhere between 55 and 75 children, I think it’s fair to say that he didn’t suffer the same anxiety issues that coloured Roland’s romantic adventures. Despite the obvious differences in style and approach there’s common ground between the two.

Anyone out there keen for a more exhaustive look at the existential intracacies of the break up song should probably listen to this podcast, via Chicago Public Radio’s ‘This American Life’. As part of the program, they wrote a crappy song, called Three of us. There was a remix competition, which needless to say I entered, and didn’t win. Here is my remix, titled Three of us – boring crescendo mix.

Sorry these are such crappy files but I don’t have server space so it’s the best I could do.

Faux Pas

Faux pas, aka Tim Shiel, has written a wildly complimentary post about Cleptoclectics on his blog. From Melbourne, he makes delightfully energetic and thoughtful music, and we’ve been toing and froing for well over a year now, exchanging beats, elements, gossip, remixes, and the occasional touch of existential dread. I’ve done two remixes for him, which with any luck might just see the light of day. He is a DIY, internet juice mongering dynamo, who I reckon we might be hearing more from in the future. He’s got two releases already under his belt, and a couple more in the pipeline.

Tim’s blog makes good reading because he shares some of the obscure musical gems he digs up. That might not seem so interesting – but some of what he shares is (by his own admission) the very same material that is remediated straight back to people in his releases, though of course in a twisted, edited, Faux Pas kind of way. I appreciate this kind of musical openness, particularly in a genre which is generally more given to caginess, and reluctance to give up the incriminating details of musical debt.

Tim is a collector in the positive sense, he collects music because he loves it, and enjoys sharing that pleasure with other people. Whereas collecting in the negative sense involves weirdos who derive a sense of power from the possession of rare or coveted objects, and enjoy lording their shit over other people. Despite the obvious contradiction, crate digging culture has always maintained a paradoxical attachment to the aura of the original – in the form of records so rare or obscure as to be practically one offs; little chunks of reality turned into exclusive property. Perhaps on-line digging, and way beyond that, digital audio in general as an infinitely reproducible form of auditory putty, is finally releasing aura (in its Benjaminian sense) from the tyranny of objects, and placing it where it belongs – in the minds of listeners. This idea has led me to dismiss some academic discussions I’ve witnessed recently; (serious po-faced ones about deconstructing the discourse of originality) – as kind of, well, tired.

code is a foreign language

In one of the first incidences of its kind for me, (he knew who i was, I didn’t know who he was) a fresh faced looking guy in what I think was some sort of football jersey approached, and asked when the next cyclic defrost issue is coming out. I said I didn’t know. We stumbled on, yelling over the pretentious prog which the band at this trashy gig was pumping out. Most of the conversation escapes me, but I do remember explaining briefly how some of my favourite plugins, which I used heavily in making the last album for Feral Media, (including this garish one above), won’t work on an intel macbook. Pretty boring stuff. Unless you happen to be a benevolent programming guru, who’s keen to help strangers.

Couple of days later, ported versions of these plugins appear in my inbox, accompanied by a short note. Suffice to say, everyone should have a personal code monkey. This sort of largess is ridiculously rare – Lachlan, if you read this, know that you rule.

I suppose what’s most interesting about this is not the anecdote, but how different minds attack different problems. I’ve been thinking about learning max/msp, or Pd lately. But when I sit down and try and nut it out, I hit brick walls. It’s as if my musical intelligence is rooted entirely in sounds themselves; their textures, rhythms, dynamic. It must be visceral. Whereas for others, the mathematical abstraction that coding provides opens up all sorts of possibilities, and is in and of itself an art form. The tedium and frustration is pleasure, the endless nutting out and testing is mental exercise. I’m hoping one day I’ll reach that point, where I can operate on both levels at once without feeling the need to separate modes of thinking.

I’d like to think specialisation is for ants, that people are smart enough to be true polyglots. But at this stage I’m unsure.

Liminal Blues

Liminal Blues eh? What a pretentious name for a blog. Yeah maybe. Anyway this is my new blog where I’m going to post all the interesting (snigger) stuff I do, see, think, and mostly listen to. Liminal has a duel meaning, in that I’ve heard people use the word to describe freeways, carparks, fast food joint, places where you never really are, but have only been, places where you only go in order to go to other places. For me I suppose it’s more about thresholds, about occupying that point where you push things, learn, change, expand – something like deterritorialization, or transcoding – if there’s anyone out there like me who’s sacrificed days, weeks, to unravel Deleuzian nomenclature. I suppose I want this to be a liminal space. That might be too serious a mission statement, hence the blues…