8Sided Blog

the scene celebrates itself

A Singing and Dancing A-Team

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Why Are K-Pop Groups So Big? → Initially, I thought the headline was referring to the immense international popularity of K-Pop groups. But it relates to the growing membership sizes of these acts. Did you know there’s a K-pop group with 23 members? The article also details how larger groups can have multiple spin-off groups (‘subunits’). And there are specific roles and ‘divisions of labor’ within each act’s membership. These acts end up sounding like elite military brigades — or a singing and dancing A-Team, with each personality assigned a duty or specialty. A typical ‘old,’ I find all of this confusing and fascinating. Check out this bit:

Wanna One, the 5th highest-selling K-pop group of the past decade, was formed in 2017 on the second season of survival show Produce 101. Produce 101 supposedly allowed fans to “produce” their dream K-pop group from 101 trainees by voting on the member lineup. For some, a spot in the final group was too valuable to leave up to chance—the show is currently under investigation for vote-rigging by internal staff and external agencies.

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Jazz Musician Lettering → It’s often annoying when modern album covers ape the classic design style of the jazz-era, but there’s nothing wrong with the aesthetics serving as inspiration. And there’s a lot of inspiration found in this compilation of typography and lettering found in the artist names adorning records from the mid-century. Many jazz covers are so iconic that we overlook the inventiveness behind the text. This format invites an examination without the images and layout that complete the full design. Blogger Reagan Ray says, “Rather than post 100s of covers and posters, I wanted to isolate the lettering for easy browsing and analysis. There’s a lot of lettering out there, and a lot I left out.”

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Newsletter Subscriptions → Haven’t you heard? Email newsletters are a thing! Even I’ve got one. Newsletters are a significant move away from the information chokehold of social media — personalized ‘posts’ arriving in email inboxes with our permission and without the judgment of indecipherable algorithms. Finding the right newsletters for you is a little more complicated. First thing: check out the websites of your favorite authors and thinkers — chances are most of them have a newsletter. There’s also a fun newsletter about newsletter recommendations, Thanks For Subscribing. And, though it’s limited to the growing Substack platform, the search engine Stacksear.ch is useful. You type in a word or interest, and the search results show Substack newsletters where your phrase has recently appeared.

One quick thing you might not know about Substack: each newsletter domain has an RSS feed. That’s great for readers as they can get Substack newsletters delivered to an RSS reader without necessarily subscribing. That’s how I read many Substack newsletters. But I feel guilty as this is also bad for newsletter publishers — if we’re reading via RSS, we’re not actually subscribed, affecting the newsletter’s subscriber count. A compromise is to use something like Feedbin, which gives you a special email address to use to subscribe to newsletters. This email address delivers them into your RSS feed. That’s what I do now, and it makes for a better reading experience and keeps my email inbox relatively sane.

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Khemkhaeng – บ้าน → This ambient mini-album from a mysterious Thailand-based producer is a wonder. It’s not often a release in the ambient genre sounds fresh and new. Khemkhaeng rises to the challenge, and these five songs have a rare quality — I want them to last longer. As I wrote in my short Bandcamp review, “Everything here is beautiful, sublime, and seemingly of its own world — but ‘ดูรู้สึก’ is especially distinctive and fascinating. I may have to edit a seamless loop of this track so I can sit inside it all day.”

Thank Me In Ten Years

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Last night I watched the new documentary about The Go-Go’s. The doc shares the name of the band, and I don’t know why that apostrophe is there, but it’s there, and it drives me crazy. Another thing that drives me crazy is when bands don’t evenly share songwriting credits (and, in turn, publishing royalties) and end up acrimoniously splitting up. Yes, one person may write all the songs. But that person didn’t come up with that drum part or that bass guitar riff, and the song wouldn’t be the same without those. 

This is a prime example of long-term thinking, as bands that swallow their pride and share songwriting credits are the ones that stay together for a long time. Just ask U2 — which you might find surprising as they’re known for having a singer with a Jupiter-sized ego. But U2 splits their songwriting credits four ways.

If you need further convincing, listen to this interview with REM’s Mike Mills on Brian Koppelman’s The Moment. Mills was a principal songwriter in that band from the beginning. And he explains that it took a lot of coaxing to get him to share songwriting credits on his songs equally with his bandmates. In retrospect, he’s thankful he did as he owes this to REM’s long career and continuing friendship.

And the other side of the coin — The Police.

If I were a band manager, this would be the first thing I’d tell any new band I took on: share your songwriting credits and share your publishing. Thank me in ten years.

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In today’s issue of his fantastic newsletter, Joe Muggs shared this video of Kraftwerk in 1973 publicly debuting Wolfgang Flür and his homemade electronic percussion. Says Muggs:

You can see the transformation happening in front of your eyes from the psychedelic band they were to the true, technology-centred Kraftwerk: even the outfits are mid transformation, smartened up but not quite the uniforms that would define them. Only months after this, they would record the Autobahn album.

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I had my first long conversation with a COVID-19 survivor. It feels like I should have spoken to many others as I’m here in Florida where things are, uh, not cool. It probably says a lot about the effectiveness of my sequestration. Anyway, I did not realize this friend caught the virus at the end of March. We’ve only chatted briefly online since then, understandably not the place you’d want to bring up the subject. In a phone call, he revealed his illness, and I was full of questions. Yes, it was 14 days of hell — it’s nothing like the flu, folks — but he was lucky and recovered. Even though he feels 100% most of the time now, he told me that there are moments when he feels unusually out-of-breath. He’s athletic, so this happens sometimes (but not all the time) when he’s doing sports-like activities. That’s scary, and I feel bad for the professional athletes who may not perform at a high level after recovering from this illness. Anyway, it was an illuminating conversation — hearing about the virus first-hand made it much more ‘real.’ If you know anyone who has had COVID-19, I recommend having an inquisitive chat if they’re willing. 

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Friend of Ringo and fellow Butthole Surfers fanatic Richard Norris — he of The Grid, Beyond The Wizard’s Sleeve, and a myriad of other projects — has announced a new album titled Elements. Richard describes it as fusing “warm analogue synths, widescreen ambience and pulsating, subtly changing sequencers, creating a hypnotic, mesmerising work.” It’s out on September 4. I haven’t bought a compact disc in a while, but if I did buy one, it would be Elements. The CD has the most gorgeous packaging. Here’s the first track (and the first element), offered as a preview: “Earth.”

Oneness of Juju’s Music for the People

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I’m having a deep listen to Strut’s new reissue of African Rhythms 1970-1982, a collection of classic tracks by Oneness of Juju. The Richmond, VA, based band is led by saxophonist/flutist James “Plunky Nkabinde” Branch, with its roots in the early ’70s avant-garde jazz community of San Francisco and the NYC loft scene. As part of the former, he met and collaborated with South African exile Ndikho Xaba who introduced Plunky to the concepts and philosophy of African music. Inspired, Plunky incorporated these concepts with his jazz influences and developed a ‘music as devotion’ mindset. He brought these ideas to New York, where he worked directly with Ornette Coleman and Sun Ra. A move back home to Richmond stirred more ingredients into this already flavorful stew as Plunky sought to build a music for the people: 

“In the Richmond, Virginia, area, there was not as much of a market for avant-garde jazz as you might think,” Plunk says with a laugh over the phone. “So we incorporated some R&B elements, and a drummer playing a drum set, and a guitar, and added a female vocalist. We had to meet our audience halfway. We started bridging this line between R&B and funk and avant-garde jazz. I was conscious of trying to find an audience for the message we had in our music, and trying to serve the community and make a living, which is how we ended up with this convergence of styles.”

Richmond’s vicinity to Washington, DC, allowed frequent performances by Oneness of Juju in the nation’s capital. DC’s audiences were receptive to the diverse stylistic palette the band offered. Plunky thinks this is because “all these embassies and people coming from all over the world for various reasons … different parts of their culture were based in DC.” And these performances often took place at protests rather than concert venues, exposing a political subtext to Oneness of Juju’s cultural mixture. Again, the band sought to provide the music of the people:

”… all of those dudes, Gil Scott, Chuck Brown, Oneness of Juju, Experience Unlimited, a big part of what we did in those days was not just parties and nightclubs, but also participating in demonstrations. There were any number of other community-based activities in the public parks; summer-long festivals and weekly concerts that all those acts would participate in. They started out as street concerts and would get thousands of people to come out. And music was the drawing card.”

Plunky’s mission to deliver his people’s music continues to this day. Since the beginning of The Strange Times, he’s given impromptu concerts on the porch of his Richmond house nightly for neighbors who require musical relief.

African Rhythms 1970-1982 is a spirited listen, its songs moving effortlessly from funk, afro-rhythms, disco, rock, spiritual jazz, and in between tangents. The supercharged disco of the Larry Levan favorite “Every Way But Loose” will probably ring a few bells, as will the undeniable classic “African Rhythms,” famously sampled and reworked by none other than J Dilla. I’m also taken by the collection’s ‘unreleased version’ of “Bootsie’s Lament” which sounds not too far off from a lost Sun Ra Arkestra nugget. Percussive jazz workouts like “Sabi” are also here and extraordinary, as is the slow, night jazz of “Space Jungle Funk” — a classy instrumental made strange via some wild stompbox effects on Plunky’s saxophone. 

In its physical form, the collection is a triple vinyl album, featuring over two hours of music. Despite the variety of sounds and influences, these 24 tracks distinctively belong to Oneness of Juju. Listening from beginning to end is an illuminating and coherent journey — you can hear Black music’s history and its future steps. Uplifting and combative, audacious and resilient, African Rhythms 1970-1982 is the music of a turbulent past and suitable — while optimistic — for our stormy present.

🔗→ Oneness Of Juju Were The Collision Of Jazz, Funk, African Music And The Avant-Garde
🔗→ Oneness of Juju: How an Avant-Garde Jazz Group Created A Cult Classic in the Black Arts Movement

#Worktones: Ralph Kinsella, epic45, M. Sage

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It’s been a while since I rounded up some #Worktones that are inhabiting the home office via a pair of strategically placed desk-top speakers. Here are three albums that provide a calming concentration in these frazzling times.

Ralph Kinsella is a Scottish guitarist hailing from Dumfries and Galloway, a region primarily known to some (me) as the filming location of The Wicker Man. He reached out to the blog with a ‘check out my music’ email. I do listen when emailed (unless I’ve been bcc’ed, in which case I don’t), but I rarely receive delightful surprises like what Ralph had in store. His Abstraction EP is a gorgeous 5-tracker filled with soft, layered tones and subtle shoegaze moments. The guitar is front-and-center but awash in reverb and delay and accompanied by electronics and atmospherics. I’d describe Ralph’s EP as bright, gentle, and optimistic — as if Sarah Records released ambient music. I’m especially welcoming this sort of music into my life right now, and I can’t wait to hear Ralph’s future efforts. The Abstraction EP is a free download on Bandcamp, so there’s nothing to stop you from grabbing it. [LINK]

Continuing with more UK-based guitar ambiance, I was happy to discover We Were Never Here, the latest release from epic45. Rob Glover and Benjamin Holton, who make up the core of the band, started this project in 1995 while still in their early teens. epic45’s discography is a dozen-plus strong, and, sadly, I’m not familiar with any of it. But I take it this beatless and vocal-free album is a slight departure. A limited compact disc version of the album came with a booklet of photos of “familiar suburban and semi-rural ‘nowhere places’ that exist between large towns and cities.” The music matches this description, as these songs evoke vast, stumbled-upon locations — not the intended destination but compelling nonetheless. The sound is lush and memory-inducing, and, in addition to the occasional guitar, a menagerie of instruments, textures, and field recordings float from track-to-track. We Were Never Here is music for movies you watch with your eyes closed. [LINK]

M. Sage is a #Worktones veteran, and I previously remarked on the ‘happy accident’ spirit and sense of emergence I picked up from his music. Cattails & Scrap Tactics is his “collection of fragments, sketches, environments, and atmospheres,” compiled for Bandcamp’s June 5 artist-appreciation day, with all proceeds donated to Chicago’s My Block My Hood My City organization. I can hear the sound of an artist experimenting and wandering, but these are hardly rescued discards. It’s an album of thought bursts, welcoming attention and standing still as a complete document of the creative question. And it’s often beautiful and filled with exciting ideas. You’ll spot a guitar here, too, alongside a bevy of unidentifiable and mostly peaceful sounds to tickle the eardrums. If you’d like a download, you might be too late — the album was only available for purchase on June 5 as a special one-off. But it’s still streaming on the site — and that might be only temporary, too, so listen while you can. [LINK]

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Marc Méan’s Collage: Imperfect in the Best Way Possible

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Long before Brian Eno dreamed-up the term ambient music, there was “Furniture Music.” Coined by composer Erik Satie in 1917, “Furniture Music” intends to “make a contribution to life in the same way as a private conversation, a painting in a gallery, or the chair in which you may or may not be seated” (Satie’s words).

There’s a story of the debut of “Furniture Music” (or more correctly “Furnishing Music” — ‘musique d’ameublement’). Satie performed it during the intermission of a play, and the audience was encouraged to mill about as they usually would during a theater break. Instead, and much to Satie’s frustration, the audience stayed seated and listened. 

Marc Méan is a Zürich-based musician who has found inspiration in Satie’s “Furniture Music” 100+ years later. It informs his fascinating album Collage, a set — and cassette — of two twenty-minute compositions that vibrate from ethereal soundscapes to lightly percussive sound design. It’s experimental in sound and process and, though “Furniture Music” serves as a launching pad, like Satie’s intermission music Collage leaves the listener more attentive than passive. 

“[Satie’s] approach fascinated me,” Marc says. “Before that, I was playing mostly jazz and improvised music, which required me to be active and personally involved as a listener and as a performer. It’s music where you have to be highly reactive to everything around you, where everything happens fast, where one prefers evolution to repetition. I wanted to find an approach to music where I could slow things down, where I could stretch time, be more passive, find simplicity.”

The inspiration came through the acquisition of an unusual electronic instrument. Marc explains, “It all began when I acquired Peter Blasser’s instrument the Ciat-Lonbarde Cocoquantus. It is a weird synthesizer-sampler that has a life of its own.” 

Originating in Portland and partly hand-crafted out of wood, the Cocoquantus is a sampler combined with looping delays and multiple analog synthesizer engines for modulation. Blasser himself describes the Cocoquantus as “not for the faint of heart: but once you speak its language, nothing else is quite the same.”

“Peter Blasser’s instruments don’t come with manuals,” Marc says. “Nothing is labeled on the instrument, so you have to explore it yourself. And I have never been someone who likes to practice for the sake of practicing. I always need to work in a musical context to learn something new. So while taming this new instrument, I recorded all my experiments.”

The process developed into a creative game (or, as I like to say, a tiny accident). Marc explains: “I like the idea of organized chaos, of controlled randomness in my work. The more I surprise myself in the creative process, the more interesting the music will be to me afterward. In the end, I felt that the material had a strong unity because of the gear I used. The Cocoquantus has such a strong personality that it binds the recordings together.” These exploratory pieces were combined to form the backbone of Collage. 

The resulting album is a lovely and imaginative trek through experimental ambiance. There are haunting piano moments, teasing through snatches of melody transmitted from a distance. Distinctively electronic antics appear, manipulated bleeps and clicks that soon give way to luminous passages. For all of its digital manipulation, Collage is warm and organic sounding, and the two twenty-minute stitched-together compositions don’t sound stitched-together at all.

Though there are elements of ambient ‘drone’ music, Collage‘s pieces develop and subtly change, sometimes offering surprises for the listener. “I can’t help myself but to have things evolve and have some drama,” Marc says. “The two sides are designed as a response to each other. One doesn’t need to listen to both sides back-to-back, but I would recommend listening to each in its entirety.”

I get this impression even as I listen to Collage as a digital stream on Bandcamp. The nature of the tracks, their grainy sound, and 20-minute lengths make Collage imaginable in a cassette format. Marc embraces Collage on cassette: “I like when music can be tangible; when music pairs with an object. It grounds things into a reality in this era where everything is virtual. Also, analog tape was used during the recording to transform and give color to certain elements. So for me, it makes sense that Collage is available on a physical medium.”  

Thus Neologist Productions has issued Collage on cassette, limited to 30 copies. The artwork is beautiful and visually fits the tone of the music. And, as Marc points out, the cassette may be the best way to experience Collage: “Because of the physicality of the cassette the listening experience is different. Cassettes sound different than a digital medium. Cassettes are lo-fi in comparison, they wobble a bit, they age, they are imperfect in the best way possible.”

Listen to Collage on various streaming platforms or on Bandcamp (where you can also purchase the limited edition cassette).

#Worktones: Loscil, M. Sage, Dytomite Starlite Band of Ghana

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Here’s a trio of excellent musical selections that have been permeating the home office this past week. It’s the latest installment in a series that I’m calling #Worktones.

Before knowing the photographic inspiration behind Equivalents, I mentally described the sound of the album as ’the hum of weightlessness.’ I wasn’t too far off. Those photos are a series of black and white pictures of clouds, captured and decontextualized by artist Alfred Stieglitz in the mid-to-late ‘20s. Some consider this work the first intentionally abstract photo-art statement. Here Loscil (the Vancouver-based musician Scott Morgan) deploys processed piano in sonic washes and layers that can recall an imaginative session of cloud-watching. Many only see uniform clouds in the sky — an everyday occurrence — while the lucky ones stop to pick out distinctive shapes, implications, and gentle reminders. Equivalents welcomes a similar exercise, rewarding the deep listener with soothing impressions of an atmospheric terrain.

Catch a Blessing is an adventurous album, in that it has the feeling of exploring unworn paths and venturing down overgrown trails. The album begins with the lively “Avondale Primer Gray,” hinting at randomness and an embrace of the ‘happy accident.’ But as things in nature experience emergence, the ensuing tracks, though sonically unconnected, appear to gather into themes that are just out of grasp. M. Sage, the artist behind this work, assists the experience with field recordings — such as the nostalgic fireworks of “Polish Triangle” — and guest musicians providing beautiful and exotic strings to “Window Unit + Three Flat.” But it’s the short but moving “Michigan Turquoise” that stands out, a lonely ballad complete with a looped guitar strum, seabird calls, and a mournful crooner transported by magic from a distant time.

It’s not all strange ambient music playing at the workspace. Some days (Monday mornings?) require an uplift, music that’s got some get-up-and-go. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t work alongside songs with words, especially when I’m writing. But there’s an exception for languages I don’t understand, especially when rhythmically sung in mesh with the instrumentation. This reissue of a rare 1982 album from Africa’s mysterious Dytomite Starlite Band of Ghana fits the bill. I say ‘mysterious’ as BBE, the reissuing label, doesn’t have much information on those involved. The songs are wonderful and instantly improve the mood and feature more than a few tight synthesizer riffs. I love listening to this stuff. I’m presently reading Rosewater, a terrific novel set in future Nigeria, so there’s some geographical synergy in my media consumption. FYI: BBE is quickly reissuing decades-old albums from the extensive back catalog of Nigerian label Tabansi Records and this is one of many in that series. The titles I’ve heard so far are consistently worth your time.

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#WorkTones: Mileece, Laraaji, Roedelius

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As I toil away in the home office, I often listen to quiet, experimental music from artists found on Bandcamp. I’ve started collecting and writing about these albums in a series I’m calling #Worktones. Here’s the 2nd installment:

It’s rare to hear something as simultaneously captivating and gentle as the series of staccato ‘pings’ found on Formations. Mileece — an artist who happens to be the granddaughter of the man who programmed the first computer-generated song — is fascinated by seemingly random processes in nature: the patterns of a snowflake, or the leaves of a fern, or rain’s gradual effect on a landscape. Applying this obsession to music construction creates rules within randomness, and we’ve taken to calling this ‘generative music.’ 2003 was an early time to purposefully dabble in generative electronics but Formations sounds seasoned, assured, and surprisingly organic. The album closes with “Nightfall,” revealing Mileece’s breath and soothing voice, reminding us of her guiding human influence on Formations’ otherwise arbitrary systems.

Laraaji, who of course we originally know from Eno-aligned collaborations, joins English musician Merz and multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily for, in Merz’s words, “a type of music that could co-exist in sanctified temples and in city urbanism.” Dreams of Sleep and Wakes of Sound might veer close to that lofty description, blending unmapped sounds of a heavenly nature with the hustle-and-bustle of layered treatments and aural tension. Each of the three participants isn’t present on every track (Laraaji contributes to just a few) but the sound and techniques remain unified. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on a song, shimmering washes of instrumentation build and surround what was once a simple structure. Titles like “That’s Your Blue Home” hint at introspective inspirations, apropos of how the music often suddenly expands as if soundtracking an epiphany.

It was an honor to see the legend that is Roedelius a couple of years ago at Orlando’s wonderful Timucua White House. The music was experimental and quiet, not at all jarring, and serenely transmitted the artist’s feelings in a tumultuous world. After Roedelius’s reassuring performance we left the venue calm and satisfied. Lunz 3, his latest collaboration with the equally prolific Tim Story, is no different. It’s pretty, but not so pretty as to hide a subtle agitation underneath. But that’s what makes this music so comforting — the impression that there’s room for beauty and contemplation in spite of the burning hum that encircles us.

#WorkTones: Bana Haffar, Nicola Cruz, Ditherfix

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Rather than whistling while I work, I listen to weird music. Cleverly (?) labeled worktones, here are a few office selections from the past couple of days.

The venerable Touch label has issued a live set from Asheville synthesist Bana Haffar. Described as a Saudi-born ‘life-long expatriate’, Haffar has worked to distance herself from the musical discipline learned as a classical violinist and electric bassist, presently opting for the unrestrained dialogue of modular electronics. This release captures the 33-minute “Genera” as performed at AB Salon in Brussels. Haffar’s modular wizardry is on full display, accompanied by gentle field recordings to shift the listener’s imagined landscape. The result is adventurous, though also hypnotic and warm. I’m pleasantly lost in this.

Nicola Cruz’s Siku takes its name from an Andean panpipe and, if I’m not mistaken, you’re hearing it played throughout this promising album. These tracks are an example of ‘fourth world music‘1And ambiguous ‘fourth world’ music is my favorite kind of music, it should be noted. that not only blurs worldly genres but mixes these styles with contemporary electronics. Not completely liminal, the cuts retain an ethnicity and the electronic elements — mostly focused on the rhythms — often hover away from the primary focus. But the experiment is rewarding and there are moments when the collision is of its own category. The final track, “Esu Enia,” is the most intriguing, pivoting back-and-forth from traditional-sounding tuned percussion to dark, synthesized responses. Siku could have pushed further, but I anticipate Cruz will continue to explore these fascinating combinations.

Ditherfix (or [ d i t h e r f i x ]) is creating horror-movie drone ambiance mainly on iOS. That means he’s on an iPad — or maybe even an iPhone — conjuring these cinematic noises in settings that include “in the woods, on a train, at the kitchen table, a corner chair, or at times operating from an ironing board in the bedroom.” I love the idea of this mobility and it’s exciting to see iOS gain traction as a production tool. Just as the walkman changed how we listen to music, an untethered yet sonically capable portable electronic studio undoubtedly produces music directly influenced by the surrounding environment. In the case of the seven thunders, that must have been an incredibly spooky ironing board. (h/t Daniel Fuzztone)

Jogging House’s Lure: A Quiet Resistance

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A review of the album Lure, by hopeful ambient artist Jogging House.

There was this charming quality to a lot of ambient music in the ’90s — optimistic and melodic, far off from today’s dominating dark drones. It was a different era, and perhaps the sound reflected a rosy view of what awaited in the new millennium. But what we find in the 2010s are the hushed rushes of disconcerting noise and queasy clashing of synth lines, an ambiance of tension and uncertainty befitting our times. It makes sense — the world is an increasingly scary and debilitating place, and sometimes our music sounds like it. But optimism is resistance — it really is — and that’s what makes Jogging House’s latest album Lure so welcome, special, and quietly radical.

Jogging House — whose name is apparently a letter added to ‘jogging hose,’ AKA sweat pants — states the album is “about accepting the things we cannot change and finding comfort in uncertainty.” This philosophy is the pragmatism of the stoic, and it’s also not being paralyzed with helplessness when the world is out of control. Staying in motion and hopeful as an artist and creator rather than blocked and immobile in the face of hourly ‘breaking news’ and topical turmoil. That’s resistance.

I want to connect Jogging House to Brian Eno, but not to compare him to another composer working in the ‘ambient’ realm. Instead, I think Lure‘s songs closely reflect something Eno said in an interview: “One of the reasons one makes music or any kind of art is to create the world that you’d like to be in or the world that you would like to try. You would like to find out what that world is like.” That’s how I feel when I listen to “Tulip,” Lure‘s opening track. It’s transportive — light and playful, melodies as aspiration and reassurance that’s calm and kind. And it’s gorgeous, on the verge of sadness but not quite getting there. This is a world I’d like to try.

The album’s eight tracks share this gentle atmosphere, evoking a separate era. It’s the optimism of the past looking forward, like the mentioned-above ’90s electronic acts but also not too far from those pioneering the form in the ’70s. I’ll give in and sonically connect Eno anyway, as the beautiful “Weavings” wouldn’t be out of place on a Cluster album. Lure was recorded on 1/4″ tape, after all, using a variety of not-in-the-box gear.

But I emphasize this isn’t merely a throwback — it’s music fit for our times. These sounds are an encouragement to persevere rather than wallow; to foster hope and the imagination of something better for us all. You may ask, how can something so serene inspire action? It can, I respond. It really can.

What Am I Doing Now? (May 2019 Recap)

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  • I’m gearing up for a few days at MusicBiz 2019 in Nashville, starting on May 5. I’m expecting terrific panels, productive meetings, new contacts, seeing some old friends, and perhaps an announcement or two from my camp. If you are in Nashville for this conference, then feel free to drop me a line and let’s meet up.
  • The first Q-Burns Abstract Message release since 2011’s “Balearic Chainsaw” is out now on 8D Industries and it’s called AUDIOTOTEMPOLE. This is a special release, and it closes a loop of sorts. These are songs spanning the years. The one with ‘1997’ in the title is that old, and I completed the newest track three months ago. I think that I can now move on to new pastures, new sounds, new — and more frequent — Q-BAM releases.
  • Additionally, on the Q-Burns Abstract Message front, I’m breaking my DJ retirement for one night to play at the Phat N’ Jazzy 25th anniversary party. There are only a few things that would get me to DJ again and this party qualifies. Twenty-five years ago I had a weekly gig playing spacey trip hop records in the backroom of Phat N’ Jazzy at The Beach Club. It was my first residency, and it’s where I honed my DJ craft. I’d probably be in a different place today if the P’n’J crew didn’t trust me to command the backroom vibe. For the May 11 anniversary party I’ll be playing the tunes from that classic era, or at least the ones I still have on vinyl.
  • Consultancy: I’m currently working with Reza of Vexillary, Deepak of Hidden Recordings, and I’ll be advising Snax once again starting next week. A big thanks to my clients for being on board and receptive to some crazy (but effective!) ideas. I’m expanding the consultancy into special one-on-one workshops over the next couple months.
  • Soon you’ll hear me blabbing about music industry stuff on the This Is Orlando and Scotch and Good Conversation podcasts. I also did a long interview with the site MyMusicMoments that I feel good about. I’ll post links to all of these in the blog once they’re online.

Listening (music):

• Simon Scott – Below Sea Level
• Khotin – Beautiful You
• Mary Lattimore & Mac McCaughan – New Rain Duets
• Kankyō Ongaku: Japanese Ambient, Environmental & New Age Music 1980-1990
• Helado Negro – This Is How You Smile
• The 180 Gs – Commercial Album
• Revisited Sonic Youth’s Sister and Mission of Burma’s Vs. in a big way.

Listening (podcasts):

• Cherie Hu’s relatively new Water & Music podcast is great. Stellar music industry commentary. Check out the episode with Amber Horsburgh for starters.
• On Russell Brand’s Under The Skin, I enjoyed the conversations with Douglas Rushkoff and Derren Brown.
• Bob Lefsetz’s podcast is back, and the episode with Billy Bragg is a lot of fun. I especially enjoyed the history lesson on skiffle.
• John Livesay’s appearance on Big Questions With Cal Fussman was super-insightful on the topics of marketing and developing stories.

Watching:

• Cold War
• Free Solo (inspirational)
• Silent Light
• We finished The Americans. I was unsure for the first couple of seasons but we hung in there which paid off … the show got really good (as I’m sure you’ve heard).
• And, sure, we’re watching Game of Thrones. And Gay of Thrones.

Reading:

• Finished Bobby Fischer Goes To War which was fantastic, though it did wind down a bit mid-match (and 3/4 into the book) once it became apparent that Fischer would win. I wholeheartedly recommend it, though. One big complaint: the book mentions throughout that Bobby Fischer often listened to ‘rock n’ roll’ while preparing and practicing, but there’s no mention or clue as to the records of bands he liked. I want to know!
• I’m now halfway through Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash after multiple people coincidentally recommended it to me over the same few weeks. Confession: this is the first fiction book I’ve read since 2001. No idea why I gave up on fiction, but I’ve meant to get back into it. So far so good — I’m enjoying Snow Crash, though I still am not sure what it is about the book (or me) that inspired various friends to point me to it.

Misc:

• I started using Focusmate over the past few weeks. I’m using it right now. It’s a game-changer — expect a blog post about this soon. In the meantime, here’s the article that convinced me to give Focusmate a try.
• Civic Minded 5, my favorite concert promoters, hosted the trio of Nels Cline/Larry Ochs/Gerald Cleaver a couple of weeks back. A mind-blowing show. There were two sets — the second half of set one was explosive and set two was at times drone-y and Krautrock-y. So good. Again, I’ve never been disappointed by a Civic Minded 5 show and am grateful they are here in Orlando. Your city should be jealous.