I DJ a lot. I spin Macedonian Brass Bhangra fusion. I only spin tracks that are 2,620 beats per minute. That's the number of beats a hummingbird's heart beats per minutes. See, I marry the digital w the organic. You probably haven't heard me spin because I only do sets at underground bank vaults in Berlin. People have to dig their own tunnels to get there. That's underground. Once in a while, I also spin at an abandoned mine shaft in Reykjavik.
I spin really hard stuff. You've heard of Jungle? Well, I spin Rainforest. It's called Rainforest because that's how thick my beats are. My beats are thick! And you know when the weather's really shitty and they call it a "Wintry Mix." That's my mix. I remixed winter. That's how good I am. I put sleet before snow and the dancefloor went crazy.
I also host a podcast. (For non-technical people, that's a radio show for people with no friends.) It's a podcast of mashups. If you don't know, mashups are when you take two songs that completely suck and you combine them into one song that's incredible. It's art, man. Last mashup I made: Christina Aguilera's "Genie in a Bottle" mashed up with Cisqo's "The Thong Song." It's called "Genie in a Thong." It's genius, like Rachmaninoff. That's a classical composer. I've never heard him but I read about him once. That's how good my ears are...I just read about shit and I know what it sounds like.
I just finished another mashup. It's Kelly Clarkson's "Since You Been Gone" mashed up with the moans of a dying pelican. It's a political message: "Since you been gone...[mwaaaaaahnnnnnooooogggggggh]." That's "Blowing in the Wind 2008" right there, a call for political change. Everytime I play it, there's a coup somewhere in Latin America. Nicaragua or something.
You should check out my stereo setup. You probably have an iPod. Well, I've got an iPod...it's called a record player. Vinyl. I need all those frequencies because I hear it all. Maybe you can get by with MP3's. Then again, maybe you were in a car accident when you were a kid and it damaged your hearing and you still wet your bed and cry out for you Mom every night. Sorry, not my problem.
I've got killer speakers. My tweeters are tight. And man, you should hear my woofers. My woofers are huge. I can't turn up the low end all the way because I got a cease and desist order from the Indonesian government. See, I was pumping my favorite Norwegian death metal band: ¨. The name's actually an umlaut with another umlaut on top of it. Double umlaut power. I'd tell you to Google them but your keyboard probably doesn't have an umlaut key. I love death metal so much that I got a special keyboard that's made up entirely of umlauts. That's a true hardcore fan, man.
Anyway, ¨ is hardcore, dude. The band has seven bass players, three lead singers (who all sing into megaphones), a guy who plays the siren, and a DJ who scratches in the background. Nice. Last album, they brought a dozen homeless guys into the studio and stabbed them to death and recorded it.
Anyway, I'm blasting ¨ LOUD and I turned up the bass and then I get a call from Indonesia. Turns out my woofers started a crazy tsunami or something. Whatever, Indonesia. Get some soundproofing or something. I'm telling you, you've got to check out my woofers.
My tweeters are top shelf too. I turn up my high end and rottweilers everywhere start boning.
You probably listen to shitty music. Maybe you like emo. I like to listen to emo...when my pussy's bleeding.
That's on my light flow days. On my heavy flow days, I listen to Coldplay. That way I know I can endure any level of pain.
Listening to Coldplay is like being raped in the ears with knitting needles. It's like being raped in the ears by Chris Martin and then he ejaculates all over your brain. And you know what Chris Martin ejaculates? Sensitivity and anti-sweatshop pamphlets. He coats your brain with a viscous moral certitude.
I bet you like the Dave Matthews Band. Every Dave Matthews album should come with a sweatband. That way, after you're done listening, you can wipe the suck off your face.
Maybe you like the White Stripes. They used to be cool, before they sold out. I was into them in the early days, before they even put out a record. Before they even played instruments. I was into them when they were embryos. I got a bootleg of Jack White's ultrasound on a white label 7-inch. I said, "This kid's got something." And then he was born and I said, "Sell out." Being born is a totally mainstream move. Stay true to the womb next time, Jack.
Now I've got my eyes on a new prodigy, a four year old kid who lives in New Mexico. He plays a mean "Chopsticks" on the pan flute. Pan flute is totally hot right now. Lots of gypsy influence to his playing. And Romanian gypsy, not that Hungarian gypsy crap.
Alright, I'm gonna go listen to my new favorite band. They're called Wolfowitz. They're from the South Pole. The lead singer is an Eskimo who sings sea chants. Then there's one guy who plays sitar, one guy on lute, a choir of Gregorian monks, a theremin player, three guys who play the laptop, two guys who play moog, a brass section, and a DJ who scratches. They only record inside caves. Their new album sucks, but they've got a couple of B-sides that are cool.
Permalink | 11/18/2007