This discussion of sound goodness probably needs a revisit to Mr Scruff's masterclass on setting up your club night. Beautiful stuff front to back.
Danielle, in reply to Bart Janssen, about an hour ago
I'm not entirely sure why anyone thinks I am advocating "doing nothing". I'm advocating "not doing this as it is currently proposed". I'm also advocating for less emotive doomsaying and more sensible, encouraging, logical things that might actually work.
How very dare you! :-)
Great stuff on the Brooklyn digs. I remember P-Money tweeting some great finds when he was working over there a few years. It's on my bucket list!
Also, Laura Lee is a boss.
Nelson has a second records sale to go with tunes and a pint of your fine craft ale at Rhythm & Brown on New Street from 4.00pm.
Niceness. My man DJ Wrongtom has a "..meets the Ragga Twins" album coming out later this year. Expecting nothing less than wall to wall bangers.
Remember when some genius decided to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Woodstock by staging a commercial festival on an ex-airforce base with Insane Clown Posse, Korn & Limp Biskit headlining? Carnage ensued with vandalism, sexual violence and a riot to finish the whole wretched event off.
Laneway is the opposite of that but maybe it has something to do with the commercialisation and scale of these events? You see crass behaviour at large sporting events as well, maybe people feel like they can lose themselves and get away with behaviour they wouldn't in a small group or at smaller events. I really don't know.
My husband and I are fucking sad as shit. I realised this morning this has catapulted right to the top of my personal Musician Death Sadness Rankings. I'm not sure how to create a proper post about this quite yet.
I hear ya. The deaths of Bowie, Lemmy and John Bradbury (The Specials) all in the space of 2 weeks are like disparate elements of my youth breaking off and disappearing. Feels too soon for this.
Some excellent music nerdy for you Pete: how Bowie fathered the Sleng Teng rhythm and the Sex Pistols' 'God Save the Queen'.
Love it! I've always just presumed it was based on Eddie Cochrane but you can certainly hear it in "Hang onto yourself", possibly with Bowie inspired by EC of course.
Nothing brings back feelings of what a remote outpost NZ was in the 1970s like David Bowie. His album covers for Ziggy, Alladin Sane, Pin Ups and Diamond Dogs between 1972-74 show him to be a completely alien presence, almost unfathomable to the reality of growing up over here. That mystery is what made him so attractive.
I don't think you can underestimate the internationalism he brought to popular music for us white bread suburban audiences as well. It's easy to forget post-hip hop, dance music, remix culture and the Internet that once upon a time we had no access to or knowledge of the sounds of Africa, the middle East, Eastern Europe etc... that he embraced and challenged us with, particularly over the 10 year period from Young Americans through to Let's Dance.
I met Lemmy, well my arse did (ahem), right at the end of the Christchurch Town Hall gig where several of us (male & female) had been stage diving into the crowd all night. It was a fairly brutal atmosphere filled with bikers, punks, skins, students & assorted reprobates as well as the odd frightened old person up in the box seats. All had gone well until my last dig where standing up to dive coincided with the Kilminster doing his patented bass machine gun stage charge. This grubby little skinned-up herbert popped up in front of him & dived out into the crowd with perfect timing to catch a Lemmy snake skin boot up my arse.
He sent me into orbit, over the front rows and ploughing face first into the Town Hall floor several rows back, sadly missing the catchers and into the folks who move away when human bodies pass by at catching height. I lay there peacefully through the 10+ minutes of the Overkill encore, not sure if I would ever move again, before a couple of mates picked me up & dragged me out of the venue.
Artistically they were already done by then (the first & proper Philthy Phil era had just finished and Fast Eddie was gone), I never felt the need to buy another album, but I'm so pleased to have seen them (ahem), just that once.
Also, my mate Milty got stabbed in the bum at the very aggressive Palmerston North gig & Lemmy visited him to offer commiserations, if not a kiss, on the offended area. Happy days!