THE GREAT GADFLY:

Last Night A DJ Saved My Life



Strut Records can do no wrong.

Last night I rewarded myself for a monolithically crappy week survived, by heading to the local wrecka stow and browsing the new and used music racks. As much as I wanna get ol' Johnny Cash's "American Recordings IV" and hear how the Man In Black fares covering Nine Inch Nails and duetting with Nick Cave (yeah, you read all that right), his recent output grows more and more heartbreaking - not in a painful or embarrrassing way, mind you - but in a way I can only describe as a man at death's door who still has a full belly of fire. You hear him coming and going. And I really wasn't in the mood for any more mortal melancholy on my plate, thanks...though I'm seriously contemplating marching my sorry ass back over to the wrecka stow and picking it up today. Sigh...

I also passed up the new (reunion?) Suicide album, which looked like a cross between a good ol' fashioned punk rawk protest album and their well-deserved attempt to capitalize on the electroclash movement they unknowingly spawned when they channeled their meager gutterpunk resources together in the '70s and created a lo-fi Casiotone shock-rock duo of drunken rants and broken glass melody. I only recently discovered Suicide by way of a documentary series on late '70s/early '80s punk scene performances, and I'm still digesting their first album, recorded 20+ years ago. Am I ready to hear what the refined, aged, established version of this once uber-trainwrecky, primitive, skanked-out band has to offer in 2002? As of last night, the answer would be a hesitant "no".

Ah, if only I had the money to pile up every wad of ear-candy that caught my attention. I scanned the used bins...the new Wilco? Been curious about it, but not really in the mood to lean toward jangle. Pass. Some new insane-genius singer/songwriter on M. Gira's record label, which sports a schizzy cover and loopy song titles? Probably shouldn't take any blind risks until the cashflow improves. Fuck. Oh, HOLY CRAP, look at this - Dead or Alive's "NUKLEOPATRA" - used! I'd love to own this, simply for the over-the-top camp value. But again, my current budget doesn't allow for buying music simply for its objet d'art value, so I stifle a cackle and continue on my search, waiting for my "sure thing" sense to tingle.

And then I found it, crouched in the corner of the new releases, a little bit too expensive but damn if it didn't vibrate when I touched it: "Freddy Fresh Presents B-BOY STANCE: Original Old Skool Party Rockers."

THERE we go.

This is a non-stop DJ mix of 26 old-old-B.C.-OLD-skool hip-hop treasures, brought to us by the same label that graced the world with the audio documentary "Flash", which was a sound collage/mix-tape/best-of live set/running narrative of All Things Grandmaster Flash, which included one of the most satisfyingly full-of-STUFF recordings I've ever heard, and such extensive liner notes that I'm still trying to uncross my eyes from taking in all the information. This was clearly a project put together by people who loved the music and wanted people to understand their devotion. It worked.

"B-Boy Stance" is yet another exhaustive love-fest, putting you in the world of early-'80s hip-hop and connecting the dots between the early days of rap and the current wave of electro-chic reaching its ubiquitous crescendo faster than you can say "The Teaches of Madonna: Live At Danceteria". Or something like that...

This compilation is the kind of thing you can toss into your CD player and let color your world for the next 80 minutes. It's a life soundtrack for vibrancy, color, life, celebration, energy. It's the Fat Boys and Marley Marl and Big Daddy Kane and Kraftwerk samples and "Jesus Christ Superstar" riffs. It's beats fatter than Shirley Hemphill, bless her formidable soul. It's attitude before bling-bling, urban before Ja Rule, rhythm before mid-tempo.

Hey, it lifted MY moods. 'Nuff said.

Meanwhile during my music binge, like an idiot, I stumbled on what I thought was a copy of the new Primal Scream album in the used bins, and in my pre-dinner, low-blood-sugar haze, thought to myself "SCORE!", particularly because I haven't been able to find a copy of the new PS album that isn't a wildly overpriced import. Upon getting home, I realized this was in fact the Screams' 1997 "Echo Dek" album. Poop. I gave the mistakenly-bought album a listen all the same, and fortunately for my stupid ass, it's awfully good. I guess I'll keep it.

OH:

Thanks to the nice people who e-mailed me about the whole crappy week/parent-in-hospital situation. Though specifics are still shrouded in medical tests and muddled phone conversations, I have every reason to believe that everything's under control and just swell. Fortunately, my mother is surrounded with friends and co-workers who are looking after her and keeping me updated probably more than is necessary, but is all the same welcome. Talking with these people who I'd never met before but only heard mentioned by my mother in passing, I am reminded of what out-of-towners are talking about when they blather on about "midwest hospitality" and how kind people can be out here in flyoverland. Day-to-day life makes us hard and obnoxious, wherever we are, but when the grimey crust of banal superficial existence is stripped away to expose the far more ugent needs to survive and protect, it's amazing how pink and soft and gorgeous we can be to each other. Once I recoil and digest this past week's curveballs, I'll have to balance my karmic checkbook and make some payments.

Life can be wonderful.


2003-10-14 - Last Haiku
2003-10-09 - Don't Cry Out Loud
2003-10-09 - Sit Down, You're Making Me Nervous
2003-10-08 - I'm Sure Miss Thing, I'm Sure
2003-10-07 - Carbonated Water, Caramel Color, Aspartame

index
archives
profile
Uffish
Jonno
Kiera Bombshell
Wonderboy
Dogpoet
email
notes
design
host

chicago blogs