Well if it isn't the first posting of 2012! Can I get a great big whoop de doo from all the money makers in the house and the peoples up back? Whoop de doo is one of the lesser known call and response shout outs in the hip hop world so I guess you should feel very privileged that I shared that with you. It would be nice to be able to say that the reason I haven't posted in a while is because I've been so fantastically busy, but now I'm going to sit down for a whileen and fill you in on all my adventures from the last few months. Sadly the truth is a lot more dismal and all that has gone down is a fuck load of faffing about.
Arsin' alone around Barcelona
Some of that faffing is noteworthy, as I turned thirty the first week in February and faffed around Barcelona for a week. The trickiest bit was swallowing the condoms filled with teabags before boarding the plane (strawberry flavoured were used for the occasion, and taste every bit as strawberryish as Mr. Freeze) and the second trickiest bit was trying to order Big Catalan Sausage without creasing myself laughing. As I don't keep a journal I can't give a blow by blow account of what went down over there, but it was along the lines of walked around, gawped at nice buildings, ate lots of nice pastry and meaty things, repeat to fade.
Bowl of Coiffusion (that's what the world is today)
Other faffery involves getting my hair cut, which happens less often than blog updates. I'm nearly up to two a year, and who knows some day I'll be one of those chaps who frequents a barber to get it tidied up every few weeks. Currently I let it grow and grow and grow until I can't see beyond a wall of hair. Then after a few weeks of that I decide that it might be time to get it chopped. Most of my teenage years were spent under the cover of unfortunate bowlcuts that even Shaun Ryder would have derided, either that or I'd try to get a normal haircut which the hairdresser would inevitably hear as "I would like a fringe akin to that of a mental patient, could you sort that out for me?" As a result I have an understandable fear of the barber. When they ask what would I like done, my ideal response would be "Does it really matter? Just do what you're gonna do and get it over with. I can always hide under a hoody for the foreseeable future." It was fairly painless this time, snip snip snip how's that? Could you take a bit more off please? Snip snip snip how's that? Could you stick a bit more on please?
Friday, March 23, 2012
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Nu micks
It's been a while since I put together a mix, quite a while. For several yonks I was bringing my laptop out to every gig, hitting record, and then the best hour or so would become a mix cd. Sadly (well it was more unfortunate than sad), a few months ago I was getting up off the couch (something that I never do unless it's very necessary, usually only to make more tea or have a pee) without realising that the power cord of my laptop was wrapped around my foot. As a result my aged powerbook hit the floor at the exact angle required to break one of the hinges. There are many things I like about apple products, but the main dislike is that when things go wrong, they go wrong in a big and or tedious way. The replacement part will cost about fifty quid, and it will only be slightly less complicated than advanced neuroscience to stick it in. In summary, to replace this one bit (which is also the most breakable part), I will have to take out everything else. This is not an exaggeration, a quick google search of "g4 powerbook titanium replace broken hinge crying blood nightmare" will give you an idea of the ordeal involved. Granted, it would probably take a full day to do it and be done, but I haven't worked up the nerve yet (either that or I really couldn't be arsed, take your pick).
So there's my tediously drawn out excuse as to why it's been a while since I've put out a mix cd. I suppose a tracklist wouldn't go astray?
01. Kumasi Walk - Ikebe Shakedown
02. Sneakin' In The Back - Tom Scott
03. Mr. Brown - African Music Machine
04. Four Play (Promo Edit) - Fred Wesley & The Horny Horns
05. La Valla - Bronx River Parkway
06. An Announcement To Answer - Quantic
07. Ease Jimi - Nightmares On Wax
08. Freedom Road - The Pharoahs
09. Eli's Pork Chop - Little Sonny
10. Gasoline Alley - Dave Grusin
11. Droge CX9 - Manfred Hubler & Siegfried Schwab
12. Dance - George Benson
13. Feed Me Good - Har You Percussion Group
Can be downloaded here, if you would like a copy on cd, leave a comment and I'll hook you up.
Wishing you a merry Christmas, and a happy new beard!
Over the last few months I've been feeling a beardy sort of broodiness. I'd see men with impressive facial hair and find myself sighing wistfully. Movember was the cruellest month, so I made a decision to hang up my razor once it was over. It's been well over a year since I undreaded my head and gave my face a jolly good shaving, and there has been a constant stream of questions relating to when I would regrow them, or could I at least bring the beard back? It's bizarre, but I imagine that if I were to retire from DJing, there would be less of a demand to get me back behind the decks, than there has been for me to regrow the beard.
For the inexperienced, it's worth noting that there is more to growing a beard than just not shaving. Getting through the itchies is a test of endurance that few men can tough out. It kicks in after a week and then lasts for about a week and this is when most so-called men tap out. If you know someone who usually looks unkempt and unshaven but has never had a proper beard this is why.
The other major stumbling block for me is what most Irish men are cursed with: The Ginger Beard. I understand that the G-word is no longer considered politically correct, but there's no point calling a spade a spud. Even though having dark hair, brown eyes and eyebrows means I'm not a true blue ginger, when my face furniture is in full effect I experience the slings and arrows of outrageous anti-gingerism.
And yet here I am, face itching likes it caught an std and growing ever more ginger by the hour. It will be all worth it in the end, won't yet? (Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that Señor Gingernuts)
Friday, December 19, 2008
The sinister suspicions of an Invigeridoo.
Oh dearie dearie,
The last two weeks involved some gainful employment on my part, doing a spot of invigilating at the NUI Galway Christmas exams. Though I didn't catch anyone cheating, I did get to be a hardass and confisticated* several calculator covers, two mobile phones and also made inappropriate advances towards the males I escorted to the toilets. All of that said, it's a flipping boring job, where the only challenge is to try and keep your head someway level. The only way I retained some degree of sanity was to walk up and down the aisles slowly and purposefully pretending that I was Darth Vader (or at other times the Parish priest in a 1950's Irish village, it didn't matter which so long as I could pretend that I was wearing a fearsome black cape "Ah, Father Vader, is it yourself that's in it")
One thing that did strike home was that lefthandeders catch your eye and appear more suspicious than the righteous folk. I found myself invigilating up and down the venue and thoughts would wander across my mind like "Hah, I've got my eye on you lefty, not on my watch you won't", or "Looks like we got ourselves a lefty here boys, y'know what we do with lefties round these parts?" My mistrust of their kind has grown to the point where I started developing conspiracy theories that maybe some of those wily lefties are purposefully using their right-hands so as not to draw unwanted attention to themselves and get away with cheating. To check this theory, I would get a seating plan and mark them on it so I could see numbers and distribution. As 7-10% of the population are lefthanded, if only 5 or 6% of a particular group of students were lefties then I knew something was up.
The next course of action would be to go around checking for uncomfortably gripped pens and especially poor handwriting amongst the righteous folk, as they might well be lefties in disguise, and if they'll stoop to pretending to be right handed, lord only knows what else they're up to. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to find a single one, which means of course that I'm not a crazy, suspicious, paranoid nutjob, but that those sneaky lefties are always two steps ahead.
*confistication is way more severe than mere confiscation, ask anyone who's had something of theirs confisticated and they'll tell you
Durty Grooves of the Poorest Quality
I recorded a follow up Durty Grooves mix, but as my styli are knackered, the grooves sound more durty than is humane. It's recordings like this that give vinyl a bad name. If you do download this, it's best listened to on big bassy speakers, where the bass will muffle over the excessive crackle and scraping. Fortunately I'll be in New York in ten days time, where they have an impressive needle exchange programme so I should be able to trade in these stantons of yesteryear for a new set of ortofons.
The last two weeks involved some gainful employment on my part, doing a spot of invigilating at the NUI Galway Christmas exams. Though I didn't catch anyone cheating, I did get to be a hardass and confisticated* several calculator covers, two mobile phones and also made inappropriate advances towards the males I escorted to the toilets. All of that said, it's a flipping boring job, where the only challenge is to try and keep your head someway level. The only way I retained some degree of sanity was to walk up and down the aisles slowly and purposefully pretending that I was Darth Vader (or at other times the Parish priest in a 1950's Irish village, it didn't matter which so long as I could pretend that I was wearing a fearsome black cape "Ah, Father Vader, is it yourself that's in it")
One thing that did strike home was that lefthandeders catch your eye and appear more suspicious than the righteous folk. I found myself invigilating up and down the venue and thoughts would wander across my mind like "Hah, I've got my eye on you lefty, not on my watch you won't", or "Looks like we got ourselves a lefty here boys, y'know what we do with lefties round these parts?" My mistrust of their kind has grown to the point where I started developing conspiracy theories that maybe some of those wily lefties are purposefully using their right-hands so as not to draw unwanted attention to themselves and get away with cheating. To check this theory, I would get a seating plan and mark them on it so I could see numbers and distribution. As 7-10% of the population are lefthanded, if only 5 or 6% of a particular group of students were lefties then I knew something was up.
The next course of action would be to go around checking for uncomfortably gripped pens and especially poor handwriting amongst the righteous folk, as they might well be lefties in disguise, and if they'll stoop to pretending to be right handed, lord only knows what else they're up to. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to find a single one, which means of course that I'm not a crazy, suspicious, paranoid nutjob, but that those sneaky lefties are always two steps ahead.
*confistication is way more severe than mere confiscation, ask anyone who's had something of theirs confisticated and they'll tell you
Durty Grooves of the Poorest Quality
I recorded a follow up Durty Grooves mix, but as my styli are knackered, the grooves sound more durty than is humane. It's recordings like this that give vinyl a bad name. If you do download this, it's best listened to on big bassy speakers, where the bass will muffle over the excessive crackle and scraping. Fortunately I'll be in New York in ten days time, where they have an impressive needle exchange programme so I should be able to trade in these stantons of yesteryear for a new set of ortofons.
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