Hi all. I've moved house. I wanted somewhere a bit more adaptable for music AND photos AND writing. The new site is at www.themilkybarkid.net
Come and visit some time.
Come and visit some time.
You see that little fleck of colour on the end of the big toenail? That's the last of the lurid pink toenail paint I had on for Burning Man 2010. This mix is in memoriam for its passing. It's a fitting tribute.
If you're still here, then many thanks for waiting. My blog, like a small and sleepy hedgehog, seems to have been hibernating for a few months. It crawled into a pile of dry brown leaves and snuffled itself to sleep.
Sheesh! Not only have I not posted for a bloody age, but I'm about to sod off without doing what I intended. I've been meaning (and trying) to make a new mix for about a month. But somehow it hasn't gelled. The mojo has gone AWOL.
Here's some music for urban heat. London's wonderful current spell of sizzle demands only one course of action.... move the boom box out onto the front step, grab a frosty bottle from the fridge, and sit enjoying summer pass by. These are tunes that just wouldn't feel right in the countryside. They need blaring car horns, yellow streetlights, and mile after mile of concrete to sound as they were meant to.
Sometimes when a musician is on a winning streak you've got to assume there's some sort of supernatural shit going on. In the 1920s the blues guitarist Robert Johnson was rumoured to have sold his soul to the devil at a crossroads in return for his fiendish talent. I suspect Tensnake might have made some similar Faustian pact.
This was the last mix I ever did on vinyl. I think that was about 8 years ago now. I guess it's fitting that the content is nostalgic in nature too. All killer. No filler. Classic house music.
Government agencies are always trying to come up with ways to keep us off the smack. They print leaflets, commission celebrities, send earnest young proselytizers into schools... It don't do shit. People are still getting high.
Bonobo's new single Eyesdown, is a classy package that manages to sound both timeless and bang up to date.
I have a lot of time for Shari & Vari, the two ladies behind the awesome The Number 20 blog. Here's why:
I shouldn't be farting around with this. I should be packing. My plane for India leaves in a few hours and I've still got packets of wet wipes and hand sanitizer strewn all over my room. But I haven't done a mix for a while and wanted to lay down some of the music I've been enjoying recently. They'll hold the plane for me, right?
When it comes to inventions, it's generally agreed that the wheel was a pretty good one. As such, any attempt to reinvent it has usually gone down badly. Unnecessary, is the usual criticism. Don't bother.
Is it Sunday yet? Because this is a mix on the prowl for a lazy Sunday afternoon. In fact, it's basically cooking you eggs and bacon, tucking your favourite newspaper into your hands, and phoning your mates to see who's up for the pub later. That's how much this mix has its Sunday shit locked down....an ex-monkee rapping, a weird erotic christmas song by georgie fame, the 70s 'super-studio-group' the attitudes, who played on thousands of records, Ned Doheny, Alessi Brothers, Rupert Holmes, Sanford & Townsend Band, Valerie Cartere, Paul Davis and commercial breaks by frank zappa, jefferson airplane, spliff (the nina hagen band), plus lots more other forgotten diamonds. enjoy and take the trip.It slips down real smooth and nice. Like a chilled Mimosa. Thanks Marcus.
Well that's a big fat phew! I was starting to get a bit sulky and petulant about my next post. Sometimes I go for a what seems like a worryingly long time without hearing anything to get really excited about. One starts to doubt one's faith... start cruising for other highs... contemplate foraging in bins. But then, WHAMMO! It all comes good. Cometh the hour, cometh these chaps.
To welcome in the new year, here's the opposite of snow. Don't get me wrong, I like snow. It's nice seeing London all covered in white, and there's much satisfaction to be had in the journalistic creativity put into such unexpected headlines as 'Snow Causes Travel Chaos'. But these are small pleasures.
So do you have a nice log fire ready? Are you wearing your advanced Norwegian knitwear? Well get cracking, people, because the Cold Comforts Mix Pt 2 is a toasty treat.
I've been rained on cycling about seven times in the last week. And I don't mean 'ooh, isn't that refreshing' rain. I mean 'tadpoles could flourish in my y-fronts' rain. I read some smugly optimistic tripe in a colour supplement once claiming if you cycled every day of the year, on average you'd only get wet eleven times. That journalist had better be calling in some serious prayers for a drought in 2010, or I'm going to be paying a soggy visit.
It's weird I haven't been into Fleetwood Mac longer than I actually have. I've always been a sucker for that place where polished 70s rock meets pop. But my almost fevered current obsession has only really been burning for a couple of years or so. I think the catalyst was my friend Dom telling me he'd never copied Rumours to his iPod, because the only situation worthy of being blessed by the great album was after a night out, drunk, lying on the sofa. Since my addiction has blossomed I've never been able to practice such self restraint.
Oh my. This one's a monster. From the happy clappy gospel disco of the Joubert Singers to the stomping, goth disco of Krikor & the Dead Hillbillies. Yin and Yang, shall we say.
By the way, if you fancy a wangdoodle of a boogie this Halloween, come to this little hoedown.