I fucking heart spending time with my computer aka the extension of my brain, but yesterday was one of those days where the plopping sound of an incoming email would make me choke. Sky wasn’t exactly clear, but not too soupy either, and the air felt quite summery. Also, Lion Rock’s just around my corner, so I decided to hop on bus # 72 to finally explore those mountainy regions in my close neighborhood for a bit. After a good 2 hours of hiking through the woods, my heart was racing like Jerry The Race Car Driver and I was dripping with Truck Sweat, so I was happy to finally reach the slopes of Golden Hill Rd to relax a bit, guzzle some water, enjoy the view and hang out with a bunch of wild monkeys.
There’s hundreds of them, just doing their monkey-type-thang; eating, sleeping, fucking, fighting, delousing each other, taking care of their families etc.
I was quite an eye-opener to observe those motherfuckers for a while. Makes me ponder about the universe, and, like, evolution and shit. Ya dig? There’s all kinds of different personalities in the monkey world. Some of them are shy, some of them are rowdy, some of them seem smart, some of them seem stupid, some of them are social, some of them are not. You’re not supposed to have eye-contact, as some of them feel provoked quite easily. Like these two.
I’ve had a proper adrenaline rush when one of the older boss-type dudes suddenly stood up in front of me while I was taking pictures of his fam, screeching with his gnarly-ass jaw wide open, looking into my eyes, stating he’s ready to rumble. Trust me, the last thing I thought of in that moment was to take a picture of the nominee. Especially because I was unarmed, unlike some of the hikers I ran across in that area, carrying man-sized woodblocks. I wonder what one is supposed to do? Just beat it like MJ? Run for your life? Are his clan-members going to interfere? I’m not too keen to find out.
Nuff monkey-bizness. I got enough of that shit for now. Chinese New Year is about to begin, shops and restaurants are closing for the holidays, summertime is back and I’m feeling jolly. Might need to turn on the aircon tonight.
Oh and btw, I’m kinda feeling this newish band from San Francisco by the illustrous name of oOoOO right here:
As one of the rather underrated producers of California’s Bay Area, Roche has been pumping out signature tunes under the Solos records umbrella for quite a while now. This one right here I am particularly in love with these days. You might have heard it before in my part of The Private Lives Vol 1.
Roche delivers the latest installment in Solos Records digital release series. Poised between two of the mighty legacies of Detroit, ‘Space Blue’ takes the Dilla touch to an extended, 3 Chairs style house meditation on rhythm modulation, making Gottsching cumulii showersynth shards.
Space Blue: the title is a hint, a certain cold outer space melancholy which perforates the warmth of a shifting upright bass sample that underpins the track. Cosmic jazz tones for mental therapy. Or, maybe it’s it’s the trace of blue light in a club that catches the trails of smoky wonderment wafting upwards.
The flipside to this stunning piece is a remix by CB Radio, who strips away the A-side’s gaseous atmospheres for a physical disco house flex’n'bump refix that’s suitable for riding the back alleys of the city of the future.
Direct mp3 links:
As you probably figured, I done did some bloggin’ about my very recent trips to Baltimore and NYC already, so let me rewind a bit to the past to continue right where I ended – September 11th at JFK airport!
Flighttime between NYC and SF is a proper 6 hours. I slept like a puppy on goatmilk and arrived in San Fran just in time for the most San Franciscan of all lunches
with ma homeboy Yao.
The Sucka Free is still somehow my dearest destination in the US (NYC don’t be mad, I kinda <3 u too), so I appreciated the freedom to spend some time there, before hopping on the next plane. SF vista from Twin Peaks, anyone?
The following glimpse shows a view of the infamous Bay Bridge, as seen from Pier 7, which used to be THE skateboarding spot back in the late 90s.
No more, unfortunately, since the city of San Francisco has a zero tolerance policy for shredding these days.
Kind of a sad move to ignore and trying to suspend an entire culture from a city that is still being referred to as the Mecca for that particular movement. I used to shred there myself a while ago, and had the wonderful opportunity to see an SFPD cop car from the inside. Here’s to the good ol’ days.
MP3 Download Extravaganza:
As you can see below, I’m dwelling in the US of A as of now. It’s mad foggy in San Francisco this morning. Now would you please excuse me, I got an early flight to NYC to catch. Hold tight for more bloggery from the the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Tonite I’ll be playing at Sutra with Enso & Egg Foo Young, so roll thru if you have the chance.
My fave Bay Area label SOLOS is back on the track with their first digital release:
In the mix are traces of garage, broken beat, and funky, but this is not reverent bass nostalgia: ‘African Rhythms’ pushes past fashion to wire a new set of rhythmic histories and spaces: the track sounds equally tuned to solitary late night rollage and body-dense warehouses.
The A side of this digital single is backed by two remixes: a 4×4 tuff melancholy Theo Parrish-style banger by Yao, and an ambient, abstracted daydream by Fat Transfer, whose disorienting EQ and filter work take the original even further out.
Hi-bitrate versions available on iTunes now.
Also check out: