Email musicismyantiblog at y a h o o dot c o m with your (physical) address if you want on the (physical) mailing list for the new project that will be taking place in the real world.  It is free, as is the mix CD that will accompany it each month.  Interested contributors (mixes, words, reviews, pictures, whatever) should also email.  All computer involvement ends there.  Zine stylee IRL for 2010 and beyond, here comes the Antiblog.  Fuck technology for technology’s sake, fuck the internet and fuck the virtual existence you are being sold.

We can each be our own pocket of resistance.  If enough pockets form, collapse is guaranteed.

Seriously, buy this record. If you don’t like it, hit me up and I will buy it from you so I can have a spare copy for when I wear this one out.

LXC turns in a nice head-nodder using only a few snippets of the vocal, tons of delay and some serious BASS*. I see this version mixing well with some of the more frantic amen workouts in your crate and, on it’s own, taking the energy down a notch while still nailing people to the floor.

*Serious bass from a 7″? Believe it. This is mastered as loud as any 33 cut 12″ you’d care to put it up against.

Furthur 2001, Drop Bass Network, strange rituals, rain, shadows, geodesic dome, ingestion, Addict tent, what the fuck.  A three day party in a cornfield with thousands of people in attendance, no rules and every type of electronic music you care to mention.  I remember, among other things, that it was sunny and warm and the sky was somehow different.  I’ve looked up countless times since then and it’s never been quite the same.  I don’t know why and I don’t have the words to explain exactly what was different about it.  A picture I found may shed some light, or it may not:

I find it really strange to see a scan of an actual picture, as opposed to a crystal clear digital picture, but I think it captures more of the truth.  Just look at that picture and place yourself there.  Imagine that, while it was already well established, the internet was not tied to everything you did in one way or another.  Imagine that you weren’t texting all of your friends and instantly sending them crystal clear digital pictures.  Hell, you probably didn’t even have a cell phone.  Imagine this mass of people congregating and talking freely, moving from camp to camp and imagine a police force even thinking about trying to break this up even if they did know about it.  Not happening, so they’d probably cut their losses and tell these kids to be safe and not cause them any trouble.  Maybe, maybe not, but this was the TAZ in full effect and it kind of had a momentum of its own.  Imagine night time, watching a DJ play records inside a tent full of people.  Imagine hearing a track that made you dance uncontrollably and thinking, “God damn, I need to find out what this is and where I can get it.”  Imagine that, instead of pulling out your laptop and tapping into an omnipresent and omniscient  Wifi connection to find out, you asked a few people around you if they knew.  And if none of them did, imagine that you spent the next several days/weeks/months/years after the party rummaging through record bins, just hoping that you might find it one day.  And if you finally did find it, imagine the endorphin rush you would feel and the smile that would break out across your face and imagine the other people in that record store watching you and understanding exactly what had just happened.

So what does all of this have to do with me writing a blog in the year 2009?  For me, what you’ve just read symbolizes all of the changes the past decade has thrown on our doorstep.  I see many things in terms of music, but I really think that just about every aspect of our lives has changed in much the same way.  We’ve cheapened it.  We’ve settled.  And it’s not just the internet I’m talking about, it’s everything.  Your television has gotten more compact, just like the soundbites it pushes at you.  For the vast majority of people, the lowest common denominator has become lower and lower.  Our interactions with each other have changed.  Nobody really cares anymore because it’s not fashionable to care too much.  Money has always run things, but it’s becoming increasingly more important to everyone, it seems.

A talking head tells us that there’s trouble and we panic just like we’re supposed to.  Billions in imaginary currency is given to the corporations who already own everything because we’re told that they really need it.  The numbers pile up until they no longer make sense, can no longer be rationalized.  People run to the nearest thing they can find to distract them because they can no longer keep the pieces of this puzzle straight in their head.  Mass opiates abound and if you can’t find a metaphorical one, run to your doctor and he can give you something a little more tangible to numb you out.  All of this is updated, analyzed and forgotten in real time.

Youth are corrupted and trained from the day they are born and parents are too busy keeping their heads above water to notice, or care.  All that matters is getting people to pay attention to you and when they do, when they’re finally seeing you for the first time, you’ve forgotten what you wanted to tell them.  So you feel stupid and do something, anything to try to entertain them so they will accept you.  No turning back now.  So you make a sex tape, you get on Youtube and make an ass out of yourself, you sing some meaningless words that somebody else wrote for you.  It’s ok, it’s only a distraction so you can make your exit, and they’ll forget about it as soon as the next spectacle comes along.  And by then, maybe you’ll think of the next scam.  Or if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll just fade away into obscurity.

We can look for boogeymen, but we’ve done this to ourselves.  The only question is, what can we possibly do about it?  Where can we start?

Can we simplify this somehow?  Can we get back to whatever place each of us deems as “better?”  Starting today, I’m walking my ass back to that field and this is the year that I’ll finally see the sky that way again.  There is still the possibility for life to be real, we just have to be ready to accept it, good times and bad times together.  Let’s simplify, let’s make giving a damn fashionable again, let’s all find something that matters to us and go for it.  Fuck apathy, fuck distractions, fuck your credit score, fuck wanting to die, fuck politicians, fuck reality TV, fuck TV in general, fuck shameless self promotion, fuck taking the easy way out, fuck the spectacle.

And after all this, we get down to a resolution, only this year maybe it will stick.  I will put out a mixtape, just like the ones I used to buy, I will make a record, I will read more books, my blog will become a zine, I will seek out like minded people and (social awkwardness be damned) I will try to make meaningful connections with them.  I’ll give the people I care about more of my time, I will not turn a blind eye when I see injustice, I will do as many things as I can the old fashioned way.  I will try to build a better me and help you build a better you.  Life’s a party, and god damn it, we’re gonna dance.

p.s. – You’ll need to enter the code from the Dswat frontpage during checkout to get the discount.

p.p.s. – Will be back to updating the Mix Of The Day and adding lots more reviews after the holidays.

There are way too many good tracks on here to do a play by play, but just know that this album is the doggie’s hangers. Amazingly, I can’t really find a track on here that I can say I don’t like, no joke. For the most part, everything on here is very mixable and on a fun, happy vibe. Favorite tracks? ‘Get Slick Like Hardcore Shit’ for it’s “All ya other DJ’s all a buncha jerks” sample fuckery. ‘MDMA’ for being possibly the best intro piece ever for a rave set, basically a ditzy girl describing her first MDMA experience with various delays and pitching effects over it. But the best track on here has got to be ‘Break Of Dawning.’ It starts with piano and the standard amens and then in comes a guitar sample that instantly reminded me of the one in Aaron Spectre’s ‘You Don’t Know.’ Then a female vocal saying something about “I’m shakin my ass till the early mornin” drops into the mix and is pitched up gradually, really driving things to a peak. All of the elements just work together perfectly and make up a track that could be weaved in and out to drive a dancefloor crazy. A real 4am kind of track.

So if you’re a fan of Istari’s past material, you’ll like this. Just think of it as the crown jewel in his catalog. And if his stuff is foreign to you but you like fun, ravey music, start here and work your way back. To put it simply, just run out and buy it!

I picked up my copy from Anthem Records in the U.S., but I’m not sure if they have any more.  If not, you can purchase from the label or over at Praxis.

On this yellow 7″ you get one track more on the ragga side and one that is ravecore to the bone. “Sodomize A Rasta” is the faster of the two and utilizes hoovers, insanely chopped breaks and some of the same samples used in his “Punisher” track last year. But there is also some seriousness in it, as he drops a sample addressing the homophobic language and attitudes that pervade Jamaican dancehall culture and, by extension, much of the ragga jungle that samples from it. “Your Time Is Up” is centered around a great pitched up female vocal but also utilizes acidic elements and a piano line. A little less frantic and chopped, this is the more dancefloor friendly of the two tracks. The A-side is like a hammer to the face and the B-side more like a rubber mallet.

This is fast becoming one of my favorite FFF records, and that’s saying quite a bit when you look at his extensive back catalogue. These tracks are a little more out there than, say, his Planet Mu record and that suits me just fine. If you want ravecore that isn’t the butt of it’s own joke, track this one down.

“Dubcore Vol. 7″ doesn’t seem to have made it to U.S. shores, unfortunately, but you can head on over to the label’s online store and order it there.

Realicide is known, first and foremost, as a live act.  But the translation of their music to a DJ friendly format is actually very well done here.  The sound quality is good, with the gabber kicks hitting nice and hard, and the tracks have been restructured in a way that makes sense for us DJ types and casual listeners alike.  On a basic level, this is pounding, bass laden mid-tempo gabber that will whip the right crowd into a moshing, fist pumping frenzy.  But, perhaps more importantly, the message here is an extremely positive one about not following trends, not sitting passively by, and about actually living life instead of simply watching others do it.  That’s what I take from it anyway, and I think it’s really god damn refreshing to have a record cross my turntable that actually makes me think.

Realicide is a multifaceted venture, and I’d highly recommend checking out their website if you’re looking for some good reading material or more info on what they’re about.

“The Choice Is Yours EP” can be purchased in the U.S. at Wrecked, directly from the label, or at a Realicide show near you.  Overseas, I expect it will pop up at Praxis.

The verdict? Definitely not essential and, to me, a real letdown after the first Nekrolog1k release, which was significantly better.