Sunday, September 17, 2017

415

My mom is in town so I took her to a party at NYU's Skirball called "Aunts Is Dance", a free event, with several dance performances and a Free Boutique. The idea of the Free Boutique is that you bring something to the party to give away, and in return you shop among the other things people have contributed. It's a great idea. I forgot to bring something to add to the boutique, so I ran around SoHo until I came across the Magic shop, went in and bought several 7 sided magic dice and a pack of Magic cards to add to the mix.
On the way back to the theater I stopped to get a coffee. The barista had her back to me as I approached the counter. Then she spun around in a dramatic manner, put her chin on her hand and said, "What can I do for you, fine sir?" I said, "Wow, that's the best greeting by a barista I've ever gotten." She said, "I do what I can. I'm a professional." As a tip I gave her one of the 7-sided dice I bought. She said, "I always wanted one of these! Can I give you a hug?" Sure, so she came around the corner and gave me a big hug. "Sugar for my coffee," I said. Then the other barista, watching the whole thing, came out and gave me a card for a free coffee. Score.
I went back to the Free Boutique and picked out a gift for Gen and the girls, then we went into the space.
The first dance performance we saw was a naked woman in a superman flying position across the bottom rungs of a ladder. It was such an elegantly beautiful arrangement that it took a moment to take in the piece's implications. She continued to work her way around the ladder and strike poses in a sculptural and evocative way.
There were several other performances in this vein around the lobby and basement of the theater, but you couldn't go into the main theater itself. On the walls were monitors showing the performance inside the theater, a lone woman dancing on the stage, to an empty audience. We were all watching her from the lobby.
After the performances DJ br0nz3 g0dd3ss came out and everyone danced, we were inspired.
IFC was around the corner so afterward we went to see a movie, "Columbus," a film about architecture and family relationships, among other things, set in in Columbus, Indiana. It was so good that it made me fall in love with cinema all over again, the way great cinema can make you fall in love with life. There was just one sublime moment after another. Definitely see it on the big screen if you get a chance.
Finally we wrapped the night up by sharing a midnight Ramen and Sapporo at a local joint. My mom had never had Ramen before. She loved it.
A great NYC date night with mom.

Friday, September 8, 2017

413

Fall class playlist. On bike then off. Called "fall class" on Spotify. Hot.

Monday, July 31, 2017

Thursday, June 29, 2017

409


Beautiful dance this morning. Soooooooogoooooood. Haven't been out forever. Like coming out of a cave. And haven't danced like this for so long either, almost forgot I could. Caravan Palace Playlist on Spotify and suddenly I WAS Fred Astaire, on air, easy, now Gene Kelly swinging around a light pole, using whatever props on the street popped up as they scrolled by. When I passed someone I would feel myself withdraw a little, like a turtle, but then I self-corrected by pretending like everybody I passed was Ginger Rogers, the perfect dance partner, if only they knew it, and I was back in the flow.  


Treasure of the morning: Overnight some Frenchie made all of the Rite Aid parking spots for Parisiens only, using chalk. Fantastique.



408



Went to Socrates Park for a festival. Genevieve and I surprised ourselves by playing frisbee for a long time. At one point the giant speakers started playing Bob Marley's Exodus and I was dancing in heaven, catching and throwing the disc in the flow of the music, the girls running free.

Friday, June 16, 2017

407



Started the day out medition into work out into tennis. The Tennis was epic. Spawned this poem:


The Tennis Court Oaf

Today on the court he went from clumsy gat
to cross-court acrobat in one quick set

How? He put all of his breath into it
He put everything he had into every shot

He was trying to balance everything with nothing

It means everything as it is happening
and nothing when its over

Those lines either
bear repeating often

or saying never

Love Love

Ever,

Adam



I felt more than once on the court that I was in my body like a dancer. More of that please!

Then tonight, one of those magic dances with the girls to Kidz Bop Kidz classics. Uptown Funk gonna give it to you. A ways off from Funkadelic, but highly danceable nonetheless. We followed each other's moves. Sofia had some pretty impressive floor moves. Kept me off my toes. 

Friday, April 28, 2017

406



I'm walking in the cemetery Calvary Cemetery, trying to dance, it's been a while, right when I enter in a lady in a hatchback an old Russian woman pulls up next to me and tells me not to listen to my headphones, because it will hurt my ears, I said thank you I will keep it down, she said, no, even then, not a good idea to jog with headphones on. I said thank you. She drove next to me for a while and watched me and then slowly moved ahead, but very slowly watching me in her rear view for about five minutes. Then bothered by my own commentary on a friend's poem on Facebook I stopped to change it, and realize the more I try to change my comment the deeper I'm digging myself. then I see a sculpture, relief, inside try to dance again but I stop when I see a relief on a gravestone, it's the likeness of a young girl who died at seven years old in 1939, and I see all of the pain of the father there, it is too much to bear, just then I get a text from Quinn saying I thought you might like to listen to this, it's a DJ set from WFMU. The first song is an exhortation to check your mind, over and over again, check your mind, I am checking my mind and it is not as sound as usual, and so I am leaving the cemetery, I am walking away and suddenly there is a loud terrifying sound behind me, a horn, I turn around and it is a cart full of cemetery workers, and there was no reason to honk, they could have easily driven around me, it was just a form of violence. Check your mind!













Thursday, April 27, 2017

405






http://www.rollingstone.com/music/features/chuck-berry-inside-father-of-rocks-triumphs-scandals-w475260



Tuesday, April 25, 2017

404

This morning I put Hot Chip's "Coming On Strong" onto the record player. Then I used it as a background to sing over, mostly with Sofia's stories of persuasion. It was a kind of spontaneous art.  I was being an artist.Then I listened back to the entire album with my vocals over the top and danced to it. I was dancing to my own art. 


   leaen arto!

   note in this persuasive letter Sofia is thinking of her friend and winter, then imagining it is summer and she is playing on the beach with her friend, which all leads to a beautiful interpretatio of the sun.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

403

5 AM. 

I dreamed last night that Third Man Records had invited me and some other poets to read after a Jack White Concert in an old Masonic theater. It's a big deal so all of my family is coming, including Great Grandma Betty who has made a special trip. 

Jack starts playing early so I scramble for a seat. I sit high up on the left side of the theater, nearly in the rafters, next to a blond bearded dad and his 3 kids. We chat and become quick friends. I see my grandmother being wheeled in on the other side of the room by my mom and uncle. I wonder what she thinks of Jack's guitar playing?

My new friend points out to me the sayings written on the walls of the theater. They are theories of life written by children. I read a few, nod, and tell him that I have been formulating my own theory. "There needs to be a new name for love," I tell him. "It's confusing because love is the name of two opposite things. You love what you are attracted to, which is really a kind of selfishness, but you are called to love the unattractive, that's real love."  My friend whispered back, "Or you can just be present with whomever you are with." "Yes," I said, "clarity. That's another way of looking at it." 

Just then a song ended and a Jester dressed for Carnevale made his way through the crowd. All eyes were on him. To our surprise he made it all the way back to our seats. Two tailors followed him and they took out tape measures and began to size up the feet of my blond bearded friend and me. Jack announced from stage that we had been chosen by raffle to be fitted for new handmade Italian socks. Wow, I thought, that's perfect, since I recently bought a turquoise blue Giudi Italian wallet on my ten year wedding anniversary trip in San Gimniano. And I still have the white Armani tie I bought for the wedding too. I guess I am well on my way to owning an entire Italian suit, I thought. Wach piece will have its own story.

That's when I woke up. 

My first thought upon waking was that I should send my dance journal to Third Man Records.

And of course the music for today's dance had to be to The White Stripes.

   The graffiti a block from my house, on Barnett. A hidden Queens' treasure.

   Barnett graffiti. 

   Kind of pretentious title for an album, but I like the ambition


Thursday, April 20, 2017

402



If Knausgaard can do 5 pages a day, I can do 1.

All morning long I have been listening to the end of Karl Ove Knausgaard's “Man In Love.”

He writes five pages a day. How can I keep up with that shit? I can't even keep up with my own mind. Knausgard is living it, living literature. Not by trying to, but by writing about it and giving it that second extra layer, outside looking in. So yeah, Knausgaard. And it’s a great book. Man In Love. Stand alone great. The best account I know of of the vast difference between falling in love and staying in love. I mean from feeling it to not feeling it to learning to feel it in a deeper way. All the way to the end. Shit, Knausgaard. He really did it. Brought artifice to his life and vice versa. That book is a mother. I mean, the first one, about his childhood and the death of his father was good. It was good enough that it felt like my own memory by the end. And it also presages memories to come (of my dad dying.) And then there is a third layer, as it spins back out to history, and with Knausgaard''s idiosyncratic takes on art.

This is long winded. I’m not sure I have that much wind left.

So, this. I'm a few minutes into "War Dogs." Black screen with the words in white, "All the money is made between the lines" and the opening notes of the guitar riff to Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear The Reaper" begins. Fills the air of the movie and of this room, simultaneously. Brings back 6th grade. The skating rink. And then, in a whole new way a few years ago, 2015 when I was following the new daily Banksy piece as part of his October residency.

(This writing is going to keep me alive. This and dancing. 1001 stories. Spare me, merciful King!) I’m going a little crazy. My head and arm are going numb. I’m not thinking quite as clearly as usual.

Still writing though, so… yeah, Banksy did this piece on Halloween in Soho, a giant grim reaper riding a bumper car around in a fenced cage in Lower East Side, with flashing lights and mayhem as “Don’t Fear The Reaper” blared on giant speakers. I stood against the fence in the cold with a dozen others and watched the little electric bumper car go around and around, the reaper flailing like a madman. I thought about the song, about death, about fear. I think I cried. Yes, I cried. It was on halloween!

Time to dance. Chuck Berry’s "Blues" album. All day. Feeling better.

Nada Gordon says on Facebook that she doesn’t go to poems for comfort or wisdom. It’s brave in a way. But bring me both.

Weirdness, ideas, words, electric vibrosis.

Chuck Berry all dayalong.

Sudden weird sense of self as weird version of Jason Segal’s weird version of David Foster Wallace in biopic as he is dancing in church basement.

“I want don’t you to work all day. I don’t want you to be my slave.
I don’t want you because I’m sad and blue. I just wanna make love to you...”

Chuck Berry just about sums it up.

Basic reasoning behind, "Money can't buy you love." Basic problem of the world.

Abrupt tone change. Weltanschauung shift.

Now Segal is making love to his Apatow buddy Jonah Hill. Because Jonah’s in War Dogs which started this whole rant. Fat awesome Jonah. That's the circular thought that brings me back around to the film. And to that brilliant piece of music by Blue Oyster Cult.

The black fades to a bald kid with a guitar, playing the song. He begins to sing, “All our times are done/ Here but now they're gone” The camera does a 180 and we see the audience, All ancient old people scowling. The kid is performing his twee version of “Don’t Fear the Reaper” at an elderly home.

Poor kid, the owner’s nephew it turns out, is now milk toast. Terrible song choice for a nursing home, but great choice for the movie, the way it conflates the awesome and pathetic. I’m already there.

It’s a poignant mise en scene joke. A perfect commentary and set up for the following scene. Sums up why the movie is good.

More dancing. Got all the way there with Berry’s “All Aboard.” So glad I got to hear that song before I die. Before other planets discover it (via space probe.)

Berry knew he was competing with Beethoven, but there’s no comparison. What 16 year old would rather listen to mad king Ludwig "go go go?" Teenagers are here to stay.

Ah jeez. Maybe I’ll put on Beethoven next.  Yes, the piano sonatas. Roll over, Chuck Berry.  

But first let’s listen to Chuck Berry one more time. While we pick up the house
And turn it around.

I like the way Keith Richards puts it... “out in the woods, where the Chuck Berries grow.”

Berry is number 27, as he says in his final interview, "and Muddy Waters was number 26." By that rubric
The Beatles, Stones, Dylan, Hendrix are all number 28.

None of them could pop that weird voodoo rock and roll swing note like he could though. Maybe Hendrix.

Back to the old folks home. It’s the kid, trying to make money off selling high thread count egyptian sheets. But lizard skin doesn’t need to be wrapped in cashmere. So he has to find something sexier: Enter fat awesome Jonah Hill and gun running.

Skip the rest of the movie.

Friday, March 31, 2017

398


Oh man, such a pleasure to go through these treasures. So many good riffs and lines. A time and a place captured and kept fresh. 

Dance score: 8.3 (note, score only partially due to strength of album. Other factors, like coffee and MJ strength, attitude, etc, play in. But the album does more of the work than anything else.)

These lyrics cracked me up. Hits close to home though. Young punk calling me out. (But I have hundreds of dances still to go. And you're dead. So there! Love you though.)

Too Pooped to Pop

Casey is an old man who wants to be a teen
He goes to all the dances and they call him cha-cha King
He cha-cha's when the band is playin' rock and roll
He tries to keep in time but the beat leaves him cold
Because he's too pooped to pop, too old a soul
Hips gettin' weaker when he tries to do this stroll
And every time his feet get to go in one way
Here comes a new dance and it's goin' to stray
Chicks told Casey, you better move man
This is only a one night stand
Casey wasn't in time but he was dancin' awhile
Till a cramp caught his leg and he had to change his style
Because he's too pooped to pop, too old a soul
Hips gettin' weaker when he tries to do this stroll
And every time his feet get to go in one way
Here comes a new dance and it's goin' to stray
Casey finally learned to do the hoochie koo
This might have been fine back in '22
Now, I'm gonna give you fellows just a little tip
If you wanna keep your girl you better get hip
Or, you'll be too pooped to pop, too old a soul
You hips are gettin' weaker when you'll try to do the stroll
And every time your feet gettin' to go in one way
Here comes a new dance you'll be left to stray

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

397


It's 1959 now. Waited 2 years for this one to come out. (I'm imagining this.) But I've bought most of the singles. I love the cover. It is is one of the most delicious covers I've ever seen.

So many classic songs, even more than on the last two albums. Worth the wait. 

But I'm hurting. The woman I love needs more from me. So I sacrifice side two and clean house. Actually what I do is try to bring the music into the chores. I try to dance the chores. This is part of my goal of carrying the dance forward into the rest of the day. Let it shake through me like Berry's guitar, like Johnnie Johnson's piano. 

And one song leads me to it. One set of lyrics.

That's the other thing about listening to a record every morning. The lyrics so often lead you to where you need to be, like the voice of God. You find it in the lyrics.

This one from Queenie.

Meanwhile I was still thinking
If it's a slow one, we'll omit it
If it's a rocker, we'll get it
And if it's good, she'll admit it
C'mon Queenie, let's get with it

If it's good she'll admit it.
'
Time to clean the house. 

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

396


An album on a phone. Better than no album. Much better. But I'm fantasizing this was the original vinyl. That it is 1957 and this just came out. Just a few month's after After School Sessions. And I've already bought a few of the singles. Half the album I already know. But this is a Long Player. A full dance session. 45 minutes of raw guitar driven bliss. Even the throwaway moments are good. Jokes, attitude, freedom. Little 2 minute jolts of creative energy and verve propelling through my body. Johnnie Johnson's piano ringing through my arms and wiggling in my fingers, Berry's guitar making me duck walk.




Monday, March 27, 2017

395

So, a new series, already started really, but in full effect now. Using vinyl LP (Long Player) format to frame a daily dance. A new album every damn day. (with occasional DJ sets for inspiration.)

Today I was inspired by a New Yorker article on Chuck Berry to go back and listen to his discography. I listened to the first full record from 1957, After School Session.

What a greatg title. There's a sexual connatation to "session", and a musical one too. Now that school is over, let's party. But another connatation takes hold as the record goes on and you realize that the songs form a kind of moral narrative, and this is music that comes after learning your lessons.

The album announces its intention off the bat with School Days. It opens with 12 staccato strokes of a guitar that immitates a school bell and then, "Up in the morning and out to school" and off we go. I'm not sure if I've ever heard a more promising opening to an album.

The song propels you through a school day, learning the Golden Rule, history, etc, working hard, and then, with steam from all that hard work building up (in the music) you are finally released to dance with the one you love. And then there it is, the last lines of that great first song on the first Chuck Berry record, hailing the new great freedom of rock and roll, "Hail, hail rock and roll. Deliver us from days of old" (Days of old? This could merely mean school, but it also hints at "history," i.e. slavery and oppression: the two become conflated in this line.) Then there's a plea, a prayer for a long life to this newfound freedom: "Long live Rock and Roll". This is a freedom that hearkens back to African drums and sex: "The beat of the drums, loud and bold/ Rock, rock rock and roll. The feeling is there, body and soul." And there it is, the secret; the body and soul (traditionally seen in opposition to one another) united in freedom, the great unleashing of absolute freedom that lead to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and everything in between. It's revolutionary stuff and built of pure steam that needs somewhere to go and finds its outlet, miraculously, in music and dancing.

And that's leads to the next track, "Deep Feeling." And that's what it is too, just instrumental bliss, a twangy guitar heading into outerspace, a cosmic dance with Johnnie Johnson who asserts himself into the mix.

Then right back into the jittery swing of rock of roll with "Too Much Monkey Business." You could probably site Chuck Berry as a precursor of hip hop as well, because he frequently raps the verses, funny and brilliant lines that start fast and then uses double time and spring rhythm to propel the verses forward, (Gerard Manly Hopkins meets Lightning Hopkins meets hip hop.)

I just looked up the lyrics online to help me follow them. One verse is listed as, "Take home, something wrong, dime gone, will hold/ order suit, hoppered up for telling me a tale, ahh! Too much monkey business..." I was like what? So I listened to the song again and, though it is hard to parse, it is actually, "Pay phone, something wrong, dime gone, will mail/ Oughta sue, operator telling me a tale, ahh!" Wow, Metro Lyrics really got it wrong. just shows how hard it is to follow lyrics like this. But it also shows the roots of Berry's famous paranoia about getting screwed out of his dime. (And he did like to sue for his dime. Years later he would sue The Beach Boys for ripping off his music.) In this capitalistic society even the phone company is trying to screw you. And also, in song order; your job at the mill, salesmen, blonds, the phone company, the army, and then your next job at the gas station. This is basically a protest song. You dance off your frustrations.

Then come the real frustrations, love sickness, in "The Wee Wee Hours," a 12 bar blues that works because of the bleeding piano of Johnie Johnson. The middle section where Berry's crying guitar and Johnson's piano snake around each other is cathartic.

Soon comes a car song, of course, because you are motoring now! You are burning up the dance floor and fast cars come in tandom with rock and roll. The sarcastic title of the song is "No Money Down," and it's a masterpiece of wish fulfillment, how a wry commentary on how desire is exploited by those insidious monkey business salesmen. But check out these great lyrics,

 "Well Mister I want a yellow convertible
Four-door de Ville
With a Continental spare
And a wide chrome wheel
I want power steering
And power brakes
I want a powerful motor
With a jet off-take
I want air condition
I want automatic heat
And I want a full Murphy bed
In my back seat
I want short-wave radio
I want TV and a phone
You know I gotta talk to my baby
When I'm ridin' alone"

Yes I'm gonna get that car
And I'm gonna head on down the road
Yeah, then I won't have to worry
About that broken-down, raggedy Ford

"I want four carburetors
And two straight exhausts
I'm burnin' aviation fuel
No matter what the cost
I want railroad air horns
And a military spark
And I want a five-year guarantee
On everything I got
I want ten-dollar deductible
I want twenty dollar notes
I want thirty thousand liability"
That's all she wrote


Downbound Train is another morality tale that fits the form of its music. The music is the train, and if you chug-a-long too fast in booze and rock and roll you will find yourself in hell. It's a fun ride while it lasts, but eventually the stranger learns his lesson and never gets on that train again. Until the next record anyway.

The final song is Drifting Heart. When I'm dancing to a ballad, I pretend like there is someone there dancing with me. How lame does that sound? But it's wonderful nonetheless.

A great dance record. It was a privilege. Thanks for the music, Chuck!


This original rambling was all pared down to a more essential take on a FB post. Here's the cleaned up version:

Today I was inspired by a New Yorker article on Chuck Berry to go back and listen to his discography. I listened to the first full record from 1957, After School Session. What a great title. Now that school is over, let's party. But another connotation takes hold as the record goes on and you realize that the songs also form a kind of moral narrative. The album announces its intention off the bat with "School Days." It opens with 12 staccato strokes of a guitar that immitates a school bell and then, "Up in the morning and out to school," and off we go. I'm not sure if I've ever heard a more promising opening to an album. The song propels you through a school day, learning the Golden Rule, history, etc, and then, with the steam from all that hard work building up (in the music) you are finally released to dance with the one you love. And then there it is, the last lines of that great first song on the first Chuck Berry record, hailing the new-found freedom of rock and roll, "Hail, hail rock and roll," leading to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and everything in between, a revolution built out of frustrated energy finding its outlet in music and dance.

And that leads to the next track, "Deep Feeling." That's what it is too, just instrumental bliss, a twangy guitar heading into outerspace, a cosmic dance with Berry's genius piano player Johnnie Johnson who asserts himself into the mix.

Then right back into the jittery swing of rock of roll with "Too Much Monkey Business." You could site Chuck Berry as a precursor of hip hop as well since he frequently raps the verses, funny and brilliant lines that start fast and then use double time and spring rhythm to propel the verses forward, (Gerard Manly Hopkins meets Lightning Hopkins meets hip hop.) In order, his job at the mill is trying to screw him, then salesmen, blonds, the phone company, the army, and finally his next job at the gas station. This is basically a protest song. You dance off your frustrations.

Then comes more frustration, love sickness, in "The Wee Wee Hours," a 12 bar blues that works its magic because of the bleeding piano of Johnnie Johnson. The middle section where Berry's crying guitar and Johnson's piano snake around each other is cathartic.

Soon comes a car song, of course, because you are motoring now! You are burning up the dance floor. The sarcastic title of the song is "No Money Down." It's a wish fulfillment, and a wry commentary on how desire is exploited by those insidious monkey business salesmen. I love these lyrics:

"Well Mister I want a yellow convertible
Four-door de Ville
With a Continental spare
And a wide chrome wheel
I want power steering
And power brakes
I want a powerful motor
With a jet off-take
I want air condition
I want automatic heat
And I want a full Murphy bed
In my back seat
I want short-wave radio
I want TV and a phone
You know I gotta talk to my baby
When I'm ridin' alone

I want four carburetors
And two straight exhausts
I'm burnin' aviation fuel
No matter what the cost
I want railroad air horns
And a military spark
And I want a five-year guarantee
On everything I got
I want ten-dollar deductible
I want twenty dollar notes
I want thirty thousand liability"
That's all she wrote

A great dance record.

394

In the basement again trying hard on a Sunday afternoon to get back into Joel's Afternoon Sound Alternative again, to explore it deeper. And a few times I succeeded. Worth the effort for sure. A maintenance dance. Shout out to Mierle Ukeles' Maintenance Art.

(And this article I wrote on Ukeles on Fanzine: http://thefanzine.com/mierle-laderman-ukeless-maintenance-art/)

l

Friday, March 24, 2017

393

393 Dances. Funny how I kind of want them to tick by, to reach a goal, and I kind of want them to slow down, so I never reach my goal.

This morning so many ideas flowed through me. Weird ideas. Like to make a tack that appears to be a rusty railroad tie. (So I could tack up posters with old railroad ties, that's why.)

But one idea took hold and that's this. May it be so, even if only in ones and zeros. (As Lucia said yesterday, there is only one thing you need to know. Zero plus one is one. Actually there's only two things you need to know. One minus one is zero.)

Have a silent disco style Sunday morning rave on the regular, hosted by Conduit. Maybe in Doughboy park. Maybe in Calvary Cemetery. Maybe in the perfect dance floor next to the unisphere in Flushing. That would be dope!

7-9pm on Sunday mornings. Or maybe it's not silent? Would it be better with a giant boombox? I could try it both ways.

First dance would be what I listened to this morning, Joel Davis' Afternoon Sound Alternative from January 12, 2017.

It was a religious experience. Thinking about Reza Aslan on Marc Maron this morning. And TJ Miller on Crashing, "being a comedian is like being a preacher, except you aren't lying."

Being a dancer is like being a comedian. But with even less lying.

After a couple of ecstatic hours of dancing there's a Heart of Glass that shattered my heart of glass, a remix by Crabtree. I've always loved that song, the mystery in the melody, and here it was stripped and given a string quartet arrangement. So beautiful & personal.

Joel is such a good dance host, the best really.

Here's the playlist. 

Cheapedits - Blacktel - Katakana Edits Vol. 28
Thievery Corporation - Letter To The Editor (feat. Racquel Jones) - The Temple Of I & I
Matthew Squires - Unwholesome Health - Tambaleo
Eric B. & Rakim - Don't Sweat The Technique (ATCR Remix) - A Tribe Called Red Presents Moombah Hip Moombah Hop Ep
- voicebreak -
Visioneers - Rocket Man (Afrolatin Joint) - Hipology
BADBADNOTGOOD - Time Moves Slow (feat. Sam Herring) - IV
Mop Mop - Totem (feat. Anthony Joseph) [Nicola Cruz Remix] - Lunar Love Remixed
Thornato - Chapinero - Things Will Change EP
Department Of Eagles - Origin Of Love - The Cold Nose
- voicebreak -
Multicast - Faster And Faster - Multicaster
Kid Koala - Fallaway (feat. Emilíana Torrini) - Music To Draw To: Satellite (feat. Emilíana Torrini)
Kutiman - She's A Revolution (feat. Adam Scheflan & Karolina) - 6AM
Gaye Su Akyol - Eski Tüfek - Hologram Imparatorlugu
Rev. Sekou & The Holy Ghost - Hell No - The Revolution Has Come
Wax Tailor - The Road Is Ruff (feat. Lee Fields) - By Any Beats Necessary
- voicebreak -
Lettuce - Ransome - Mt. Crushmore
Baloji - Unité Et Litre (Remix) [feat. Saul Williams, Well$, Alec Lomani] - 64 Bits & Malachite (Remixes) - EP
Lascivio Bohemia - Sacudela (Andres Digital Remix) - Global Barrio Vol. 1
Calexico - Cumbia De Donde - Edge Of The Sun
Tasseomancy - 29 Palms - Do Easy
Jon Armstrong - Apricot - Burnt Hibiscus
Pavo Pavo - Ruby (Let's Buy The Bike) - Young Narrator In The Breakers
- voicebreak -
Kabanjak - Turn It Up - The Dooza Tapes, Vol. 1
Various Artists - Stone Cold Boners - Lesson One - Everything Is Going To The Beat
Handsome Boy Modeling School - The Projects (PJays) [feat. Dave & Del Tha Funkee Homosapien] - So.. Hows Your Girl?
FIREHOSE - Under The Influence Of Meat Puppets - Ragin', Full-On
Meat Puppets - Lost - Ii
The Bones Of J.R. Jones - 13 Kinds - Spirit's Furnace
- voicebreak -
David Immergluck - Joe Kirby Blues - I Am The Resurrection: A Tribute To John Fahey
Dani Nega E Craca - Froschleich - Hystereofonica Vol. 1
Chancha Via Circuito - Camino De Posguerra (Reptilian Commander Remix) [feat. Sara Hebe] - Amansara Remixed
- voicebreak -
Baba Zula - Nobey Dub (feat. Arastaman) - XX
Blondie - Heart Of Glass (Crabtree Remix) - Heart Of Glass (Crabtree Remix)
Daymé Arocena - Mambo Na' Mà - Cubafonía
T.L. Barrett & Youth For Christ Choir - Like A Ship - Shanghai'd Soul
Various Artists - Mahlalela - Gilles Peterson In Africa - The Soul
- voicebreak -
Bob Marley & The Wailers - Jamming (version) - In Dub Vol. 1
Dubmatix - Show Down (feat. Tenor Fly) - 15 Years Of Balanced Records
EarthRise SoundSystem - Earth To The Sun [Srikalogy To The Earth Remix] (feat. Vishal Vaid & Max ZT) - Rising: EarthRise SoundSystem Remix Project
Chance The Rapper - All Night (feat. Knox Fortune) - Coloring Book
Saib. - Come With Me - Dreamland
Bill Frisell - Rob Roy - Where In The World?
Robert Palmer - Every Kinda People (Joey Negro Multicultural Multitrack Mix) - Remixed With Love By Joey Negro, Vol. 2 (Bonus Track Version)
- voicebreak -
Rival Consoles - Helios - Sonne - EP

That's what I want to do every Sunday morning. Dance for a couple hours, with a couple hundred friends and strangers. Church of Dance.

Then after 3 months of build up I want to throw a party for Conduit, to get the word about them, help Joel launch in a big way. Maybe July 4 weekend. Fly out Joel. Give Conduit the shot in the arm it needs in return for the beauty Joel brought to your dance this morning (and many others too, just flip back through this blog.)

First step go to Flushing Meadows next Sunday and check out the scene. .