Took a bit but it came around eventually.
To be frank…Frank wasn’t here and he had nothing to do with how long I fiddled with this mix. What I assumed would be a month, turned into a year. At one point there were over two-hundred tracks sharing a one-bedroom flat, arguing over who got to use the shower first on a Monday. Better late than never I suppose.
I’m not afraid to admit I stared through my screen on multiple occasions…hoping for the sounds to rise from the abyss…to conjure order and design. In all actuality, it’s like staring at the chandelier you can’t reach and hoping your new roommate, Mr. Cobweb, will kindly exit stage left.
Sure, you could grab the ladder, some infomercial-grade cleaning utensil or phone a friend for help but honestly a lot of it came down to “what am I going to write” and “why would anyone care”.
Much of this mix is an amalgamation of sounds, exemplifying what I love most in music. Synths, garage amps, sliding bass, animal noises, Saturday-morning-funk and the greatest musical gift to the human race, the talkbox. They are ordered by how each track bleeds into the next but I know you’re a card-holding member of the world-renowned organization, I Do What I Want (IDWIW).
If it rises up your spine, spilling the rhythm into your limbs…then job well done. If not, well, you can just get over it.
I wasted your time long enough with a few bromidic fragments, on to the show.
So until next time get loose, get lost and enjoy the sauce.