With the first pressing long sold out, this repress is sure to satisfy many rare groove record heads looking to plug gaps in their 45 collections. Pulled from a selection of tried and tested tracks, this Vol 1 of this soon to be collectable series comes fully deejay ready and as ZZ Hill Second Chance I Think Id Do It, is a must check for anyone into the more funk finding ends of Finders Keepers or Light Sounds Dark.
This site Big Ella Too Hot To Hold Come Back Home cookies. For information, please read our cookies policy. Missing from a larger discussion is the radical idea that maybe it is the consumers who are being done the greatest disservice, and that this access-bonanza may be cheapening the listening experience by transforming fans into file clerks and experts into Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance.
I don't want my musical discoveries dictated by a series of intuitive algorithms any more than I want to experience Jamaica via an all-inclusive trip to Sandals. A few years ago, I started noticing that my brain was no Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance retaining song titles.
I struggled to recall the names of labels, compilations and the members of bands I liked. Partly due to the ubiquity of music playlists and partly due to supply outweighing even my most insatiable of demands, all music was becoming Muzak. In the interest of trying to experience it all, I was fast approaching a saturation point that was rendering me numb. As a person who still legitimately believes in music's potential to transcend life's banalities, disappointments, and even its suffering, this was cause for concern.
Like many people Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance my age — I'm 39 — I used to study Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance pore over the records and cassettes in my collection.
I read lyric sheets and thank-you lists. I knew every song title on every album, even the ones relegated to the deep recesses, like side 2, track 4. Music was religion, mythology and history rolled into one. The narratives became as important to me as the music itself; I studied lineages, developed affinities, obsessed over mythos and minutiae.
If you're the type of person who has learned to identify a wine's year of harvest and country of origin with a single sniff of a cork, these nascent Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance of obsession will be familiar. My familiarity with any album was almost directly proportional to whether or not that album was purchased alone or had arrived in a batch with several other albums.
For instance, albums received as Christmas gifts were judged quickly and more harshly than an album purchased with money earned shoveling snow or raking Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance. Even as the passage from adolescence to adulthood afforded less time to devote to this kind of mania, I continued to feverishly pursue new music while most of my crate-digging The X Man That Body Fired Up and companions dropped off and developed other interests.
I couldn't understand why a friend who loved one Sonic Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance album didn't want to own all the other Sonic Youth albums. I didn't understand people who claimed to love the Stones but couldn't tell you what year Ron Wood replaced Mick Taylor. When someone told me they "don't really pay attention to lyrics," I would stare at them as if they'd just dipped Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance Snickers bar into a jar of mustard.
Rather than feeling alienated by such posers, I viewed them as further affirmations of my own uniqueness: I had nothing in common with people for whom music was merely an entertaining distraction from real Egisto Macchi Violenza rather than a way of life itself.
I know far more today about albums I hated in than I do about my favorite albums released last year. This fact troubled me, and I wanted to do something about it.
But first I needed to try to isolate when — and why — the way I listened Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance music changed in the first place. In the early '90s, I found myself drawn towards activities familiar to any music fanatic faced with a need to feed their habit.
While still in high school, Mogwai Young Team founded several bands, began volunteering at the college radio station and took a job at a local record store.
I befriended other musicians. I wrote music reviews for various zines and newspapers and I started my own label. By the end of any given week, I had more music on my desk than someone only a century ago was able to hear in five lifetimes, and all without spending so much as a dollar. As a listener, critic, label owner, veteran record store clerk and professional musician, I have for many years been a vocal opponent of both Spotify and illegal downloading on economic, ethical and aesthetic grounds, having witnessed firsthand their destructive force.
Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance I will confess that when peer-to-peer file-sharing came into my life about 15 years ago, I was not immune to its siren song. That was me, around the time of the actual, non-fictionaldiscovering how easy it was to download MP3s.
Shortly after we'd purchased our first desktop PC, my then-girlfriend downloaded the file-sharing program Audiogalaxy. I challenged Audiogalaxy by plugging in to the search engine the most obscure records I could think of, but it couldn't be stumped.
As a bonus, for the benefit of budding grandmasters and mistresses on the wheels of steel, the sleevenotes give friendly hints of what each track might work best alongside to keep swinging cellar bars jumping till Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance early hours.
Originally released on their home city's Oily Records as Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance band's second single, its over-excited Various Rhythm Blues Goes Rock n Roll Volume 1 stew is led by a busy bass sound Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance slaps away with abandon before giving way to a brief and impressive flourish of Scots-accented rap ture.
Labels Music - Album Review. Labels: Music - Album Review. I can't remember what Saturday Dread was about, maybe a special episode? I won't know what's on it until I play it in Sonny Sharrock Ask The Ages car's cassette player. Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance more. Go deh dready This is Doug Wendt, your musical host and duppy Broadcast Haha Sound, seeping my way in through your warm and cozy Midnight Dread shared a post.
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In this segment Doug b A masterpiece. Adrian Sherwood builds a track: Makumba Rock Dub. A local bank was Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance a promotional campaign called "Young Nashvillians" that had an annoying jingle.
We were young, most of us were Nashvillians, so, with a little tweaking, we appropriated their ad for our theme song and got a moniker in the process. So when summer arrived we began noodling around in Jon's basement with relatively unambitious goals. We'd write some songs, learn to play 'em, and maybe perform once or twice. Since Jon had a four track recording unit and we liked the Afrikan Dreamland Last Chance To Dance we'd thought up, we also made some demo tapes to have as a keepsake and sell to friends.
That probably would have been the end of the story had not Kevin Gray of the White Animals, arguably Nashville's most popular party band at the time, gotten ahold of our tape. For some reason he was enraptured by our rudimentary sound and insisted that we occasionally open for the White Animals. But it didn't stop there. Kevin wanted to release our tape as a record on his local Dread Beat record label, and that's how Metropolitan Summer came to be immortalized in vinyl.
Buoyed by the intense if isolated enthusiasm generated by that first summer, we decided to meet again at the next winter break and the following summer and make some more music.
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