Scumcast! 2

Y'know we lookin' fly man/
Peculiar Purple Pie Man/
Lasers shoot out my eyes that straight up re-attach yo' hymen/

Check Checkuh 1-2. A-Mickey Mickey Mickey Mouse, Rock the House.

Scumcast Round Two ba-buh-buh-baby! jyeeeah....


Scumcast! 2

1.Kilo-Paradiso
2.Thomas Fehlmann-Schaum
3.Kalabrese-Hafenlied
4.White Magic-The Gypsies Came Marching After (Pocketknife's Silk, Wool, and Rust Remix)
5.In Flagranti-Bipolar
6.Escort-All Through The Night (The Rapture's Hush Hush Remix)
7.Lil Mama-Lip Gloss (Kid Fresh & Haterboy Refix)
8.M.I.A. feat Timbaland-Come Around (Eli Remix)
9.Diplo-Work Is Never Over
10.The Black Ghosts-Any Way (Fake Blood Remix)
11.Stanton Warriors-Pop Ya Cork
12.Kocky-Keep Ballin
13.Alex Smoke-Prima Materia (Abort Mix)
14.The Field-Silent

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http://www.djscallywag.com/Mixes/Scumcast!.xml

So yeah, another live mix for your ears, ranging from pretty new to brand spanking new joints. It's kind of a quick peak time party set wedged between some shimmery, hypnotic post-techno songs...so there's some stuff that's really detailed (yet hazy) and some stuff that beats you over the head.

Huh? Yep. I guess Scumcast's are gonna be crazy like that?

It actually turned out alright though...always curious to know what people think, by the way. I like feedback. I actually like constructive criticism even more. Don't be afraid to tell me my shit sucks if you can back it up with valid points. I encourage it.

(Yeah, c'mon people! It's so easy for me to call dude out on his shit that it barely even phases him anymore. Where are all you other condescending fuckheads at? -Ed)

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In other news, I've convinced myself that I'm moving to New York at some point. It's pretty damn amazing. So many people from different walks of life just stacked right on top of each other...all this sensory info jampacked into every nook and cranny...plus not fucking with cars and the little bubble that that creates between you and the world...all of it is pretty invigorating.

Granted my whole trip was basically just a hardcore bender, but good things managed to occur. There was this whirlwind of awesomeness amidst all the massively intensive bev'n that kept me going strong. Towards the end, my blood literally felt like it was trying to leap outta my body... sort of like in The Thing when they do that blood test shit and all hell breaks loose. Such a sick movie. It was probably trying to stay there cause it knew I was leaving, right?

Serious though, shout outs to everybody that was accommodating. Apologies to the chick from Thunderheist for thinking it was ok to get up there and dance with you while you were performing. It's cool though, the security guard decided to choke me out for you after he dragged me off the stage. Also apologies to the girl in the makeshift bathroom at that loft party in BK. I thought the drapes they used as walls were pretty funny or fun or whatever. I guess I was so stoked about dropping that deuce that I felt obligated to tear da club up immediately afterwards (basically just punching the curtains while stomping around I think...). I didn't realize there was another "stall" directly adjacent. Your screams scared the fucking shit out of me!

(WE SOME HEADBUSSAS!!! WE SOME HEADBUSSAS!!! -ED)

But yeah, fun times were had. Only real complaints? Lots of flow was required (but I knew about that). Mostly, it was just the mug factor that was pretty intense. I'm dainty as fuck when it comes to temperature, and the humidity plus the sun beating down was a little much at times. Plus when you throw some of those hard wiffs from the subway in there...whooo boy. That gust of pure hot muggage that you get hit with on the first couple steps down into an entrance?!? Goddamn...that almost bowled me over a few times.

Also, there was this person on the subway that I can't stop thinking about and I was wondering if anybody knew more of his story.

We were in Manhattan, I think it was the E train, and I was super hung over/zoning out really hard, and all of the sudden this tattered old blind man comes limping in through the between car doors with a large husky type dog in tow. He had a microphone and an ancient looking speaker strapped to his hip, as well as all of these laminated newspaper clippings taped to his chest. I tried reading them a little, but I was still in a stupor and wasn't processing all too well. I remember one said something about glitches...glitch face or something. Anyway, after he entered he stood there for a second, all rickety and mangled, then proceeded to moan into his microphone. It wasn't just a moan though. It was the most somber, devastating wail I think I've ever heard, like a horribly drawn out death bed lament, only eerily melodic. Hearing it through the crackly old speakerbox gave it the strangest echoed out quality as well; there was a distance to it that was so haunting yet visceral, but he was standing right there, contorted like a zombie, eyes soaked in emptiness.

As he started to lurch forward I noticed that my friend, who was sitting on the opposite side of the train, had struck up a conversation with the lady sitting next to him. She had just put some money in the man's cup and was going on about how she sees him all the time and how she feels so bad for the dog. She said she works as a dog walker, and she could tell by how the dog walks with his tail between it's leg that it was very, very sad. Looking at the dog as it passed, I saw how it was shuffling along with heavy steps, almost dragging its paws. Its head was low to the ground and its eyes were focused on the floor. And yeah, she was right, it's tail was between it's legs, but more so then any dog I've ever seen. Its tail was literally buried between it's legs, like it had been pulled as far forward as possible and then stapled to its stomach. At the same time, it became pretty apparent that the lady was completely strung out. She kept nodding off while my friend was talking to her, swaying slightly and slurring her speech while her eyelids hovered at half-mast.

I was starting to reel as all of these feelings were hitting me at once, colliding with my previous drone state, fucking up my head. Then all of the sudden, the wave of polarity eased up slightly, just enough for me to snap back into the moment. Maybe it was because the box was actually a foot away from my face at this point, spewing its mess of sound directly at me. I leaned in and I swear I could hear a seemingly lucid speaking voice trapped in the white noise. There was a half-formed murmur, some scattered makings of a message trying to cross planes, but I just couldn't make out the words; They were buried too deep, lost in a wash of static and hiss amidst the rhythm of subway tones. I looked up to see if the man was really trying to communicate with me, trying desperately to tell me that he knew exactly what he was doing here, that he completely understood the gravity of what it was he was trying to show everyone - the reason he persisted - but he just kept shuffling forward with his neck swiveling sideways back and forth and his mouth slung low and crooked and his eyes wobbling around clouded and aimless in their sockets. Everybody else on the train kept to themselves as he passed by.

I've lived in LA my whole life and have seen and dealt with plenty of derelicts and crazies in my day, and while they are all difficult to deal with emotionally, I usually don't dwell on them. Still, everything about this man was so intensely world-weary yet still forcefully present that I can't decide if I saw a ghost, or a living monument to the true depths of human sadness.

I figure if he's a regular on the subway then somebody has seen him and read those clippings he had dangling from his torso. I was curious as to what they say or if anybody knows anything about this guy or if he's just one of many fractured souls that you can't help but mentally phase out while living there...y'know, in order to maintain some sort of positive outlook about how real life relates to our well-meaning but logically delusional feelings regarding universal morality/karma.

Anyway, I just want to know more and I really hope someone with a more poetically inclined delivery has done this guy justice. He needs a Hubert Selby or William Vollmann level of empathetic understanding.

...





Soooo...anybody in the mood for some mp3s?

Peder-ache

Peder-timetakesthetimetimetakes

I guess I got caught up in the wonders of melancholy there for a sec. Here's some top notch moodiness courtesy of Peder off Ubiquity (a consistently great label that I guess is isn't really "indy" enough to be "blogworthy"). Peder is a part of OG production/remix team, The Prunes. As in really dope remix on the Beastie Boy's Sure Shot Ep back in the day Prunes. Or all over the classic Mo Wax Headz 2 compilation, remixing DJ Krush in his prime Prunes. These are from his new solo album, "And He Just Pointed To The Sky". Yeah, how on point is that for a title of a somber record?

Black Moth Super Rainbow-Sun Lips

Black Moth Super Rainbow-Rollerdisco

These guys also have really nice melodic leanings that I'd say are steeped in melancholy, only their brand of it has been sandblasted with psychedelics in order to maintain some semblance of bliss. And they got the always crucial P-Fizzy review so you know Internet Town is lit up with positive approval. Sun Lips is a gorgeous whirling lobotimizer that has been scorched with a pleasantly grating emphasis on blaring tonality. Rollerdisco is the inferred intersection between old school Boards of Canada and overdosing a few times too many.

Dj Lobsterdust-Baby Arrow (Marvin Gaye and Mary Wells V Album Leaf V The Carpenters)

Best straight mash-up I've heard since Flosstradamus's Twista Versus Sigur Ros or Cosmo Baker's Applause Riddim Versus Papa Was A Rolling Stone. Super choice combo with the key's matching like gloves (plus some lovely bonus humming courtesy of the Carpenter's). Lobsterdust is an awesome dj name, btw. It's up there with DJ Rumpelforeskin, only with a 5-MEO-DMT nod.

Ohzz, and also, I love how much shit gets talked on mash-ups, yet how kinda necessary they are if you are trying to make a name for yourself as a dj. Especially considering that the difference between a mash-up and sampling is basically how far you strive to make both elements recognizable in a pop culture sense. If it's obscure, it's sampling. If it's old, it's sampling. But if it's recognizable or was released fairly recently, it's looked down on (yet eaten up at the same time). Yes, I know the main reason there's a stigma is because it is so easy to make a shitty one and there are tons of them, but as far as branding goes, shit still seems to be very lucrative.

Back to the subject, look at Kanye, who pulled a super cheap shot with the Daft Punk sample for his new single, even though it is conceptual gold as far as pulling in the whole indy market that I'm sure he became intently set on after being burned by Justice at the MTV Europe awards, and then catching on to a couple of the ins and outs (most likely via A-Trak). It's an empty power move, but considering how high profile he is makes it genius in a business sense...like a certain hollow kind of genius that can't be denied because that's just how our world works...but hey, I'm sure Daft Punk was more than happy to take his money. I mean, it's not like they got a new album coming out or anything. The just got zeitgeisted back into the fray because of an awesome awesome stage show.


Ginny-Can't Be Serious

This could soo work as the Scarface End Credits Theme. A slow motion Pacino/Phife Dawg montage would kill this shit! Or even better, a music video with random business dude tied to a chair,a cloth around his mouth, and Ginny with the big hair and pink fog machine action acting all hard like she's gonna execute his ass while he squirms and sweats. Instead, she just feigns all kinds of sinister, kinda grinding on him and slapping him around a little while going back and forth between him and her girlsquad to throw down some hot steps. Mane tossing abound.


Strategy-Running On Empty

This is a great forward thinking fusion of downtempo and dub inflected beats that's nice and clean but somehow not innocuous. Ohh, I'm kinda loaded and just typing a bunch of hooey now.


Ennio Morricone-Cavallina A Cavallo

Ennio, one of the greatest composers evaaaaaaa. Here he is forgoing all that cinematic grandeur in favor of some bubbly light-heartedness. It's like a combo of 70's porn music and detergent commercial jingles. Nice!

Jimmy Ross-First True Love (Larry Levan Mix)

Ok, but sirius. New York was dope and lived up to my internal hype after fetishizing it's culture for so so long. Here's some real deal realness courtesy of the don of NY flavor. Has he been called the Quincy Jones of Disco? Cause that could be a good claim. Man I feel like I've made a lot of claims tonight. Whatever. I'll deal with it later. PUBLISHHHHHHHH.