South dakota

Got into rapid city on sunday afternoon, and setup in a decent size club, but just as we were sound checking, some emo dude who looked like ryan seacrest started bitching about the promoter not paying enough to rent the venue, so they were  shutting it down before it even started.  I inquired to see what the problem was, and indeed this noob promoter didn't pay the venue enough money, and he didn't promote enough to have a lot of people coming, so we quickly assessed the situation and decided that it would be optimal to get paid and dip out, but the promoter was so sad about the financial loss that he wanted us to play at his house. Sure, no problem, I don't like taking money for nothing, but I gotta tell you, it sounded great to just cut at that point.  We decided, however, to oblige the fella and rolled all the way out to the bumfuck gambling town of Deadwood SD, the same town that wild bill hickock was shot to death and home to all types of old western folklore.  We got there, and again, were told there would be no music, for some reason, but instead smoke countless blunts and got to know a handful of people in homeboy's garage.

Again, it was the same thing; good people just like you and I, stuck in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, just looking to have a good time to no avail. I sympathized, in that place, although the black hills seem to be a much more liberal area of south dakota due to the biker influence. 

While in the garage socializing with good people, the promoter kept chiming in about a million reasons his show didn't succeed. No scene there, lack of venues, no Ins, etc. We then offered MUCH helpful advice, and even showed this guy where to find parties in his own fucking town. He just kept shrugging off the good advice like a shitty restauranteur dodging the honest advice from Gordon Ramsey. He knew the recipes. His recipes were good. He couldn't figure out why people weren't eating his food, and making up irrelevant excuses as to why there was nobody in his restaurant. Take a recipe from some chefs, motherfucker, there's a hair in your soup, and you need to stop adding salt. That's all I have to say about that.

Effortlessly hundreds of dollars heavier, we set sail in the morning for Mount Rushmore. Carl and I bullshitted about how he could bring outdoor events to south dakota that would rule (i agree, shit is untapped out there!)  and made it through a couple of white grape flavored blunts as we wound our way up through the snaking roads of the black hills. In my head,all I could see were past images of old bearded prospectors breaking their backs with pickaxes to find tiny gold nuggets that would later become the jagged horseshoe nugget rings on the chubby fingers of old men sitting at card tables across this great country.

As we wound up the back of the highest peak, we swung across  to the left and I got my first peak at one of the greatest honkey cracker monuments of freedom that this country has to offer, and I took it all in…. or maybe it was smoke, I don't know. I will say this, it's something to see. George washington gazing across the prarie, looking over his vast hemp fields, and his 3 amigos co signing his cold steel hundred mile stare. Roosevelt  bore an astonishing resemblance to Ned Flanders. I felt like a hairy american winning machine. "we're gonna kick you indians out and blast our faces onto your motherfucking mountain!" now that's freedom!

We said our prayers, ate our vitamins, pumped iron in front of all 4 presidents, and bid farewell to mount rushmore, headed for the badlands of South Dakota. In my town, badlands is a buff australian firefighter themed gay bar, so I was wary, but when we arrived, I was absolutely blown away. It looked like mordor and the grand canyon combined. An ocean floor from 4 million years ago that sprawled for as far as the eye can see. I felt like I was among sacred geometry. 

Immediately, we climbed to the highest point we could find and blasted off on DMT. I peered down over 30 miles of jagged valley as the earth showed me its creation and how it formed, and showed me sacred symbols, and told me a story in patterns. I felt the mighty wind on my back, heard the birds singing their song across the empty valley, and then sobered up and realized that my fatass was standing on a motherfucking cliff a thousand feet up and 2 feet from certain death. It was epic, I felt compelled to stay silent, and it was the most alive Ive felt in ages. I will never forget that moment for as long as I live. Easily one of the most beautiful places I've ever set my own two eyes on. and now…. we're out. Thank you, south dakota, you are beautiful and I hope to be back again one day.

people are strange

Minneapolis was a fucking riot. 2,000 people, 30 foot wall of sound with Tipper playing, unreal! As awesome of a time and a city that it was, we had to keep on truckin' and made our way toward sioux falls, South Dakota. The whole ride there was flat and unremarkable, and when we finally got to sioux falls, it hardly stood out as a city at all. It seemed as if we'd arrived somewhere alien in 1988. It was sparse, full of tractor dealerships, and places to wet your whistle. We arrived at our rendezvous point, at the residence of the coolest motherfucking ice cream man of all time; who on a whim setup a little show for us. It was epic, playing at the south dakota  country music hall of fame. Of course, to an empty room, while the country band in the next room kicked out roadhouse anthem after roadhouse anthem, and people stared at me like some kind of hippie fag when I sauntered in to take a piss. It was gritty, and you know what? I get off on that shit. The 25 people that came through our doors that night who chose to forego the country band on their home turf are some fucking savages. The one thing I realized about being out here is that the people are a lot nicer, and a lot less egotistical, and when you meet people at a party; they're just like you. They don't give a rats ass, they just wanna listen to music and bug out, and it's the same everywhere, and I'm proud to know that. We made it through the show blitzed on bud light and sour diesel, stayed the night with the ice cream man and bullshitted on the late night, and had some of the best goddamned home made baked beans Ive ever had, and a taste of hospitality that I've rarely ever been shown on the west coast. Unreal.

Up next, we're headed to Rapid City, South Dakota on a 5 hour ride through majestic plains where the lakota indians used to hold court, and the open prarie where "Dances With Wolves" was filmed. There's absolutely nothing out here, and that's the beauty in my opinion, the wide open space. You could go your whole life out here only seeing a handful of people if you wanted to. That's not an option where I live. I hope rapid city goes well, but who gives a rats ass if it's a road house with chicken wire in front of the stage to prevent the at-will bombardment of budweiser bottles when the musical selections turn to their opinion of south. I just came here to have fun, not make a million dollars or play to a million people, and I can have fun anywhere. All I know is that whether or not I kill it tonight or get booed off the decks, I'm smoking a blunt at mount rushmore and I'm doing it for the indian chiefs who aren't around anymore to keep watch over their beloved south dakota.

Minnesota...

We arrived in minneapolis early and got some well needed rest before the show. When we arrived to the venue, we were greeted by one of the most beastly sound systems I've ever seen indoors. After being thoroughly intimidated, we went back to our hotel to get ready and chill for a few hours.

A few hours came and went, and I walked from my hotel down to the venue. It was early, and the line was around the block. After getting settled and having a beer, it was time to do do our thing, and nervously I made my way to the dj booth. I've played on some pretty big sound systems before, but this one took the cake. Slowly, people trickled in from all over the midwest and filled the room, and before I knew it, the hour was over and that was that. I didn't expect as much crowd response as we got, and all night I was getting sporadic high fives from strangers and girls grabbing my hair and pointing at my skin like I was some kind of blonde toddler in a japanese fishing village. It was strange.

Minnesota himself graced the decks and ripped the place apart. This man is easily my favorite stateside dubstep producer and he pretty much burned the motherfucker down last night. That guy is gonna do big things!

Up next, my good friend Carl "moon juice" warner was asked to open for the one and only Tipper. Nervously he warmed up a room full of a thousand people to some epic sing along jams and set the tone for the don himself.

Tipper hit the sound system with a motherfucking fury that words cannot explain. Ive seen Tipper and heard many live sets but none like this. At this point in the night I had the most god awful headache and I didn't even care, I sat right in front of the subs and had my chest cavity rattled by the most alien bass sounds this side of Orion's belt.  Epic. I've never heard bass like that before. If you looked at the crowd all you could see was a sea of wholesome midwestern folk absolutely losing their shit. What a time!

All in all, minneapolis was a huge success, and I wish more parties were like this. Minnesota goes hard, holy shit.

tonight tonight!

Yesterday we made it through nebraska, and I had one of the best sandwiches of my life in Lincoln, nebraska,at  a sandwich shop that shared a building with a porno store. Don't hate. Rolled on through nebraska into the sprawling quaint countryside of iowa, and stopped in des moines for the night to crash! After a well needed night's sleep, we made it into minneapolis and stopped by the 7th street entry to check out the venue where we'll be playing tonight, alongside Tipper (my hero), Minnesota, Detroit Grand Pubahs and a whole slew of heavy hitters. Nice soundsystem eh>?  I can't wait! I will be sure to let you guys know how it goes, but until then, peep some new epic music from tipper himself! Cheers <3

middle america is a lot like middle earth

America. Fuck yeah. I hope to see the sights, the giant yarn balls, and taste the many greasy tastes that middle america has to offer. Bring on the cheese fries. We kick off our trip with a 36 hour road trip to minneapolis, minnesota. We began by sailing through the vast high desert, and taking in the beauty of all of the surrounding space. Just as we began to take it all in, Carl, my good friend says the most sensible shit I've heard all day. "Do you ever wonder why people just gravitate toward these confined spaces full of people, big cities? there is so much room out here and we all just huddle up together in these places because there's other people there." On the road today it was a haze of blunt smoke, steve miller band, and the loud crunching of kettle chips.  We stopped at an arby's restaurant in Elko, nevada, and the lady at the drive thru didn't seem to pumped on our 30 dollar order full of items from the dollar menu. While she was unenthusiastically stuffing ketchup into our bag, we noticed a tattoo of cannibus leaves behind her ear. As she handed us our order, my buddy slipped her a nug and said thank you for the kind service. Then, I'll be damned,  her face lit up like a christmas tree. Hope her night got better out in that apocalyptic wasteland roast beef shack. I'll keep my fingers crossed for ya.  Almost through  wendover, Nevada. The last city in the Pacific time zone. I will have to say goodbye to my beloved time zone and enter a place where I have no clue what comes on tv and what time.  It terrifies me. Here comes utah.

I had fallen asleep in utah and woke up just outside of laramie, wyoming. I saw the sun rise across and endless backdrop of grassy hills, and it made me think of how bad the indians must have had it, waking up in this barren place every morning and fighting off the stinging cold just to survive. We drove into cheyenne and I eagerly got out of the car to stretch my legs. I was immediately reminded about the broken fly on my pants by a cold gust of wyoming chill rushing my balls like an ice cold blow dryer. My sack felt like a can of coors light with the mountains at peak blueness. Welcome to middle america, enjoy the icy balls. Thanks, wyoming.

A couple blunts later, I awoke in the great state of nebraska, to cloudy skies and foghat playing on the radio. Just as the weather took a turn for the worse and started pouring, we looked across the highway and saw a fatality on the oncoming side. Someone's car looked like a pancake, with no ambulances or fire trucks yet on site, and a police man kicking football sized pieces out of the road shaking his head. Rough luck. We continued at warp speed through the corn husker state, and to my motherfucking surprise, saw not one ear of corn.  What a wash. We just passed fort kearney, and it wasn't nearly as pixellated as I remembered it from playing oregon trail. What a pleasant surprise. On goes the ride toward iowa.  

California Love

I'm t-minus two days from going to the midwest for a string of tour dates and I am terrified. I've always been humbled by the element of surprise when it comes to dj'ing.... just when you think you're going to play to a packed house, nobody shows up and vice versa. Murphy's law scares me. I've definitely been biting my nails for a minute about this. I hope all goes well and we get a chance to show the midwest a little bit of california flavor. I hope one day we will all look back on this and  be stoked. However it goes, I know one thing; all I aim to do is have fun. For the better part of the past 10 years, I've been playing to empty rooms as well as full ones strictly for the love of the game.  I don't give a rat's ass about money or popularity, as long as we have a good time. Wish me luck <3

Grippin' & Sippin', mayne!

I like to get out. I love being places I've never been. It doesn't happen nearly as much as I'd like it to, but I like going to completely strange and alien places and just opening my eyes and observing. I like to see all the differences in the environments, and the way people act in different settings. I've learned to take a piece of that with me and become a different person by learning a little more about things I hadn't previously experienced.

When I go to those unfamiliar places to play music, I always worry about what to play. I worry that maybe I won't play what that city likes or is into at the time, and it will just go horribly astray. I try to think about their city…. history…. roots… and I start thinking of my own home… the places I stay… and I realize that I am there to do my own thing….. not adapt to accommodate any alien place, or to stray from how I'm feeling and what I'm feeling.

So I think about the things I see on a regular basis…. I routinely stay in a patch of rough neighborhoods in northern california, and I greet the morning sun by drowning out the sound of sirens or the freeway with my own smoker's cough. In the morning, you might have to kick a dope fiend shooting up off of your front tire, or catch people digging through your trash like raccoons. Right in between two freeways, there's this recycling center with a park across the street where people buy crack. Out front of the recycling center, a statue of c3p0 stands guard majestically while the jawas, dope fiends and tusken raiders line up to bring in their bountiful harvests of aluminum, copper wire, and various other shiny metallic items by the basketful for hours before the place even opens. Trains of shopping carts around the block and even sometimes people towing refrigerators from them have been known to frequent this area.

At night it becomes even more alive than the day, except there are no street lights. It's like a middle eastern bazaar in the middle of the night, lit up by the sporadic flash of bic lighters flaring up. Here you can buy anything; women, stolen goods, and compton caviar (rocks!). I steer clear. The posted speed limit is 25, with several stop signs that nobody obeys while they speed through in their fleetwood broughams at 60 miles per hour. It's almost like lawless pakistan. Sure there are cops…. in better areas… and they only come within 6 hours if you're in danger of dying or already dead.

When you go to the store, people ask you for money, and if you happen to feel soft and give them the money, they don't bother to thank you. Everywhere you go, someone needs a cigarette, and at night, under the freeway it looks like a burning man theme camp, with rv's stacked high with chairs, pipes, planks and everything one would need to build a tree fort, right on top, unconstructed. Sleeping bags line the sidewalk underpass, making it look like the keys of a giant piano from one of those old FAO schwarz stores. I bet this one could only play dirges, however, should tom hanks drop by sometime to play chopsticks.

It's grim sometimes, and at times strangely beautiful…. like it or not…it's part of my life.

I can't complain though, I spend my days out here in the wild west kicking up sand and burning it down with my best friends. There's always something fun to do, and it's not the type of place where you're gonna get sued if shit gets real and you have to act out of character. I wanted to make a quick mix that sounds like the places I see lately, and for the new blog I am working on for kicks, and this is what came of a long night of percolater smoke and wishing I'd have bought a gold chain instead of my first set of turntables.

I've seen my share of places, and slept on my share of floors in places I was unfamiliar with, and now I want you to step into my office and get a taste of where I'm coming from. Come see how I'm living and get a taste of the west coast while you relax in the comfort of wherever it is that you dwell. Welcome to paradise! I invite you to sit next to me in my '84 seville, and drink from my double styrofoam cup. Take a hit of this, see what I'm seein'. Come to my homie's backyard and eat carne asada with me til the cops come. Grab yourself a pitbull and make yourself comfortable.That's some real California love. That's just my observation of the situation when I'm out here grippin' and sippin'. Cheers, bud.

tracklist

Euthanizing a dream- NiT GriT
Fog- Sduk
The Bayou- Cyntel
sunburst- Minnesota
Lost in the blur- Flinch
Purple- NiT GriT
Lightning- Antiserum& illesha
true soul- matty g
two seven- preecha
funk soul- death star
something in your eyes (mistajam remix)- Stinkahbell
My trance girl- Joker
I will never change- Benga
Milky Way- Joker
Jail Break- 12th planet
Electrify- Jakwob
I see U(girl unit remix) Lunice (dials edit)
Jetstream- Minnesota

a sad day for cuckoos everywhere.....

My downstairs neighbor lady died suddenly.... What a sad day it might be.... had she not wished death upon me and cursed me out every time we saw each other for no reason at all. Perhaps she can rest easy now and not blame the head of the homeowner's association for chasing her down with snakes, and leaving angry notes for people not to look in her trash that she was discarding anyway. I hope there is a heaven for crazy ladies where they can freely blame angels for ruining their lives and make infinite calls to their neighbors' landlords about screens hanging off of their windows. A place where their spirit can freely raise as many cats as their house can fit, and never again will they have to put up missing posters at the laundromat -demanding- the safe return of their "stolen" cats. Perhaps.... and perhaps not.... I don't know much about the afterlife, but I will say this : Don't haunt me, bro! Rest in peace, batshit crazy lady downstairs.

Greetings, and welcome!

In this blog, I will share all of my tales of woe, mixes, new cool music, and all types of other ill shit. I've been meaning to put up a blog as a place for me to keep rants, cool stories, and new music all in one place, and this is where I'll be spilling it all for the world (or 8 people) to see. Stay tuned! :)