We went to the playboy mansion.
I cannot recount stories of steaming grotto liasons. I know know accounts of bacchanalian antics performed by bona-fide a-list names. I have no choice nugget of dirt or even wisdom to share vis-a-vis a recent trip the gang made to that infamous castle occupied by one of the great print enterpreneurs of the last century. The party we went to was not quite the breasts and booze fueled rager that one might have expected, but it certainly had its moments (Three “new kids” of the “on the block” variety were in attendance, one of which was in leather chaps as well as rare form). There was also a birthday tribute acoustic two-fer by courtney love. The only bunny in the building was on the arm of the host, and the single among us reasonably deemed her off limits.
So. No playboy mansion orgies this time. Sorry.
I can say this: the place is ready for such behavior. The ‘game room’ (which served as the DJ dressing room, lucky for us) is equipped with numerous hotel style bedrooms with, let’s say a minimalist approach to furnishing: Each containing one bed, four walls (mirrored), one telephone (rotary), and a generous supply of industrial grade paper towels. Just the essentials right? There was however, one room in this wing with no bed, but plenty of sitting pillows. Puzzled, i stepped into the room, wondering how uncomfortable it must be to wildly fornicate atop red shag carpet. As my foot stepped into the middle of the room, it sank. The floor was padded, a faux floor with a bed in it! What a strange and wonderful mansion.
I fear doom for the printed-periodicals-for-pleasure industry. And my visit here made me think the chilling and terrible thought that the nerdy dot com starters of the future may lack the vision and capacity for indulgence that old Hugh Hefner has blessed his neighborhood with. I say to them two things, million- and billionaires yet to become: 1) see no limits, and 2) have us over sometime to check the place out.
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When we were in London we stopped by Fabric and got a tour of the spot. We learned that the dance floor has sensors in it so that when the music hits a certain frequency the floor will vibrate and rattle like a speaker box. Jams and I asked If there was a name for the contraption that did the shaking. Tom from The Patchwork Pirates called it “Propa Bayss.”
In preparation for their set at Fabric on Friday The Pirates put together this 40 minute mix…Sound like Jackie Chan in it…
Also The Patchwork Pirates just came off a hugely successful Thugs and Hugs party in Spain at the Sonar festival. Rusko, Jackmaster, and Drums of Death were all present. You can check out the pictures and keep up to speed with the LDN fellas at Affiliates Studios.
FabricLive Mix - July 2008
Tracklist here…
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FREE SHOW
Fridays Off the 405 at The Getty
1200 Getty Center Dr
Los Angeles
6-9pm
We’ll be providing Moon Dogg quality selections of music before and after Dan Deacons madness. Maybe we’ll even play a few BR songs if a microphone is handy. I heard you should get there early cause the parking deck fills up fast.
Click to explode
Saturday night we’re playing at the Pool trade show w/ Lakes. A benefit to stop child exploitation.
2900 Rowena Ave.
Los Angeles
You can skip this post if you have ever:
Eaten biscuits. Been paid in a bag of change. Snuck into ‘the great escape’, a run down and out of business go kart track graveyard. Been disappointed by what they found after sneaking into ‘the great escape’. Worn footwear designed for the practicalities of short-range seafaring. Visited an artist’s studio, uninvited. Discovered a rock quarry in the middle of the town you grew up in, that everyone else seemed to know about already. Dived into the aforementioned rock quarry, off of more-or-less a cliff, into more-or-less freezing water; with several (nearly lifelong) friends, some of whom are intermittently naked, and contemplating running and jumping from conspicuous spots in the rock.
Also if you have been pulled over on your day off, while you were just trying to enjoy the nice car that you work very hard to make payments on. If you have, despite a generational and political ambivalence toward “America”, planned a barbecue on memorial day, and executed it. If you have played bocce. Barefoot. Or dyed your shoes with berries. If you have shotgunned beers. If you have done it voraciously and barfed (on a skateboard!). Or if you have known when to call it a day. If you have ollied, for serious, or if you have ollied for old time’s sake. If you have fed water, as well as promises that ‘it will be okay’ to a friend. If you have, in order to be with your family and friends for longer, made a last minute call to an airline to change flight arrangements, and found yourself met with no fees or resistance.
If you have done these things, there is nothing to see here. Only simple banalities, fast and easy pleasures. If you have not, please review the photographic evidence that follows, and consider our suggestion that the relinquishment of youth (and the particular brand of associated happiness) is totally, one hundred percent, voluntary.
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Our good friend Aaron Farley recently was sent to Kuwait to photograph a concert on an army base.
“…The Army LOVES Disturbed, and the Pussy Cat Dolls. And Jessica Simpson was a flop. Z-Trip’s set was mind blowing! He had everyone freaking out over his metal/breakbeat set, then ended it up with a slow number, interspersing Jello Biafra’s famous quote.. “We support the troops more, because we say bring them home!!” and everyone was cheering and crying, super intense! Gave me a bit of hope.”
He also takes photos of bullfights, abandoned wildlife, Costco, Los Angeles, guns, and Australia. All of which can be found on his site.
May 25th, Concord, North Carolina
Derest friends, you are probably like myself. When you think of NASCAR your mind teems with dozens of cultural associations–none of them flattering, none of them inconspicuous. None of them are entirely unfounded either. You probably have little or nothing in common with the 250,000 plus people who are likely to congregate for a big race, and you probably don’t understand the point of watching 50 or so people drive in a circle for six hours. You might not even like sports. I was and am still very much like you, but to you i say this: go to one race. After the pacelap, when the real race began, the verb ‘to roar’ no longer belonged to lions. It now belonged to these massive blurry objects in blindingly elliptical orbit around the makeshift RV shanty in the middle of the track. They were indescribable. Demon cats from space. For speed, approximate to the eye. There was actually a moment where i got rubber from one of the tires on my face.
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May 25th Concord, North Carolina
We were invited last sunday to watch a NASCAR race (not just any race, but the coca-cola 600, the longest and possibly most intense race of the season). I don’t know much about the sport, but i knew there would be a quarter of a million people in, on, and around the stadium to watch for the outcome. I also knew we had pretty killer seats in an air-conditioned, double decker lounge. Spa water (2 kinds), sea bass, open bar. Coffee on tap, cookies on deck. And we could stand three feet from the track.
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From Emynd:
“As a side note regarding my “Mad Again (NOLA Bounce Remix)” that I feel necessary to make clear anytime anyone posts about it on the internet, I made a very significant effort to keep it as traditionally NOLA BOUNCE as possible. Even though I’m not from New Orleans and have had very little interaction with Bounce culture, I felt that making this remix would be a good way for me to hopefully make some people interested in the New Orleans Bounce music that I’ve grown to love over the past couple years. In order to do this with some level of self-respect in tact and to attempt to avoid the cultural imperialism I often find myself rallying against, I made a very clear and deliberate effort to make this remix a blatant IMITATION of my favorite Bounce artists and producers. Not only did I sample the New Orleans Bounce staples (the Triggerman bells, Triggerman breaks, the “WHO!” and the “Alright!” from The Showboys “Drag Rap” as well as the “Rock the Beat”/”Brown Beat” drum break), but I also very deliberately sampled vocals from Gotty Boi Chris, Dime Gyrl Drell and De Ja Vu, and imitated the production styles of my favorite Bounce producers: Blaza, Peacachoo, Blaqnmild (aka Blaq Biggi Blaq), and Took. If you’re at all into my Bounce remix, I highly suggest you visit the linked myspace pages above and purchase some of that AUTHENTIC New Orleans Bounce music.
Anyway, hope you like it.”
Make sure to check out Cross Faded Bacon for more Emynd and Bo Bliz. If that ain’t enough there is an interview of them dudes at 215hiphop.
Mad Again (NOLA Bounce Remix) 320kbps
If the day requires levity and focus, then what does the night require? Manic revelry. Dark and electric not warm and celebratory. How to transform yawns into sweet panic? You will need the following:
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Last Saturday we played NC school of the Art’s Musee de Beaux Arts end of the year party, an up-is-down, smart-but-rowdy jam that we historically have had so sneak into in one way or another during our salad days. This time, strangely enough, we were guests of honor. I personally was having a post-pinehurst-poisoning near death experience while the rest of the gang handled load-in and became privy to moon bounces, space jumps, and jello wrestling (meanwhile i’m receiving all of this info via text in my sickbed). In the afternoon, Mitchell had a BYO-(thai)Barbecue, and we subsequently had a zealously lit jam. More after the jump.
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May 23rd Pinehurst, North Carolina
Last Friday afternoon: “We have a show tonight in Pinehurst, NC.” “Pinehurst?.” “Yea, Pinehurst.” “Where we playing, a golf course?” “Maybe.”
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May 22 Winston - Salem, North Carolina
We landed, got scooped by Shotgun Brooks and Fly Ty, made our way to Wesley E’s seminal piedmont rap radio show Flava Lab (15 years strong) to stop by and hang out for a bit. Then on to catch up with the inimitable DJ SK on a rooftop in greensboro, some laptop-only DJ trainwrecking merrily away in the background. We got the call that the Autopassion van had just skidded into Winston-Salem and we made a bee line for nearly every public house downtown. When those were exhausted, we gladly transferred the operation to Thomas’, where we could properly catch up on the A-pash boys’ tales of their first month in the big city. It was one of those amazing nights that illuminates the value of travel and friends, where nothing happens and nothing needs to. ps: Happy Birthday Miss Kay. Keep reading →
