Dance music has long suffered from amnesia, with new artists and fans rarely remembering who came before them. When I went to Ultra a few years back and talked to the young club-goers in attendance, I met house fans who didn’t know who Carl Cox was; dnb-fanatics who were unfamiliar with Goldie; and hardcore techno lovers who were unaware that Moby had released albums outside of Play. I didn’t even dare ask them if they knew who Donna Summer was – I didn’t want to set myself up for the inevitable heartbreak.
I suppose that Love To Love Donna is an attempt to rectify this situation. A brand-new compilation features remixes of classic Donna Summer tunes by some of the hottest names in “EDM” today, it’s the best bet that Donna Summer has of being rediscovered today’s dance fans, even if the mixes included are a bit hit-or-miss.
I’ll be heading off to Japan in a few months, and unfortunately my records won’t be coming with me. It’s probably for the best though, I don’t know where I’d store 3,000+ records in a tiny Tokyo apartment. But before I shovel them away to a storage locker, I want to take some time to write about the records that mean the most to me. Today I’ll be taking a look at my collection of movie soundtracks.
I think I started collecting movie soundtracks even before I considered myself a “record collector.”
Makes sense, I was definitely a film geek well before I was anything close to a music geek. That probably has something to do with the fact that I literally grew up in a video store. My dad opened an independent video store in 1984 when I was just three years old. I spent a good chunk of my life there until he sold it to Blockbuster in the late-90s, which, when you look back on it, was a pretty amazing bit of timing on his part since the whole video store business collapsed not soon after.
There were some weeks where I literally watched a movie everyday. When I was little, it was often the same movie five times in a row (I can still recite most of Ghostbusters by memory), but as I grew older I would often use my limitless access to a seemingly endless supply of VHS tapes to catch up on as many genres, series and directors as humanly possible. I remember falling in love with 50s monster flicks after seeing Them; watching as many Ridley Scott films as possible after catching Alien for the first time in junior high; and mainlining as many anime series I could get my hands on after my dad started carrying it in the mid-90s.
When I took my trip to San Francisco last month to guest on Retronauts (and see some friends), I knew I had to make a stop at Musee Mechanique, an arcade located down at the Fisherman’s Wharf.
The Musee Mechanique is not your typical arcade, instead of focusing on what’s new and hot (fighting games and crane machines, sadly), it’s more of a museum where vintage, hard-to-find and historically important arcade games are put on display for visitors to view and play, some of which are probably over 100 years old. It’s a one-of-a-kind place, with plenty of items that you’ll probably never see elsewhere.
With over 300 machines and games in the massive warehouse space, I couldn’t interact and document them all, but I thought I’d share with you some of the more memorable and interesting items I ran across. I apologize for the mediocre picture quality on some of these pics, I only had my iPhone camera with me the day I went.
I really feel like I’m doing this album a disservice by writing a review despite not once listening to the record whilst under the influence of mind-altering drugs. However, the last time I did that I ended up giving a decidedly three-star electronic album a five-star review*, and I’d rather not invalidate my critical opinion once again. But it really doesn’t matter all that much, because I don’t think any psychotropic drug could make me dig this album anymore. Because this is the kind of shit that melts faces. Continue reading
In 2003, my brother, my father and I went to San Diego to watch our favorite team, the Oakland Raiders, take on the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in Super Bowl XXXVII.
If you know anything about football, you know that we didn’t have a very good trip. The Raiders were pummeled 21-48, in what is widely considered to be one of the most lopsided and boring Super Bowls of all time. It was a disaster. A complete and total disaster. It was such a disaster that I never even bothered to develop the disposable camera I took to the game, instead throwing in a closet next a stack of comic books and my old Star Wars action figures.
And I completely forgot about that camera, until I discovered it this past week when I was cleaning out my closet, as I am moving to Japan next year. I noticed the expiration date for the camera was sometime in 2003 or 2004, but I figured I’d take it to Rite-Aid anyways and see what developed (literally).
The results are…well, they’re interesting. Far more interesting than the game itself, that’s for sure. Film sure goes funky if you don’t develop it before it expires.
As beloved and acclaimed as the Studio Ghibli films are across the globe, finding the soundtracks for them can be a real pain in the ass if you live outside of Japan. Despite the fact that you can get almost every Studio Ghibli film easily on DVD and Blu-ray, almost all of the scores to their films remain woefully out of print in the states, on any format from vinyl to digital. Out of the 18 films that Studio Ghibli has released over the years, only the soundtracks to two remain in print in the United States; Spirited Away, and, for some reason, From Up on Poppy Hill.
So when I discovered Studio Ghibli Koyko Kyokushu, the new 2LP compilation featuring selections from various Studio Ghibli films, I was elated. Finally, a domestic release of music from these legendary films!
Then I noticed that the release was by Mondo Tees, and it was all downhill from there.
I’ll be heading off to Japan in a few months, and unfortunately my records won’t be coming with me. It’s probably for the best though, I don’t know where I’d store 3,000+ records in a tiny Tokyo apartment. But before I shovel them away to a storage locker, I want to take some time to write about the records that mean the most to me. Up first, my Pet Shop Boys singles collection.
When I tell people that I own over 40 Pet Shop Boys singles on vinyl, I always know they’re thinking something, but are too nervous to just come out and say it.
But the answer is yes, I really do love synthpop that much! (What did you think I was talking about?)