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Yet another classic illustration of why even my mildest efforts to blend in, or at least not stick out like a sore thumb waiting to be hammered in (something’s not quite working with that metaphor, but I’m not sure what) are irremediably doomed.

So, I’m in the train with a friend discussing our common love for the music of Fela Kuti and other seminal Afro-beat acts of the 70’s.

At one point, the discussion is hovering over the respective merits of Fela and his son, Femi, who has quite successfully taken where his father left and does a great job nowadays of blending classic afro-jazz with newer house beats and modern electro experimentations.

And that’s when I suddenly become aware that our car has not only fallen dead silent (Japanese hardly ever talk on the train anyway) but also that more than a few people are eyeing us sideways with strange looks on their face. The disruption in the wa is so major that even a dirty gaijin like me can feel something is fucked up.

We have been talking in Japanese, probably loud enough to be heard around the car. And, judging by the look on certain faces, we might as well have been talking about raping baby seals with hello kitty vibrators…

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“You wanna get dinner tomorrow?”, I said.

“I’ll come to your place if you cook something special”, she said.

At which point, had I learnt anything from the long string of pathetic failures and painful mistakes that have made up most of my life so far, I would have said: “You really sure? what about Korean. or BBQ restaurant? I know this great yakiniku in Shinjuku… let’s go there!”

Of course that’s not what I said.

I said “OK”, and mostly hoped that the word “special” at the end of her sentence didn’t carry too much meaning and had just been thrown in for good measure…

I mean, I can cook something.

Cooking something special would be a different matter though.

It may be tempting to jump to conclusions and assume that my home hosts ten times more electronic equipment than cooking utensils and that I couldn’t fry an egg to save my life…

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by ·Comments Off on Mini Mix #7: Da Electro Shit

“If he’s playing again already, it can’t have hurt that bad“, my parents would have said (any parents, really)…

Or maybe that’s just what I need. Spend a few hours playing loud music, dye my hair blue and go drink my age in sake cups (only two out of three so far, but we’re working on it).

For those who loved the funky jazzy sounds of the last few mixes… you’re gonna be disappointed.

Yea, today is electro-ish mood. Can you feel the teenage angst? can you hear the dark eyeliner and the eurotrash accents?

It’s pack full of borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties, it noisy, it’s dirty and I fucked up numerous times (that’s when I was refilling my gin tonic), but it’s my birthday so bite me (no. not there, it hurts).

Dr Dave’s MiniMix #7 (right-click here for download)

Keywords: electro, 80s, dirty, noisy, eurotrash chic, German rock, komputers, Miss Kittin, Ladytron, Felix da Housecat, Kraftwerk, LCD Soundsystem, I wanna be your dog, Losing my edge…

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今日は誕生日です。厄年ですから多分お寺に行こうね。

Fair Warning: this entry is quite likely the most bloggish, pseudo-teenage-angst-ridden, self-indulgent, boring, piece of navel-gazing ever written on this blog (and a quick look at the rest should convince you this is no small feat).

My cat, who is usually my most patient reader, fell asleep halfway through: you probably won’t fare any better. I’m mostly writing this because it’s more considerate than hogging a friend’s ear for a whole evening of uninspired confidences. It’s also much easier to erase in the morning when I get over it.

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  • Revenge of the obāchans

    It is pretty much Dawn of the Dead‘s aftermath out there (after the zombies have won). I guess only 70 year old grandmas and sleep-dephased gaijins go shop on a tuesday afternoon.

  • Sid, if you only knew what they did to you…

    There is no such thing as a music track unfit for supermarket PA in Japan. Of course, it needs undergoing a heavy process of musical mutilation first.
    I am puzzled at the mere thought of that guy out there with a cheap Casio synthesizer who spends his days re-recording any song he can put his hands on, ensuring it is first emptied of anything that could even remotely be called “musical essence”. Apparently that guy thinks that Mozart’s K. 219, Staying Alive and Anarchy in the UK all have the same potential for easy-listening adaptation.
    I might one day beg the supermarket manager to let me make a copy of their CD… unless there is some radio station that broadcast that. Need to find out.

  • Do We really need to have the fresh octopi tentacles on display, next to yoghurts and beer?

    Not that they don’t look appetizing or anything.

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by ·Comments Off on Speech Synthesis is NOT a Music Instrument

One day, YOU shall be mine!

And I must say if I didn’t already hate Apple for all the sucky hardware they’ve managed to sell me over the past year or so, the fact they use Logic’s position as compulsory industry standard to shove their ludicrous price down your throat (without any upgrade discount)… that would do it…

And don’t give me any of that “Logic Express” Lite version crap: I have seen Amiga software that could do more in 94.

Anyway, don’t have much of a choice: Logic Platinum 5.2 isn’t gonna cut it any longer and I can’t afford to go to SF each time I need access to decent compression filters or studio mastering tools.

On a totally unconnected though music-related note (note, haha…), a personal message to all my fellow sound tweakers out there:

Stop using out-of-the-box speech synthesis software in your fucking tracks!

It might have sounded retro-futuristic cute or witty post-modern electroclash a few years ago. Now, it just reeks of unimaginative track filler. At best, it sounds pretentious and gratuitous, at worst it only emphasizes the fact you were basically too broke or too lazy to get decent vocals on your track but still wanted to divert attention from its overal emptiness. Fuck, it’s not like broke and aspiring singers are hard to come by. They only come second behind broke and aspiring DJs in sheer number (though thankfully the latter are slowly disappearing, probably finally dying of starvation or something). And if you are too lazy to get out of your basement to grab the first person with a semi-decent voice, then just record yourself: who cares if you sound like a shrieking asthmatic dachshund. hell, that’s what vocoders are for. Look at Mr. Bangalter and the Daft Punk boys: couldn’t sing a C sharp to save their life, didn’t stop them from hitting it big all over the world with their hour-long tribute to band-filtered candy pop.

In short, unless you are Thom Yorke and it’s 1997, just leave that speech synthesis function the fuck alone. Thanks.

By the way, to all the Apple zealots out there: I was kidding when I said I hate Apple. Of course I don’t. I love Apple. Rhhaa, oh yea, hurt me harder, mistress

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Finally got around to writing some kind of doc for my mail posting script for WordPress. And I can therefore finally release it for the world to use and enjoy.

Please welcome a new member in the WP plugin & hack family: wp-keitaimail v. 1.0b!

Actually, it is not technically a plugin, nor a hack, rather a standalone script that interfaces with WP to let you post entries to your blog via Email.
The name ‘keitai’ simply means ‘cell phone’ in Japanese… This script might as well have been called wp-cellphone-mail, I just liked the sound of ‘keitai’.

You can see a working demo on the right-hand side of this blog where it powers the “keitai log”. I have been using it for nearly a month now and it should be really stable albeit a tad complicated to set up (see below).

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by ·Comments Off on Random thoughts from the Week-end
  • Beam bum has finally been added to my list of potential career options with a fairly high probability rating.
  • Drinking lukewarm Dom Perignon off the bottle all night is not as bad as it sound.
  • Drinking lukewarm Chivas Regal around 9 in the morning is as bad as it sounds. But it does help rinsing the taste of sand off your mouth.
  • There are a lot of reasons why you could wake up to your underwear rolled up in a bunch twenty feet away. 3am skinny dipping is only one of them.
  • Among the many things that probably should not be attempted past a certain hour while highly intoxicated (or intoxicatingly high): barbecuing with chopsticks, shooting fireworks and fixing electrical equipment hold a good position. But they can yield great fun nonetheless.
  • Miscellaneous tattoos: an Oakland Raiders logo (shoulder), a large representation of JC on a cross (chest) and a chinese kanji meaning ‘road’ in Japanese (shoulder).
  • Sunscreen spray battle is fun. and retrospectively, quite literally saved my ass.
  • Denny’s is always a safe choice for a Sunday morning fix, even if the eggs are a bit crunchy from the sand that keeps falling in your plate.

by ·Comments Off on La chair est triste, hélas, et j’ai lu tous les livres…

As promised, here is a first update on the progress of the previously mentioned no-roommate project.

And I am ashamed to say that there isn’t much progress altogether.

You see, after briefly considering adult movie-making or experiments in urban anchoretical life as chief occupations for my week-end, I finally settled on a much more pedestrian — yet of proven entertainment value — plan. A plan essentially centered around a few easy concepts such as: alcohol (preferably cheap and plentiful), friend(s), cultural exploration of new neighbourhoods (through random sampling of bars and izakaia) as well as, potentially, use of substances and sex (on same requirements as alcohol).

In that case, you may ask, why am I sitting in front of my laptop on a friday night, typing this while most obviously not partaking in any of these activities. And that is a very legitimate question.

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My roommate is leaving on vacation this morning. Gonna go spend a week in the bled and two weeks in Paris.

That means I have the place for myself and an endless array of options unrolling before my eyes:

I could have a few people over and finally shoot that “movie” we’ve been meaning to do for a long time now… although we would first need to get ahold of the gerbils and the fifty pots of Nutella chocolate spread required by the plot. Not easy to find authentic Nutella in Tokyo, especially bulk quantities.. I can see the Nutella (and maybe the goats too) being an issue.

And do not discuss the brand choice or offer some cheap local alternative: you do not expect me to compromise my artistic vision because of some measly geographical impediments.

Alternatively, I could just stock up on frozen pizza, rice and a case of Lychee-flavored Fanta (best. flavor. ever), turn off my cell phone and avoid any interaction with the outside world for a week or two. As an optional part, homemade brownies with uncle Herb special secret ingredients might be added to the plan. I can see some potential in that.

One thing is sure: the whole skipping-the-shower part is not likely. I will definitely be sticking with my four showers a day. At least as long as Tokyo’s average temperature persist in hovering above neuron melting-point temperature.

Anyway, we shall shortly be figuring out the best use to make of our newly lowered social responsibilities and concomitant increase of living space. If it involves anything funny and somewhat legal in at least a few US states, I’ll be sure to let you know.
ノルヂヌさんはフランスやアルジェリアに来月まで居るんだからアパートで一人で。大きなパーティをやると思う。:)