Friday Night Music Club

Well, folks, we made it: not just to another Friday, but to the final part of my six hour long(ish) Friday Night Mix.

This week, though, I’m not going to wang on with anecdotes about why I’ve picked certain tunes or what they remind me of. I’m simply going to slip my usual disclaimer in – any skips and jumps in the mix are down to the mixing software; any mis-timed mixes are down to me; all record choices are mine – and then add to it. A bit.

For there is one technical thing I would like to point out: all of the mixing on all of the playlists has been done without the aid of a set of headphones. And whilst that’s fine if you’re just fading from one song to the next (as I did on the predominantly Indie mix last time out), when you’re trying to beat match – as you have to with dance tunes as featured exclusively this week – that makes it really difficult.

See, the headphones are not just there so you can line up the beats, they’re also there so you can monitor the transition from one track to the next, make it as seamless as possible.

Not using headphones is not me deliberately trying to make things hard for myself, and I do own a pretty decent pair; if there’s a way that I could use headphones on the software I use I would. But as the mixes are done on my laptop as opposed to actual decks, and I haven’t managed to work out how to use headphones with the software I have, sans headphones it is.

Which also means I’m reliant on the cursor/mouse to cue, play and mix each track, as opposed to in real life where I would undoubtedly use both my hands rather than just one.

See, I’ve listened to this mix God knows how many times, and every time I have, I’ve heard one or two mixes where I think “Hmmm…I could have done that better”, have gone back and redone the whole thing, only to encounter a similar disappointment somewhere else in the mix.

I even dropped one tune from the mix entirely last night, substituting it for a different one, despite having listened to it a good three or four times in the week and deciding it all sounded, not perfect, but fine.

And I already know there’s one mix in this that I make a right hash of. You’ll spot it too, there’s no need to tell me about it.

What I’m trying to say is: be gentle with me. I don’t need to know if you think my mixing is dreadful. I’d love to know if you think it’s even…y’know…just alright.

But enough of my First World Problems: what have we got for you this week? An 80 minute mix of what we used to call ‘City Hall Classics’ back in the day, along with some Cool House End-of-Nighters (frequenters of the Cardiff clubbing scene from around twenty years ago should get both references) by way of a track which sounds like it samples voice of Shaggy from the Scooby Doo cartoons, host of American Top 40 (which used to air in the UK TVs at around 3am), and walking advert for fake tan and Just For Men hair dye, Casey Kellem, culminating in my attempt to mix “the hardest song to mix in or out of” that I mentioned last week, via one of the filthiest songs I own.

Which reminds me, I’d better slap one of these on it:

Here you go then, for the last time Volume 6 (although, as previously mentioned, I will be back next week with Volume 7):

Friday Night Music Club Vol 6.6

• Donna Summer – I Feel Love
• Drive Red 5 – Yours Sincerely, Lionel (Dirty Dream)
• Dirty – Dirty (E-Dancer Remix)
• Samantha Fu – Theme From Discotheque (Soulwax Remix)
• Mylo – Destroy Rock & Roll
• U.S.U.R.A. – Open Your Mind (Classic Mix)
• Moby – Go (Vitalic Remix)
• Underworld – Rez
• Roger Sanchez – Another Chance
• Daft Punk – Around The World [Radio Edit]
• The Chemical Brothers – Star Guitar
• Laurent Garnier – Man with the Red Face (original)
• Felix da Housecat – Silver Screen Shower Scene (Thin White Duke Mix by Jacques Lu Cont)

More soon.

Be Llŷrious

This is the series where I try to honour my recently passed best friend Llŷr by posting songs which remind me of him.

One of the shared passions Llŷr and I both had – and, I suspect many of you have too – was losing a good few hours browsing through the racks in a record store, digging out some absolute gems to buy and bring back home.

When we shared the flat of filth and, latterly, the house of no housework in the Cathays area of Cardiff, we were fortunate to have two second hand record shops within walking distance.

One was on a side road off of Albany Road; it had no name as far as I ever managed to ascertain, but it had a box of cheap, crappy vinyl left outside to entice the likes of us in.

The other was Kellys Records, located on what was commonly referred to as Death Junction because of the number of car crashes that happened there, the apex where Mackintosh Place met Albany Road met City Road met Richmond Road met Crwys Road.

We would visit there often, me losing interest long before Llŷr ever did, if I’m honest.

And he was much better at truffling out the pearlers than I was; I lost count of the amount of times he would march triumphantly through the living room door, bag of vinyl tucked under his arm, turning on the turntable and slipping his first purchase onto the deck before he’d even taken his coat off.

Today’s record is one such find.

“Jez, you have to hear this!,” he said as he burst into the living room, 12″ removed from carrier bag, disc from sleeve, onto the spindle, seemingly all in one movement, before I’d had chance to say hello and turn the TV off.

I have no idea what made him buy this, where he had heard it, or of it, prior to his purchase. As it emanated from the speakers, he was already sitting on the sofa, beaming with pride.

It’s a weird tune, and no mistake: over a proggy, dubby bassline and synth flourishes (I’m rubbish at actually describing music, I know, I know) an elderly gentleman – the titular Lionel – reads out letters written to buxom ladies who feature in the sort of adult magazine you used to find discarded in woodland, if you catch my drift. And yes, I used the word ‘titular’ with a knowing wink.

As you might expect from such a source, there’s a bit of effing and jeffing.

Whenever I hear it, I’m back in the flat of filth, and Llŷr is there, plonked in the middle of the sofa, chuckling away to himself, delighted at his latest find.

Man, oh man, I miss those days.

Drive Red 5 – Yours Sincerely Lionel (Dirty Dream)

More soon.