Here he is back in 2004, when he was known as thesvenhunter.
And happy birthday to my uncle Maurice, the much loved comic actor!
So, we recorded an amazing mixtape, then I slept for 9 hours, then I surveyed the damage (what looked like two black eyes, for a start) and tidied up, listening to the amazing music, then I slept, the I got into some Due Commissions.
I have serious tinnitus – a massive ringing in my ears at all times, and everything I listen to sounds like it has distortion on it.
But it was well worth it.
I am sitting on a classic tape.
And it all happened live, preserved for prosperity via the magic of three webcams.
(Apart from the 2 hours of footage we lost from the early afternoon).
RAH RAH RAH!
Big up everybody!
THAT WAS AMAZING!
I must back to work.
I will write properly soon.
PEACE AND LOVE.
Yeah, that’s right.
From 3am June 23rd to 3am June 24th I will be recording ATD24, the twenty fourth mixtape in the series, which kicked off way back in May 2004 with – yes! – Akira The Don Vol. 1.
This is what I am about to email:
24 hours. 1 man, making 1 mixtape. All live online. This is ATD24 by Akira The Don. Like Jack Bauer, but with less torture.
At 3am on Wednesday 23rd June, Akira The Don will embark upon the world’s first attempt to create an entire mixtape in 24 hours, from start to finish, with the whole project being broadcast live at www.akirathedon.com.
Following on from the insanely successful ATD23: The Street Fighter Mixtape, Akira the Don will be broadcasting live from Don Studios (aka his house), letting people see the naked truth behind the creative process as he puts together ATD24, which will be released as a free download on completion at 3am on Thursday 24th June.
Very special guests will be dropping by to help out and guest on the Mixtape, including:
- Martin Carr
- Big Narstie
- Polar Bear
- Marvin The Martian
- AND MORE TO BE ANNOUNCED!
If you’d like to know more about the project or want to chat to Akira about the frankly insane task he’s putting himself through, get in touch at this email address.
Exactly. Or you could leave something in the comments. Either way, the fact of the matter is unavoidable – we’re doing this thing. We sold enough T shirts and got enough donations to buy the UStream Pro thing, that allows us to broadcast with multiple cameras in HD.
I have a rodonculous guest list, with more still to confirm, with, like, actual times for stuff to happen and everything.
I have a gang of beats, samples, snippets, slices and other-such delicious ingredients.
I have prepared my Music Machines for the mighty tasks that lie ahead of them.
James Dean Harrison is on his way round to test hooking up his fancycam for the broadcast. It is a beautiful thing, really it is. We could do with another camera actually, so any bright ideas, hit me up. I could also do with some good ideas for how best to capture audio coming in live from abroad - the problem with Skype is it upsets my clock settings (geek talk for makes things sound like chipmunks and/or Satan). I have some ideas already, but maybe you have a better one. I am not too proud to admit I when I am lacking!
And remember, I am gonna be getting you involved. Keep it locked to find out how you and your Mum can get onto this slice of HISTORY! I am scared and excited and SCARED AGAIN and worried and HYPED and CERTAIN that it will be FANTASTICAL.
Thanks everyone for their kind words regarding my last post. I am gonna have a go at that sort of writing more often, I think. The good news is my friend got out today, and is in the best shape I’ve seen him in ages. Sometimes a little time-out is all a person needs. It is my professional opinion that duke is gonna be JUST FINE, and even better than that. And never mind that glass. It’s somewhere in the middle.
(Damn! That was a tune! And you never heard it. From the great lost James Brown VS Akira The Don EP. We shall have to finish that one day. It was full of magic.)
Anyway. I better get back to prepping. There is a lot to consider. What to eat, for one. I need ENERGY. All day long. What should I be rocking, like, bananas or something?
There are two women going at it raggo outside my window. Some chump in a filthy tracksuit is half-heartedly getting in between them. “Stop it… come on, serious, stop it…” The short brunette is screaming every obscenity ever thought of at the tall blonde. She cocks her leg behind her and looks like she’s trying to take her shoe off, to strike her adversary… or maybe I am imagining that’s what she’s doing, as earlier, in the loony bin, I was reminiscing about the time Lois took off her shoe, and wrapped it around some poor bouncer’s shiny bald head.
And just like that, it is all over, and the brunette is trip-track trip-trapping back to the bus stop in the opposite direction from the blonde and the filthy tracksuit, shouting to no one in particular about Effing Bees and Cees. Half an hour later something very similar occurs, this time with two men and lady in the middle. Tonight England played football on the world stage, and failed to do anything any of us could be proud of, or inspired by. As I type, someone is getting brain damaged by Godless goons who will later weep fat bitter tears into stinking, lumpy pillows, and wank themselves into sweet oblivion.
This is England. This is where we are.
I watched the first half of the game in Hommerton Hospital’s Mental Health Ward, with one of my best friends, who has to stay there until the doctors, who are younger than him, tell him he is ready to step outside in the sunshine again. The nurses are sweet tempered and funny and patient, and the patients are on enough drugs to keep them from doing much other than pace backwards and forwards, wandering the two corridors that stick out of the over sized living room they call home like straws in a milkshake. There are three plastic sofas and and a pool table and a big ass TV in a perspex case because someone put a chair through the last one, and there’s a six inch wide wood framed window that can be opened just wide enough for the angry dude to spit out of. The half-happy, lolloping big ole white dude is called Jeremy and he hears voices in his head. He shook my hand yesterday. Today he didn’t remember me. The bushy bearded Middleeastener wears sandals and paces the halls until he is tired and sleeps on the sofa, much to the annoyance of the
Eastern European Sicillian boy who wants to sit on it. The boy has little English and an abundance of really good arm tattoo, and a face like a beacon framed by tiny curls that look like bristling flames, beneath which glower two unflinching, lazer-beam eyeballs that follow me wherever I go, and are upon mine whenever I raise my head.
My friend looked like the king of that strange, watery, bleached castle. He sat cross in the sofa directly opposite the big ass TV in the perspex case, armed with the remote control, supping from a bottle of Coke Zero and smiling. He looked the happiest I’ve seen him all year.
I watched the second half of the game in the gym, from the sweaty comfort of the running machine, and the hill climbing machine, and the Jesus machine. The gym was empty but for the staff, a wiry, red-vested Polish man who spent the whole time I was there (save the occasional visit to the water fountain) flexing the same pair of dumbbells and glaring at himself in the mirror, and a great beast of a man with a severe haircut and a gut the size of a large beanbag, who paced the running machines and terrorised the barbells until one of them snapped.
It was raining when I cycled home, and I was glad of it. Cars no longer honked their horns, and men huddled grimly in pub doorways, sucking down cigarettes like milkshakes. The England team had played like a gaggle of pampered old coots on sedatives. I knew there would be repercussions.
But when I got back I set about compiling my guest list for ATD24, emailing and calling people, whilst simultaneously gathering raw materials for the execution of the project, and reinstalling my software, which has become buggy and unreliable. It felt good to be ticking things off my list. I have two big ass whiteboards on my wall, mapping out the next 7 days in some detail, and it is helping me not to panic. The guest list is looking spectacular, and I am fucking excited. The raw materials are piling, mountainous, and my ATD24 To Sample folder glistens with emeralds and crystals and gems, like a dragons cave. When my synths have finished installing I will go to bed. I am excited about getting up, and doing more cool stuff as dictated by the wall planers, with my health and my freedom and my good fortune.
We are very close to our target now, by the way. I need to do the sums, but I think it is about $40, including VAT. And I ordered a HD webcam from Ebuyer. It arrives on Monday, in time for The Rigorous Testing. This is going to be a SHOW! And if all goes well, my friend will be there. I really hope he is. He was way up at the top of my guest list.