Glory be unto man! Grime Legend and Five Star Newham G Footsie just dropped his genere stretching ZOOT BREAK 2 project, and I am proud to announce that I produced the beautiful and evocative final song, End of The Road. Ch ch ch ch ch-ch check it out!
Download the whole projct via SBTV here. It is an amazing, highly skilled, highly accomplished and highly advanced art work. Shout out the main man Footsie, the fine folks at Braindead Entertainment (and their dope ass skull logo), and the producers behind the significant sonics that make this one of the flyest things you’ll hear all year, Skitz Beats, FuntCase, and the amazingly monckickred Filth Collins. Oh, and Footsie again of course, cos he’s a rapping producer don like me. HIGH FIVES ALL ROUND!
Stream the whole thing below, along with the sample I kicked off End Of The Road with. Oh, and here’s me and Foots’ last collaboration, the legendary WEIRD AND CREEPY!
Today I have mostly been trying to learn a piece of software Traktor, which I will be using to DJ at my little brothers wedding on Saturday, and trying to learn my Best Man’s Speech, which I’ll be using to reduce the four families to tears of joy and laughter at my little brother’s wedding on Saturday.
Well, we shall see about that. I have been rehearsing it alone with an online stopclock, and in such a context there are an awful lot of awkward silences. I wonder if there’s a laugh track app out there I could use. Not that I have a phone. My replacement HTC One X turned out to be a defective over-sensitive mardy pants into which one couldn’t even type a phone number, so I had to send it back.
Never mind that though. In other Big Ass News, we are off to see The Firstborn, AKA The Savior Of Mankind at 3, via the miracle of Hospital Scanning Technology. It’s our final scan! I wonder if the little rascal’s gonna be upside down again. He was last time, and the nurse made Charlotte jump up and down to try and get him in the correct position but he was having none of it, so she was sent down to the cafe to eat cake and drink coffee, whihc worked, amazingly enough, and we were able to acertain that he had the right ammount of heads and stuff.
Now, I say “he”, but we don’t actually know the sex, and we’re going to leave it to be a surprise, but it seems rude to reffer to The Saviour Of Mankind as “it”, and anyway, I think he’s a boy, so there.
“By the way, all babies have massive balls, so don’t get too excited,” warned Charlotte yesterday. I posted it on Twitter. “Did she have massive balls too?” quipped some wag. Oh the hilarity.
That’s me up top, by the way. “You were so ugly we had to feed you with a catapult,” said my Dad, recently. What a meanerd. I won’t say things like that to my son, oh no. And I won’t ground him and bar him from going to the school disco for eating ice cream topping out of the bottle either. I remember promising myself at the time. “When I have kids I will never do a horrible stupid thing like that!” I cried aloud in my bedroom. That boy made a lot of promises like that. Well, I haven’t let him down yet and I’m not about to start. Ale jaca est.
As the director of pretty much my favourite film (it rotates with Ferris Bueller, Alien and It’s A Wonderful Life depending on my mood), the dude changed my life forever. True Romance was the first movie I watched on my first video player in my first bedsit when I was 16, full of wonder and joy for what great romance and adventure the future would hold, and it was the last movie I watched before I got married, sat on my own in the wee hours with a jack and coke and tears streaming down my beautiful face. I quoted from it on the day of my wedding, in the speech I gave about my wife, as she danced around giddily behind me taking photos of our guests.
True Romance is, in my humble opinion, one of those consciousness shifting Alchemical Great Works, like those of Shakespeare and Da Vinchi. It changed the way I saw the world, and my potential within it. It gave colour and sound and form to things I’d always felt, and the inspiration to realise them in 3D.
Right! My bag of tricks is packed, my ride is here, and I am off north to host the Virgin Media Our House PARTY SPOT at V Festival North for the second year running. POW!
Last year was so successful they’ve multiplied the potential party scope of this by three times, AND I’ve been commissioned to make a visual movie film record of the proceedings, so Mighty Tom Coles and Benson are in tow with cameras and lights and tripods and things to document the proceedings. Turn up and help us make a beautiful artwork!
Once again the Clash DJs will be rocking the living crap out of the place, while I leap up and down on the spot for two days straight, popping back to my Nan’s house to sleep when it gets past cinderella time. I am excited, and while I am leaving my wife alone with the tummy wriggler, I did build us a new bed last night, so there is balance in the universe. This is a momentous moment in our family history – our first brand new bed and mattress! The last one we found behind the bins outside, after wishing for a replacement for the spring-burst death trap that came with our rented accommodation. That hulking great we found behind the bins was not the cleanest looking sleeper in the world, but it was a step up at the time. Over the years it deteriorated to a level of outright back breaking hostility, of course, but now, in this auspicious year of our Lord 2012 AD, our family can afford to buy brand new king sized beds with comfy and firm mattress and John lewis pillows. It is a joyous time, and proof that hard work, consistence, and a dogged refusal to give up and get a Proper Job pays off.
Right, see you at our House! I’ll be the one in the Super Mario lounge pants leading the crowd in prayers to the internet. Keep an eye on the Blob Blog – I’ve routed my instagram to there, so you’ll be able to see what I’m up to. it’s gonna fuck up the front page, as I haven’t sussed how to auto generate thumbnails, but we will have to live with that. Let us boogie!