Once, I did music that I still think could be important, not majorly, but locally. When local guys do local stuff and it’s vital it is important. I feel that way, that my music has to be part of what’s going in the city right now.
I want to be part of the city, I want to be part of what’s happening right now, that’s why I make beats.
You can always talk, and I’m thankful for that but maybe one day, no one will listen.
But for now, as long as I accept that I am Auckland, I must continue.
I must recognise the vibe that that comes from, of old grey lynn, of old real vibes that exist from when it was important, those vibes don’t die specifically because there are young dudes who think that it matters.
As long as it matters, it matters.
Maybe carefully and delicately I incubate myself, I prepare for regeneration, perhaps in a weirdly literal way.
I return as a new generation.
But I thought the music I did, and I can do, was important locally in that it was worth doing. It was saying something I can’t quite articulate here about certain qualities and realities.
And as I mentioned in the last post, I must make my blog more serious, in terms of actually connecting with people because outside of that – well, none of the art I do will ever take on any further importance than what I ascribe to it.
And I won’t likely get any gigs out of this either.
But it is more serious if I really do do business and I really do play the game, and I really do make my beats and it’s part of one expression.
I chose business, and I chose to be what I am.
If that makes me less of a DJ or a producer then so be it.
But if it makes me better, then watch out.
People just want to connect with something that means something to them.
Compilations and stuff I did or was involved in, that was important, and parties too, and parties I went to when I was younger, they were important.
The future is a bubbling cauldron of millions of variables, a million people going about their lives, but one day those things will be that which is treasured in the past.
I can’t leave this existance without saying something of it.
I was young, and I was free. There was a depth to life, that was in the city. There were possibilities, there was hope.
But the young and the inexperienced, and the desperate and the demanding, they will have their lessons doled out. Their fate will be sealed, they will be instructed as their destiny unfurls, revealed only slowly in details to be pondered over endlessly as this momentum comes to a rest.
And I think again of those grabbing thoughtlessly for fame, youth, admiration – this story of the age, the tragic journey of the individual into the sunset of their evolutionary resting point.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls, yo!
This is the story.
I realised it, it stirred in me, I struggled and sometimes managed to define it and understand it but it at times swirled around me uncontrollably, and so these are my attempts to control it.
I knew no better. All I had was a feeling and I wondered after it. But I know it, because I’ve seen and heard it in my work. That’s why I know I must dig deep to rediscover it.
I don’t believe it’s about just being young and stupid, maybe it is about comprehending a great power beyond yourself, the power of the world to shape your path.
What choice can you possibly make? What is wisdom when anything could happen?
Minute empires can rise and be crushed by hammer blows in seconds.
That is the power of the unwritten story.
That is the power of possibility.
There is something to be said of the people that want, and the things you find when searching for something else.
How do you express those feelings?
How do you express the possibility of youth? Or the is it just the viewpoint of understanding something more powerful could exist and be grasped at, that the possibilities of mystery and intrigue and adventure exist, not in some video game or the latest movie, but in real life.
Maybe it still presents the challenge that the dreams of younger man could one day become reality, or of a million stories that could be told, even if only dreamed, or of accepting that afterall, the world didn’t change, but you did.
Dark streets, secrets, journeys in your mind, moments lost and found, real or imagined, dreamed or forgotten.
