Vampire Weekend, photo by Steve Louie

What began as a rainy day left nothing but the lovely scent of damp pine as Vampire Weekend and Beach House were greeted back to Vancouver for the first of two flawless sunny nights at Malkin Bowl. The Dum Dum Girls stoically swaggered through their cover of the Rolling Stones “Play With Fire.” These beer-swilling girls embody bona fide rock. Their slick, reverb-soaked pop cut through the early crowd of teenagers.

As Beach House took the stage, the hipsters moved in temporarily taking over the gaggles of teens. Through a heavy veil of bangs, singer Victoria Legrand enraptured the audience with “Used to Be.” After their third song she teased the happy but mellow crowd for looking very relaxed, before breaking into “Norway.” Flashing double peace signs and robot arms throughout, Legrand finally warmed them up, proving her virtuosity as a front woman. The highlight of the night was “Zebra,” when the last of the summer sunshine mixed with the pulsating yellow stage lights, creating a perfectly wistful atmosphere.

In their first night back on tour after a three-week rest, Vampire Weekend started with a few numbers from their newest album Contra before riling the crowd up into a full sing-along with “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa.” While they sounded clean and catchy from the get go, it wasn’t until half way through the show that they pushed passed their studio sound and got a real dance party going. During “Cousins,” even the drunk frat bros and sorority sisters took a break from taking Facebook pictures long enough to acknowledge the music emanating from the stage. I’ve rarely seen a happier bassist than Chris Baio who unabashedly danced and grinned his way through the entire set. The band debuted “I Think Ur A Contra” live for the first time, beautifully encompassing the amphitheatre with what sounded like a whale song before plunging it into total darkness. Closing with a raucous encore of “Walcott,” complete with Jerry Lee Lewis piano stylings, a happy crowd was turned loose into Stanley Park.

Singer/guitarist Jeremy Allingham’s loose and dirty bad-child guitar and leathery voice play centre to a tight as hell band that creates good gritty music for the rocker in us all and as far as shameless rock records go, As Long As You Don’t Get Caught is good as gold.

Purple Rhinestone Eagle is a three-piece based out of Portland, Oregon. The band consists of Andrea Genevieve (guitar, vocals), Morgan Ray Dennis (bass, backup vocals) and Ashley Spungin (drums, backup vocals). The three ladies work together to create magic reminiscent of heavy and fuzzed-out ‘70s rock ‘n’ roll, namely, Black Sabbath.

Not only are all nine songs on The Great Return perfectly executed, but they are perfectly written. Some bands seem to know the secret of song writing, and PRE is not exempt. Their live shows are full of energy and no one watching can help but let the sounds wash over them as they fade into oblivion. The album hardly differs. I suggest you conjure up this LP as soon as humanly possible. With one dose, you will be hooked.

Photo by Robert Fougere

Restaurant

“From the day Budgie’s Burritos [44 Kingsway] opened I’ve been filling my gullet with refried beans and tofurkey sausage and have never once looked back. You can’t argue with reasonably priced burritos the size of a newborn baby. Now that they’re licensed, I’ll probably be spending much more time. Best place in the city to hear Black Sabbath and eat Mexican food.

Sometimes I feel like every waking moment is just waiting until the next time I can eat at Guu [838 Thurlow] again. Best izakaya in the city. Great drinks. Great food. Awesome staff. Comfortable but fast-paced atmosphere. Perfect place to eat for going out on a drunken night.”

Record Store

“Picking a favourite record store is like picking your favourite child, you do it but you never tell anyone.”

Other Store

“Solder & Sons [247 Main] is a cafe and bookstore. The proprietor, Rob, is always great for a book recommendation, conversation or a cup of coffee. They carry a bunch of zines and limited pressed vinyl from local artists and bands too!”

Venue

“The Astoria [769 East Hastings]. I have had many venues over the years that were more like club houses than they were bars. Currently, the Astoria is my hangout. I like seeing shows here. It’s comfortable.”

Bar

“Six Acres [203 Carrall]. Let’s be honest, most of you guys reading this are probably going to end up at the Cambie just like every other 19 to 21 year old who’s new to Vancouver. I did it when I moved here and it was awesome. New friends, fights, hookups, yelling, foreigners, cheap bar food, headache-inducing cheap draft. What more could you want? Well, as you get closer to 30 you can only really handle a few of those things on a work night (I usually pick ‘yelling’ and ‘foreigners’). Six Acres is one of the few bars in Vancouver that’s cool, reasonably priced and not full of idiots. With most bars in Vancouver you can only pick one of those. They also have great food and one of the biggest selections of beer in town. Check it out, but don’t ruin this place for the us on the wrong side of 25.”

Not to be Missed

“Sex—my natural inclination is to talk about places where you should have sex, but I don’t think that’s what’s expected of me. However, after careful thought, my recommendations are all places you should also have sex. So do that.

I would suggest that newcomers soak in our natural beauty sooner than later. Go check out all the beaches, do the Grouse Grind, or as I call it ‘Taking the Gondola’. Explore Queen Elizabeth Park and Stanley Park. Have sex in all of these places.

Also, go check out some of our local sports teams. You don’t even have to be a fan to get lost in the excitement of a game.”

Edo Van Breemen

Photo by Robert Fougere

Edo Van Breemen is the frontman for the Vancouver indie-jazz band Brasstronaut and co-runs the indie-label Unfamiliar Records.

Restaurant

“Sushi Yama [371 East Broadway]: why? Because it’s delicious, fresh, affordable, and very close to Main and Broadway. The vegetarian udon soup and tempura combo is absolutely the best value, healthy lunch in the city. The specialty rolls are also amazing.”

Record Store

“Red Cat [4332 Main]: why? Because they cater so well to the local music scene, are genuine and nice people who care very much about their community. No egos, just good suggestions and always a decent stock of new vinyl.”

Other Store

“Salmagundi [321 West Cordova]: this is a little antique shop in Gastown perfect for strange and fascinating mini gifts. … It’s the only place I spend money in Vancouver besides the bar and the occasional Salvation Army or record store purchase.”

Venue

“The Orpheum [884 Granville]: why? It’s one of the few places in Vancouver you can pretend to not be in Vancouver when inside. Plus they do cheap last-minute Vancouver Symphony Orchestra tickets on Saturday nights for students.”

Bar

“Alibi Room [157 Alexander] … OK, so really these aren’t party bars, but I love a good pint of speciality beer. Alibi Room is conveniently located at the foot of Main Street near Gastown and offers a great selection of micro brewery casks and bottles. You can get a four-beer taster for $9 and the food is also good.
The Wolf & Hound [3617 West Broadway] has immense novelty value for me. Go there on a Friday or Saturday night during the school year and watch a bunch of wasted frat boys ‘n’ girls twirling around to the Irish dude doing just about any acoustic guitar bar-worthy cover you can imagine. It’s close to UBC and seems to be one of the more authentic Irish pubs around. It’s real, but in a different kinda way.”

Not to be Missed

“During the summer: go to Wreck Beach (www.wreckbeach.org) and swim naked. Seriously. Get over yourself and do this. Say hello to Alonso Wang, local musical celebrity.”

Dandi Wind

Photo by Robert Fougere

Dandi Wind performs with her homonymous industrial dance band and as the other half of electro-disco band Fan Death

Restaurant

“My fav restaurant is Nuba [1206 Seymour / 146 East 3rd / 207 West Hastings], delicious authentic Lebanese food with a slight Mexican twist.

Record Shop

“The coolest record shop in Vancouver is Zoo Zhop [223 Main]. You can find limited edition records of exciting bands from around the world and also great local music. They also sell vintage and local designer’s clothing. And chocolate bars, and dead-stock rock pins. When you’re there ask David to show you his original hand-printed Lucifer Rising poster!”

Other Store

“Stinky Thrift Store [3606 West Broadway] [ed. Actually, this is an SPCA Thrift Store] at Alma and Broadway is a cool place to check out. Go in on Monday or Tuesday and say hi to “Charlie!” If you are new to the city it’s a great place to pick up cheap furniture or household goods. Back in the day it really stunk in there but they’ve cleaned it up and it’s not as bad anymore.”

Venue

“The best play to see live music, theatre and art shows is Little Mountain Gallery [195 East 26th Ave]. It’s a really special, intimate artists’ run space with hardwood floors, white gallery walls and a cute little stage. There’s always something exciting happening so check out the schedule at littlemountaingallery.com “

Not to be Missed

“The Rio Theatre [1660 East Broadway] on Broadway and Commerical screens classic cult and horror films every Friday night at midnight! They have cheap beer and cocktails deals too so you can drink while you watch.”

Photo by Jonathan Taggart, jonathantaggart.com

The whole project was Fisher’s brainchild: he had already experienced touring by bicycle. In 2002 he cycled from Seattle to Halifax to promote his first album. Fisher came up with the idea in January and initially wrote a proposal only to Said the Whale and Hannah Georgas, who were excited and in immediately. “I thought it was awesome,” Bancroft said. “[Just like] a camping trip with buddies and then playing shows.” Knight was eventually invited by Bancroft, who put out Knight’s new album Versicolour on his own label, Adventure Boys Club, in March. “I wanna be there!” was Knight’s immediate reaction, he said over the phone. And his addition to the group was an excellent idea, according to Fisher: “It’s been such a great group dynamic [...] after every show people would say to me, ‘I’ve never heard of Aidan before but I really liked his sense of humour and the songs were amazing.’”
Rumour has it though that not everybody was as enthused when they first heard of Fisher’s plan and that people even got yelled at. Said the Whale’s bass player Peter Carruthers had never learned how to ride a bike, Bancroft confessed, and was “dead set against it.” But the upshot of his refusal was that he would drive their tour van, which was needed for transporting heavier instruments such as the drums.

To completely abandon any motorized vehicles didn’t seem possible, but Knight said he’d be open to using trailers next time in order to be even more self-contained.

Cycling for promotion is certainly a nice idea, but how about cycling in everyday life? According to Bancroft they all use their bikes regularly. Knight doesn’t have a driver’s licence, so he rides his bike everywhere, “regardless,” as does Georgas (who said in a phone interview that she’d fallen victim to Vancouver bike thieves for the third time now). And admittedly “it’s a great way to drink and drive,” Bancroft says, but of course none of them ever did that.

For bigger projects like this, equipment is key. They not only bought new bikes, but Bancroft for example got himself a pair of bike shorts and baby powder, “to treat the junk well.”

The group got sponsored by North Park Bicycles in Victoria and some of the musicians are now planning on reselling their bikes. If you’re interested in official preowned Malahat Revue bicycles you should drop by North Park.

As a not so experienced bicycle rider one might wonder how it feels to play a show after having cycled 55 kilometres with the sun beating down on you. “I would call it easy. I think it’s probably easier than having sat in a van for nine hours which is what the scenario usually is,” Bancroft said. “The difference between being cooped up in a tour van and getting to ride your bike and you feel like your blood’s been pumping all day and you don’t feel like you’re just a fat-ass, gaining weight all day, that was amazing.”
“It’s energizing,” Fisher added. But “don’t be afraid of SPF 50!” Knight warned.

One of Bancroft’s and Knight’s big don’ts while cycling is listening to your earbuds. This was not equally shared by everybody in the group and Bancroft admitted that he was worrying for the others’ lives every day. Fisher and Bancroft insisted on being confidential here and not telling who was “plugged in the entire time” but were at least so kind as to disclose that “she” listened to Peaches and that “Her name starts with H and ends with annah Georgas.” In a later phone interview Georgas explained somewhat bashfully that the music just made her so much faster, which could be confirmed by Knight, who called Georgas and Spencer Schoening of Said the Whale the “go-getters” of the tour, their secret being a cocktail of Caribou, Midlake, Peaches and Local Natives.

There was no general consent on the best stop. According to Knight their funnest concert was in Victoria, possibly because of the prank they played on Georgas when all of a sudden the whole band played her song “The Deep End” in reggae style. “They are funny,” Georgas admitted, who ended up being a target of the group’s japes more than once. In Roberts Creek they unplugged Georgas’ amplifier, leaving her mute, and finished the song by blowing into accurately filled water bottles. Bancroft was overwhelmed after every single concert, thinking it to be the best of the tour. Looking at it this way, their show at the Folk Fest inevitably must have been the highlight of their tour. After seeing them perform that evening I’d say this could definitely be true.
All members of the project knew each other before through some way or another, and had even performed together. Said the Whale’s rhythm section had backed Georgas on her tour last fall, and Fisher had toured with her before as well. Therefore practicing didn’t take more than three or four days, Fisher said. “The bulk of it was learning mine and Aidan’s songs but that came together pretty quickly.” They learned two hours worth of music, yet Fisher feels they missed out on many good songs, just because there is too much. “But I guess that’s a reason to do another tour.”

When the interview was almost finished, I asked for their future plans. Fisher is getting ready to bring out a new album in the fall and will do some “conventional touring,” as will Georgas this fall, while Said the Whale and Aidan Knight participated in the Peak Performance Project at the end of August. And then Bancroft added, “Directly after this show? I’ll ride my bike home.”

The opening track, “Can’t you see” has Arcade Fire overtures, the squeaky, grinding guitars and violin backing up distorted, Brian Wilson-like, vocals. With atmospheric, dense sounds, it belongs on a film score.

The instrumental tracks are superior to the vocal tracks but only by an inch. They seem to take you away to another desolate, ghost like space. In some ways Women are reminiscent of Glasgow’s Mogwai. It is that same sound that can be so deceptively simple but still completely overwhelming.

With a great melody and an easy beat, “Eyesore” is one of the best tracks on the album. “Bell” is another piece that would be best served in a David Lynch film. Beautiful but just a little creepy.

Definitely an album to be played in the wee hours of the morning. But be careful kids, this one gets real dark on you.

Illustration by Karlene Harvey

Welcome to the 33rd annual Vancouver Folk Music Festival, where it is proven year in and year out that white people cannot dance.
The first Folk Fest I attended was in 2003. Like countless other first-time Folkies in their teens and early twenties, I lived in a big, run-down house in Point Grey, where my friends and I dreaded each other’s hair, hosted all-night dance parties and wore skirts over our pants. We all saved up to buy weekend passes to the Festival. Michael Franti came into the audience and gave us hugs. We only wore shoes when it was time to use the Porta Potty. We swam topless. Ani DiFranco played, and after the lanterns led us out of the park, we stayed out dancing at the beach-side drum circles for hours. It was perfect.

I went other summers, but eventually the music started to sound the same. I left town and then came back, and festivals like Music Waste were where the interesting work was happening, where the city was being re-calibrated. But this year I went back.

The Festival itself was lovely. Every volunteer was smiling, whether he or she was overseeing the bike lockup, pouring beer or making sure people put their garbage in the right container. The whole park was thick with a loopy feeling of contentment. Within an hour of arriving on site I was carrying my shoes around while I walked barefoot. Musical performances were consistently strong: on Friday the Avett Brothers had the crowd dancing to their appealing bluegrass pop. They were followed by Calexico, whose generous, textured set sounded over a setting sun and then over the hand-made lanterns that wended their way through the park.

The main stage isn’t used during the day, but the acres of park are full of empty Festival homesteads, squares of blankets and tarps punctuated by beach bags and coolers or men prone in the heat of day. The action is on the workshop stages, where musicians were billed together in short programs. Canadian acts Timber Timbre and the Deep Dark Woods were standouts.

This year the crowd consisted largely of young people who—like me in university—want to be part of a bigger movement, as well as older people who remember when they felt like they wanted to be part of something bigger.

I don’t want be unrealistic about what went on in the heyday of folk music, or idealize Baez and Dylan playing together at the March on Washington. But the thing is, it’s a collective ideal: folk music was music of the people and for the people, and it was the most precise tool for changing minds by changing hearts.

Folk music is the soundtrack to those bigger things, be they peace, be they love, be they community. It has, for as long as it’s been around, occupied a space between activism and escapism. It is, by definition, the music of the people. Along the way it’s picked up a political charge: think the Civil Rights movement, think protest music in the ‘60s, think Haight-Ashbury and San Francisco free love. The music wasn’t isolated to gated festivals.

Despite the kilometers of fencing around the Festival, the unmistakable spirit of change, shared politics and community is still alive and well in 2010, despite—or maybe because of—the comfort and easy privilege of us attendees. But as the years passed in my life, I grew up to recognize that the Vancouver Folk Music Festival was only one small part of a much larger puzzle. Change is hard, because when it’s real, it’s the result of a great deal of time, compromise and struggle. Maybe the Festival reminds us of what we’re working for—or maybe it’s simply an escape.

And that it does well. The Folk Festival is a diverse, accessible and gated oasis. Geographically, nothing changes year to year: everything from the coffee cart and the yam fry shack, to the weird hat table and the people doing Tai Chi on the pathway stay in the same place. Each year the organizers book an international roster of gifted and eclectic musicians—yet the music weaves into the consistency of the feel. The sameness is part of the draw, of course—like Christmas for suburban families, veteran folkies affectionately infuse their Folk Festival pilgrimage with a great deal of tradition. People come every year and they expect the same experience. It stays the same while you change.

As Saturday sunset crept on and Sarah Harmer started up on the main stage, I remembered myself so many years ago, and thought about everything that has changed since then. Her set was long and energetic and included older hits like “Basement Apartment” and “Pendulums,” and songs from her well-reviewed new album, Oh Little Fire. Harmer is one of the most lovely and charismatic artists in Canada, and despite the size of the crowd, her show felt intimate. Just like when I was 20, I was surrounded by my friends and everything felt right.

A bit later the lanterns came out and we got back on our bikes to head home. I’m told that Sunday was lovely too. Then it ends. Then, the smiling volunteers and the fence guys and the portable toilet guys and the stage guys, who were probably not smiling, took it all down and away. Just like that, the better world was gone. The students went back to their ramshackle Kitsilano houses and the aged hippies went back to Kerrisdale or North Van. If you ask them, they will tell you that the Folk Fest was wonderful, because it was. And then life went on much as it always did.

Illustration by Lindsey Hampton

DJ Tameil is one of the most highly respected Baltimore Club producers. A prolific producer and active DJ, he performs at the hottest parties in the USA and Europe. Discorder was lucky enough to catch him the first time he was in Canada. In this in-depth interview, he talks about the over 60 member Baltimore-based DJ crew Brick Bandits starting up, dubstep, DJing with cassette decks, Wikipedia, amateur DJs flooding the internet and being Redman’s neighbour growing up.

Discorder: So I read you were Redman’s neighbour?
DJ Tameil: Yeah, we’re sorta like cousins but not cousins, you know. It was because we grew up together. His mother is like my grandmother’s sister, you know. It’s just like a big family thing, even though we’re not family. [He] pretty much taught me how to DJ before time, you know I was about seven years old, and it was the first time that I was ever actually on the stage in front of a crowd, at my uncle’s wedding, and I played EU’s “Doin da Butt.” … Once I got the crowd response from that, it was just like, in my mind, “Wow! You know I could actually be a DJ!”

D: You used to use tapes, you used to break the doors off cassette players right?
T: Oh yes, I could tell you a long story about that. I actually have somebody that’s outdone me, but yeah, I used to break the tape doors off the radios and just slow the tapes down with my fingers so that I could get a good mix, and I would record the mix with another radio … It was just so much, man! I would end up with like three different radios just so I could get everything right. One to cue the records up, one to play and one to record. … You gotta do what you gotta do!

D: So can you tell us about the Brick Bandits crew, what that’s all about?
T: Oh the Brick Bandits crew was… OK I’ll give you a little history on that. Yeah, you know, for a few years before that, you know, I used to be the known guy around Jersey, you know, when it came to Chicago Juke music, I was the man to go to, because you know, I used to get all the records before everyone else. So they knew me to be the go-to guy and then I got introduced to some of the guys from Baltimore that [were] producing, and at the time I was young, so you know, they weren’t really accepting me but I was buying all their records. After a while they saw that I was really serious, and I was producing Baltimore-style tracks and bringing it to them, and they’d listen to it and they’d be like “OK, you definitely got a different style, you add a little bit more to it.” They gave me their blessings to bring it back to Jersey, and that’s when I created the Jersey side of it, which I call Brick City Club music; but it’s still Baltimore Club music, you know. That’s where it came from. You know then after about a few years, I would say around maybe 2002, and I met these guys Tim Dolla, Mike V, Black Mike, and you know, it was a couple of guys in the crew but actually what happened was I had the whole scene on lock and they knew that they had to come through me to get known by everybody else. So actually what happened was I had a vinyl that I pressed up myself, I had started my own label, Anthrax Records. And to me, well, I listen to it to this day, and this probably happens with everybody—I can’t stand those records! I can’t stand them. You know, I listen to the way I produce now, and the way that I did then. My sound then was so flat! But I guess they saw that side of it, and they decided to attack it.

D: The Baltimore people you mean?
T: No no no, the Brick Bandits! So they’re also from Jersey. OK, so what happened was they decided to attack that, and I had a lot of CDs out at the time, so they put out one CD, I guess it was like one or two guys that had stands that I actually bought from them, so I just happened to be blasting my music on my stand one day, and I heard a guy down the street, and all I heard was “eeexcluusiiive!” That was the Brick Bandits drop at the time! So after I heard that, I turned mine down, and I’m listening, and I heard one of my records playing at first. And I was like “Oh cool!” you know, “Somebody else bought my record!” So all of a sudden, you know, it was just like a record scratching “rrrrrrip!” and then you heard some laughing and everything like that, so I was like “Wait a minute!” I went and got the CD, I was listening to it myself, so I called the number that was on the bottom of the CD. I was like, “What the hell, that was supposed to be a diss towards my music?” And the guy on the phone… deep voice, he’s just like “Yeah! Yeah mothafucka yeah!” I’m like “What the hell?” That was Mike V of course! [laughs] Mike V is like Debo! Mike V actually reminds you of… you ever seen Everybody Hates Chris, the father on it? The big guy! That’s who he looks like, and we crack on him about that all the time, but instead of us taking it to a level where, you know, it would get like stupid and everything like that, because we had a lot of teenagers [as fans], and we still do these days. We try to look like big brothers and sisters to them, so you know, it would be stupid for us to go back and forth and create a scene where they would think that it’s something more than it is, so we decided to put all of that aside, and come together as a team, you know. And to this day we just have a huge family. We don’t even really call it a team or anything like that anymore. We just call it a family, because that’s actually what it is, you know, it’s a family.

D: So you were already highly respected because of the Chicago Juke thing?
T: Yeah, it was that first, and then it went on to the Baltimore stuff because, you know, I was producing that at the time, and I was the only guy doing it. Yeah I was the only guy doing the Baltimore sound, and that sound was growing at the time in Jersey, you know, because they were buying the records from the store down there, Music Liberated, which the guy Bernie, rest in peace, he died in a car accident, but he had everything. He was the man to go to. Just like they had Barnie’s records in Chicago [which] was putting out all of the juke music. He was the man for Baltimore Club because he was the man with the money that was putting out all of the vinyls like every week. So yeah, everybody was buying from this guy, and pretty much the scene was really growing in Jersey at the time, and being that I was the guy that was producing that everybody knew at the time—plus I had the Chicago side; it was just like, wow, I was just the man not to be messing with, and they knew that. That’s why they tried to come at me so that I would actually say their names and blow them up, but it went the opposite way. But we formed a family after that.

D: I also picked something up, you’re about to work on something in Chicago called “It’s About Time Records?”
[Brad's note: the label is now officially called "Ghettophiles."]
T: Yeah, actually there’s this guy in Chicago named Neema. He started this new record label, which is… actually this is a good thing because now that I met him, I ran into a lot of the cats from Chicago that I used to look up to, and he introduced me to some of them. And … afterwards, after I just did this tour in Europe, and the United Kingdom, I was with these two guys from Chicago named DJ Rashad and DJ Spinn, and actually we’re about to work on a joint venture that will cross the two, and this is gonna be big, man, it’s gonna be big! [laughs]

D: So what new music styles are you feeling now?
T: Oh, new music styles. They might not be so new, but they’re new to me. Ok, I would have to say electro for one… and dubstep! Dubstep has grown on me in the past year and a half. Like, I love it! I can’t stay away from it now, and it’s funny because the area where I’m from, it used to be open, like when there was just the huger DJs’ names around, like there were ones before me, like Cool Lou and a few others, but at the time you know… I think this happens everywhere. I think it pretty much happens everywhere, where nowadays you have DJs that just can’t DJ at all. And everybody wants to be a DJ just because they get their hands on a piece of equipment or a program and this and that, and you know they really can’t do anything! [laughs] But actually how that goes is, my area is so stuck right now, to one or two styles of music. They don’t like to listen to anything outside of what they know, so when I’m riding down my street they see my BMW coming down the street and I got a loud system. I got a loud system in my BMW! [laughs] So I came back from Texas the year before last playing dubstep, and I still do to this day, and people were lookin’ at me like, “What the hell is that? That sounds like transformer music!” I’m like “Open your eyes. You don’t know. You don’t know about this stuff right here, it’s huge.” But I’m hooked on it now because I’ve seen great people play it. Like I would say AC Slater. AC Slater’s great! And I’ve seen DJ Craze play it. DJ Craze and DJ Klever, like, those were the most awesome sets to me. I think that was what turned me on to it right there, you know, when I seen them play it, and then afterwards I just started to look up more tracks and it was just like, it just blew my mind, man! Jakes, I met Jakes. Jakes is one of the coolest guys ever man! [laughs]

D: Do you have any tips for anyone who wants to get into producing, any technical tips you can let us in on?
T; For producing? I would just say about my brand of music, but I’m gonna say for all brands of music right now, if you want to be involved in a certain style of music, please study it before you try to do any tracks because … you actually hurt the people that have been there before you. You know, you come out and you think you know what you’re doing, and don’t know anything about the history, so now you come out with all of these wack tracks and everything like that, and you’re flooding the Internet, you’re flooding everywhere with it. … I’m not really even going to diss a new producer like that, I’m just going to say, just study before you get into it. That’s really all I have to say about that, you know, because it’s been a big change in music lately where there’s just a lot of people that see the popularity, they see that they can get popular from it, or make money from it, or get girls that like them just because they do it, and they don’t know anything about the history at all. Like, I’ve heard a lot of false stories and you know a lot of this floats around the Internet too! Like: “Perculator came from Baltimore.” No. Perculator came from Chicago! And you know, it’s just a whole bunch of false information. I think that if people really want to know the history of a music, they should go and study it. Find out who was there first. Find out the real facts, the real truth from the people who were there, the people who did it, instead of just finding a bunch of information from places like Wikipedia … So yeah, definitely do a lot of studying before you get into it. And if you get into it, make sure your heart is into it. You know, and this is what you really want to do and, you know, cross-reference the two, man, study … You know, my practice was every day, daily. I would recommend that to everybody, too. You know, if that’s what you really want to do, then practice it every day. I ate DJing, I slept DJing, I… everything, you know. DJing.

D: And your family too, right?
T: Yeah, all of my uncles were DJs, you know. I don’t know why they gave up… [laughs]. You know I held on to it even though they gave it up, I was just telling, it’s funny I was just telling one of the old G producers that I look up to, from Baltimore, Technics, I was just telling him the other day that when my uncle, one of my main uncles that was DJing, he threw out all of his records, and put ‘em on the side of the house. I maybe was around, I probably was seven or eight years old at the time! But there was this one particular record, I knew the label of it, I just knew what it looked like. And when I seen those records out on the side of the house that day, it kinda hurt me that he stopped, but I was like, “I gotta look for that record!” It was Vaughan Mason’s Bounce Rock Skate Roll! I took that record out of the trash and I held onto it … I hid it under the couch … I just had to have it! You know, I mean… DJing just meant so much to me, you know? I just wanted to be a DJ so bad, you know, so I went through life, I remember all of the first records that I had of my own, that I used to play on my Fisher-Price turntable. Redman’s mother actually gave me a copy of James Brown’s Living in America … my mother bought me New Edition’s Candy Girl. I had Rebbie Jackson’s Centipede. Man [laughs], I remember all of that stuff! And it’s funny I can remember all of that stuff when I was so young, but you can ask me about somebody I met last week and I’m like “who?” [laughs]