Lag Ja Gale Remix Mp3 31l
Roseanne Devon
Margie Borschke's book opens up with an anecdote that jogs the memory of the reader. Contextualizing the impetus for This Is Not a Remix: Piracy, Authenticity and Popular Music, Borschke narrates the 2012 arrest of Megaupload founder Kim Dotcom and the ultimate downfall of the file-sharing site that was a popular music download source. This narrative decision sets the stage for the rest of the book and offers key context that often falls by the wayside in current discourses of popular music. In the age of music streaming, tales of torrents past must be attended to if we are to understand the ways in which popular music is engaged with today, and Borschke takes on this task, tracing a current similar to those in Aram Sinnreich's (2010) Mashed Up or David J. Gunkel's (2016) Of Remixology. Borschke argues that if we are to more fully understand what it means to "remix," a term that has been popularized to mean something akin to Henry Jenkins' (1992) articulation of "participatory culture," more work must be done to chart the term's lineage beyond its colloquial usage denoting the sense of collective engagement online. Thus, even before diving into "remix," she articulates the notion of "copy" itself. This Is Not a Remix guides the reader from the birth of "romantic ideals about authenticity and originality" (p. 15) up to the state of the streaming age with an eye toward how conceptions of music-making have changed, but also how they have at their core stayed the same.
Picking up where Rina left off with the release's video in February, Activia Benz associate Toby Gale has taken to the dials for a remix of Rina's original version. Master of wild arpeggios and a hyper-real, super-charged sound, he's has previously remixed the likes of Kero Kero Bonito and produced the pumping Honey Soaker alongside Iglooghost late last year. Following the release of last week's 'DNA Party' EP on Apothecary Compositions, Toby takes it down a notch on Where U Are, adding an extra injection of sparkle to Rina's signature blend of "twinkle heavy R&B".
Jeff Noon first came to the public's attention as Britain's first cyberpunk with the surrealist science fiction novel Vurt, in which desperate urban dwellers enter a virtual world by sucking on feathers. Noon has since shown himself to be a writer of wild imaginative range, one who hopes to shed the science-fiction label so that he may be viewed as an experimental writer. Noon has taken advantage of his interest in music, especially the punk and techno music of Manchester, his birthplace, to showcase one possible route to new literary forms. Cobralingus, Noon's eighth work, pushes music as a source of inspiration for literary creation. Noon adapts the techniques of electronic dance music to generate texts, which he calls "metamorphiction" and "dub fiction." In dub, musicians remix recorded material to create new pieces, adding new layers of sound, removing tracks, and changing arrangements. The process is extended in the way a DJ mixes samples. Applying these ideas to language, Noon "samples" literary texts (Dickinson, Shakespeare, Zane Grey) and nonliterary texts (street names, race cards, a shipping forecast), then modifies them through various imaginative "filter gates" (such as "decay," "overload," "randomise," "search & replace," and "find story"). The result is a group of ten experimental pieces with names like "Bridal Suite Production" and "Dubchester Kissing Machine." There are echoes of Burroughs/Gysin's cut-up method, surrealist automatic writing, and, most prominently, the Oulipo's literature of constraint. Many of the pieces take on a visual form reminiscent of concrete poetry, which is enhanced by the inclusion of illustrations by Daniel Allington, adding image to the mix of text and music. Noon has long identified himself as an "avant pulp" writer who aims to fuse avant-garde and popular forms. In Cobralingus he's definitely created an experimental work you can dance to.
By Ezra Gale There's a running debate in DJ culture about the relative
merit of remixes. One faction thinks that remixes are tired,
unnecessary regurgitations; the other side holds the best of
them up as art forms in their own right. New York organ trio
Medeski, Martin & Wood's new "Combustication Remix" EP -- a
collection of trip-hop influenced mixes of tunes released on
their 1998 album -- lands right in the middle of the
squabble. Naysayers can point to the last track,
experimentalist Bill Laswell's "Satan's Church of Hypnotized
Logic," a pointless 10-minute version of "Church of Logic"
where Laswell does little more than add reverb and ambient
washes. It's danceable, sure, but so is the original.
MMW have put themselves through the remix treatment before.
"Shack Man" (1996) yielded the "Bubblehouse" EP, a batch of
remixes by relatively obscure artists like Logic and DJ's
Olive and Loop that proved that the trio were willing to
expose themselves to a more experimental form than what
appears on their albums. The "Combustication Remix EP"
continues that trend, and aside from serving up versions
that in the best cases are more engaging than the original,
they also manage to lord over a referendum that resoundingly
backs the remix itself.