CRATERY

CRATERY.COM

A Dig Diary by Arcee, Kaewonder, & Dj Serious

  1. 2018-03-27

    CRATERY 88: Mr. Attic

    I first met Mr. Attic at York University’s 105.5 FM in ’95. It was my first year attending York and my favourite pastime had quickly become loitering around the campus/community radio station before, between and after classes. One of my favourite shows was called “Soul by the Pound” – a program dedicated to playing the soul, jazz, funk and rock songs that inspired the hip-hop songs of the era. Show creator Jeremy “Beatdawg” Weisfeld would blow my mind every week with source material for my favourite Pete Rock, Tribe and Large Professor songs with a level of insider knowledge I hadn’t encountered up until that point. It wasn’t long before pestering Jeremy on the phone every 5 mins for song titles turned into hanging out at the station and pestering him in person. One week I turned up and Jeremy wasn’t there. Filling in for him that week was a dude who introduced himself as Seven. He was joined shortly by an unassuming cat with a bag full of records. The gentleman introduced himself as Attic. “That’s Mr. Attic from Da Grassroots”, Seven said, chiming in quickly. Da Grassroots? Wow. I had heard of the production trio through the work they had done for Toronto hip-hop outfit Ghetto Concept, including the classic “E-Z on the Motion” which I would later find out was actually produced by Attic himself. For the next hour, I stood by the studio door as Seven and Attic killed me with records I had never heard by groups like the Nite-Liters, Delfonics, Spirit and Don Covay (I remember going nuts off the original for Pete and CL’s Lots of Lovin remix). I was rhyming at the time, so I asked for Attic’s number at the end of the show in the hopes of securing a beat from the man himself.  Suprisingly, he actually obliged. It’s important to note that Da Grassroots had already developed a bit of a reputation around the city during this time period. Ghetto Concept (along with counterparts ORB and Born II Roam) were already head and shoulders above what was happening in the city at that time. And a huge part of it was due to the production provided by Da Grassroots. The local rap showcase was particularly unforgiving to rival producers when their pithy kicks and snares were easily outclassed by the warm, comforting boom of a Grassroots riddim. Ghetto was already collectively great on the mic. But the beats made them even better. By ’95, Da Grassroots had miraculously won back to back Junos with Ghetto Concept for the independently released “Certified” and “E-Z on the Motion” singles. It wasn’t long before the trio of Attic, Swiff and Murray were becoming the stuff of legend in Toronto. My first time at Attic’s crib was, well, in a single word: overwhelming. It was the first time I had ever seen that many OG records in a single place. I had been buying bootlegs and compilations trying to get more bang for my buck and here was this dude who, in my estimation at the time, had “everything”. The only people I knew that had those kinds of crates were the big U.S. producers of that era. I hadn’t seen anything like it outside of a magazine. I didn’t even own Superman Lover by Johnny Guitar Watson at the time, so seeing records like 1619 Badass Band was overkill on my 21-year-old brain.  That night, Attic made a beat off a Mongo Santamaria record and I remember hoping he would give it to me. Not only did he not give it to me, he nearly deleted it. I was dumbfounded. I thought the shit was single worthy and this guy was ready to toss it away without a thought. That was telling. After nearly 20 years of friendship I can say without a doubt that Attic is his own harshest and most ruthless critic, the definition of a perfectionist. The next time I went to Attic’s place, I brought a friend of mine equally enthralled by sample mining: a budding producer I had met less than a year earlier by the name of Moss (featured on Cratery 33). We basically spent the entire night tapping Attic for sample knowledge. It was literally like typing searches into whosampled years before I even knew what a website was. Our holy grail? Learning that Master Ace’s “Brooklyn Battles” (a song we were both obsessed with) was a straight loop off Eddie Kendricks “If you let me”. When Attic dropped the needle on that one, we were rolling around on the ground of his bedroom like giddy little children. We couldn’t believe that we had a met a person that had so much of the knowledge we coveted so badly. After that visit, I gave all my compilations to a homie and began to focus on buying original pressings. Not long afterwards, Attic began taking Moss and I digging with him. That’s when I really started to learn how to shop for records. But he didn’t just put us on to records. He put us on to stores. The most important of which was Vinyl Museum’s Lakeshore location. The shit I personally saw Attic pull out of VM was crazy, so I can’t even imagine the level of stuff he was pulling between ’89-95. Back in ’95-96, trying to walk into a Toronto store looking for OG Donald Byrd and Roy Ayers LP’s was futile. The demand for those sorts of records was way too high at the time. But shopping for weird rock records, Canadian breaks and assorted sample fodder was still possible – especially in a store like Vinyl Museum, where it felt like almost everything had a $2.49 price tag. Attic taught us to gamble on these sorts of records. He took risks. That’s how he found stuff. And for 2 dollars a record, Vinyl Museum was a gambler’s paradise. It was, without question, Attic’s favourite place to dig. On one of my first visits to Vinyl Museum with Attic, I found a copy of Frank Motley’s “Let it Be” album. I knew it was Canadian and rare, and for only $5, I wasn’t leaving it behind. I told our Seattle homie Jake One about my come up and he offered to trade me for it in exchange for a shit ton of basic records I was thirsting for at the time like 9th Creation and Les McCann. For me, a beginner, the trade made complete sense. Especially since the Motley was fetching over $200 back then. $200 worth of beginner records for a college kid with limited cash and a digging habit was gold, so naturally, I made the trade.  Later, Attic told me that the same Frank Motley record was a spare copy that he had traded back to the store for credit. “Oh you bought that?” he asked, surprised. When I asked him why he had traded it back, he told me the open break was “noisy”. In other words, it didn’t matter if it was rare, it was useless to him unless the was the record wasn’t sonically up to his standards. Attic would rather have his $5 back than resell or trade a noisy Frank Motley joint. Again, I was dumbfounded. Evaluating a record based on its condition wasn’t even something I had thought about. I was just happy to have the original. As a producer, Attic is as carefree as he is meticulous. Blessed with an incredible ear and cursed with an attention to detail. Democratic about his record choices. And uncompromising about the sound of the final product. Attic’s signature weapon of choice throughout most of the 90’s was Ensoniq’s EPS 16+ (although he switched to the MPC 2000 later). And with it, he made some pretty legendary contributions to Toronto hip-hop around this time. “Drama” was his (and partner Swiff’s) first single under Da Grassroots moniker. I should note that sonically, this song was much different than the majority of hip hop being released in Toronto at the time, in that the mix sounded phenomenal. It didn’t sound like a local, basement record – it sounded full bodied and well rounded. This was in part, due to Da Grassroots connection to Noel “Gadjet” Campbell, an engineer with a golden ear and future Toronto legend, who was credited with the mix. No one in the city had really achieved those sort of sonics up until that point. The warm kicks, ample snares and moody rhodes on “Drama” was a milestone because it matched the quality of the sound being achieved stateside. The single did well by indie standards back then, and was even heavily bootlegged in Tokyo to try and meet the demand of the Japanese market. Attic’s continued work with Gadjet introduced him to the next wave of Toronto rappers like Saukrates, Choclair and Kardinal Offishall, all of whom have his joints in their discography, notably the latter’s “Ol Time Killin” which is an undisputed hometown classic. Da Grassroots forged a relationship with Seattle based Conception records (through our mutual homie Jake One) to release their own production-based debut album “Passage through time” in 1999, featuring a veritable who’s who of Toronto hip-hop at the time, including a debut single featuring yours truly. I was probably one of the lesser known artists on the album, but Da Grassroots always favoured the music, not the politics. Over the years, flagship Canadian artists like the Dream Warriors, Brass Munk, Thrust, IRS, Tara Chase, Marvel and Checkmate have all added Attic pieces to their discography. But his most frequent and closest collaborator remains Mr. Roam (originally of Born II Roam), whose “Postal Work”, “Price of Living”, “Groupie Central”, “System” and ultra-limited Tom Strokes album are timeless examples of Attic’s beat prowess and some of my personal favourites from his discography. But the unreleased shit is where it’s at. The good fortune of being this man’s friend has given me the chance to be exposed to countless gems at various basement sessions over the years. And let me assure you, there are plenty. For example, many would be surprised to know that Attic has nearly an album’s worth of material with Saukrates from the early to mid 2000’s which never saw the light of day. I have heard it with my own ears and it is as incredible as an Attic/Sauks collabo sounds. The Ghetto Concept album that was to follow “E-Z on the Motion” on Gr

    1h 27m
  2. 2017-07-24

    CRATERY 86: The Brazil Episode

    One of the simple pleasures of being a rap fan is the passionate level of debate and analysis you can engage in with a fellow nerd at any given moment around any given album – old or new. I definitely don’t have the same debates around Brazilian music. I rarely subject my favourite vintage records to the same level of scrutiny that I subject the music I grew up with. And the reason is simple, really. Being a first-hand witness to the rise and popularity of hip-hop culture gave me context for the significance of most records that came out during a certain era. A new rap fan might still have an appreciation for Ice Cube’s “Death Certificate” but without an understanding of N.W.A’s “Fuck the Police”, the Rodney King video or the rising level racial frustration in Los Angeles in the early 90s, some of the album’s impact might be lost. Some of us can debate the importance, significance and impact of certain records from the 90s because we were there. I can’t do that with Brazilian music from the 70s because I wasn’t there. I can certainly google Jorge Ben, Elis Regina, Azimuth or any of my favourite musicians from that era but I’m essentially relying on a simplified Wikipedia-like lens on history to give me my context. And that’s just not ideal. So my connection to the music of Brazil is based on a very simple criteria: energy. Good energy to be specific. It’s an energy I’ve connected with from the moment my father played “Chove Chuva” by Sérgio Mendes and Brasil ’66 on his Dual CS-506. And it’s an energy I connect with every time I hear the music of Gal Costa, Luiz Eça or Banda Black Rio emanating from my speakers. There’s something about Brazilian music that just makes you feel good. The moods, melody, the orchestrations, the arrangements. There’s a reason all three of us have Brazilian records in our collections. And maybe even more in our wantlists. That good energy. You don’t need to speak Portuguese to appreciate it. Hell, we’re just happy it’s around to appreciate. You could probably sum up our feelings on Brazilian music with one word: Obrigado. –ARCEE TRACKLIST 1. Lo Borges – Tudo Que Voce Podia Ser 2. Dom Salvador – Guanabara 3. Gilberto Gil – 2001 4. Jorge Ben – O Homem da Gravata Florida 5. Gal Costa – Vou Recomecar 6. Wilson Das Neves – Jornada 7. Azimuth – Faca de Conta 8. Waltel Branco – Jael 9. The Bossa Tres – Zelao 10. Tim Maia – Primavera 11. Wilson Simonal – De Noite, na cama 12. Joao Donato – A Ra 13. Milton Nascimento – Cata Vento 14. Tamba 4 – Zazueira 15. Sivuca – Inquietacao Subscribe on iTunes Download It Here! (right click > Download Linked File As…[Mac] / Save link as…[Win]) Stream: https://media.blubrry.com/cratery/www.CRATERY.com/AUDIO/Cratery_86_The_Brazil_Episode.mp3 The post CRATERY 86: The Brazil Episode appeared first on CRATERY.

    48 min
  3. 2017-06-26

    CRATERY 85: Mastersihn

    It’s funny to think I wouldn’t be typing these words right now if Kaewonder hadn’t asked me the question “Do you follow that dude @mastersihn on Instagram”? We’ve met a lot of good people online, and with a common love for good records and good smoke, Philly’s Mastersihn is definitely one of the good ones. We connected for the second time when he drove up for last year’s epic Live Convention weekend. Naturally, a Cratery episode and interview were in order. Episode audio below. I realized you were a true record nerd when you broke down the origin of your name. Mind sharing it with our readers / listeners? So the name is a nod to one of my favorite movies growing up “La Planete Sauvage”. I caught it on public access TV late night in my teens. Coming home all f****d up and finding that shit on TV was a real mind fuck. The movie and the music had huge impact on me and when I got into records it was one of the first grails I was after. I got lucky and caught a copy very early on and to this day I still consider it my favorite record of all time. The name is a play on one of the adult Draag characters in the movie who was part of the famous trippy meditation scene. I need to get a proper copy of that flick for the files, man. When did you start buying vinyl? What kind of stuff were you buying when you first started? Grew up listening to my Pops’ records and because of the generation I was in when I first started buying music for myself it was on cassette. It wasn’t until I was around 14 that I discovered the train downtown and the magic of hip hop 12″ singles. Then came jacking my Pops turntable followed by a second (direct drive) turntable and the Gemini “scratchmaster” mixer. Funny I had a similar start. Straight cassettes. Particularly because I took the bus everywhere and I needed my music to be Walkman friendly. I feel like there was a point when my taste began to mature a little and I wasn’t necessarily chasing the same exact records I was after when I started. Did you experience a similar shift? [Laughs] Honestly, I’m real slow to mature, so I’m still chasing the kind of shit I was when I first started in some regards. For example: a wicked drum break still gets the juices flowing even though I have thousands already and highly doubt I’m going to make super producer status anytime soon. So basically, if there was any shift it was towards really good records that I don’t have to get up off the couch after one track and change. But that could be an indication of getting old and lazy more so than my musical taste maturing, I dunno. You and me both [laughs]. That’s kind of the impetus behind Cratery to be honest. But I’m still hip-hop. I just bought a monster break on the weekend. I guess that never goes away. Your hometown spots like Funk-O-Mart are the stuff of legend. What was it like digging in Philly back then? One of the most amazing, life-changing discoveries for me in my early teens was the train into the “Gallery” mall downtown.  You could get off the train in the basement of the mall, come up, fuck around in the mall, buy gear and shit, then when you hit the streets the real fun began. Philly in the early 90’s was off the fucking chain! Wild shit going on everywhere from street vendors selling bootleg everything, from music to what ever the fashion trend at the moment was and people hustlin’ everything everywhere. 3 card monte, weed, women, fake jewelry – you name it. When you came out of the Gallery you would come up on Filbert Street and walk right across the street to Armand’s records. Then after that you walk 1 block down to Market street and hit Funk O Mart. When you were done there, you’d walk half a block back down to 11th and hit the Sound Of Market. I called it the vinyl triangle. I was always operating on slim funds (usually saved up lunch money) so if I had anything left by the time I got to the third shop it was a miracle. Sadly, I didn’t make the most of my time and money in those shops cause at the time I remember seeing all the local indie rap shit on the shelves and laughing like “yo who’s wasting their money on that shit when you could get this new Craig Mack 12″!!!” Also I’m sure all three shops were packed to the gills with all the indie boogie and modern soul and gospel that goes for crazy loot these days. When you were in town for our Live Convention show back in November, you talked a little about the competitiveness to get records in Philly even for the average digger – and how Toronto seemed more casual in that respect. Can you expand on that? Nowadays, Philly is a very strange place to buy records. They’re here but everybody knows that we’re a huge destination for anybody who’s really on this record shit and it’s been that way for way longer than I’ve been in the game. It hasn’t tapered off a bit over the years, really. We’re talking well over thirty years of people coming from all over the world with the single goal of extracting the city’s natural vinyl resources and most of them come a few times a year. So that’s taken a major toll to the point where there are lots of private press Philly records that don’t show up in the city at all anymore and you have a better chance getting them from sellers overseas. That, combined with the awful store situation we have here. They’re almost all basically buying fronts for eBay and discogs. It’s like it was a reaction to so many people coming here to buy that all the stores got greedy and went the same route. You know the look on the face of a record store owner when they see another dealer gripping their stuff up without hesitation they get that look of panic in their eyes like “Oh no, I’ve made a mistake”. Next thing you know, all the new arrivals are getting listed on discogs for crazy prices and only make it to the shop if they don’t sell online. My beef is you set up a store in a community to service that community and of course make money while doing it, not taking advantage of a community and then denying any actual real collectors in the city a shot at stuff because of the hope you can squeeze a couple extra bucks out of it online. Sure in the short term you could probably make a few extra dollars online but that person isn’t coming to your store and buying other shit while he’s there to grab that record and he’s not telling their friends who come into town “yo you need to check out his spot!”. If you want to sell online, close your shop run an ad in the paper and don’t waste my time coming in your shitty shop with the same stale bins and permanent wall display just so you can show me the good shit you got behind the counter that your listing online. Seriously go fuck yourself!!!!!  In Toronto, you have more of a sense of pride in the community especially with Aki and Cosmos setting the bar for how a store should be run in this new internet age. By all means, use the internet to get business but drive that business into your shop. That’s how good things start to happen, people make connections, exchange information, bring in good records to trade etc. Some might see our little niche record community on Instagram like a new kind of Soul Strut. It’s a place where likeminded heads follow each other and share music and even sell records. Some folks are divided over whether or not social media has been good for record digging. Some complain that nothing is a secret anymore and others complain because it’s turned into a dick show where everyone’s flossing rares for likes. We certainly connected over Instagram so it can’t be all bad. What are your perspectives on record digging and social media? Has it changed or influenced the kind of music you’re buying or how you buy it? Instagram is a totally new experience for me. I was a small-time lurker on the Soulstrut board, never making the leap to actually interacting with people. I’d never done anything social media related until I figured out that a local record spot was selling all their good shit dumb fast cause they were posting it on something called Instagram. People were snapping it up before it even hit the floor, but the owner was being smart about it and not shipping – so he was still driving business into his shop. That got me motivated to check the thing out and it’s been a real game changer. It’s a double-edged sword of sorts. On one hand, it’s totally amazing to be connected to likeminded people from all over the world, but on the other, you’re going to be exposed to a lot of shit you don’t condone and just shitty human behavior in general. The biggest problem that can’t be ignored is that there has definitely been a shift to some people feeling overly entitled to everything from knowledge to records and even personal relationships. We came up where all those things were a slow gradual process that at times sucked, and you wished you could bypass, but that’s what you had to do to pay your dues. Now we want it all immediately, myself included, so I try to remind myself of that daily. All that said, I try to focus on the positive aspects like linking up with good people like you guys and all the knowledge and records I’ve gained over the last few years. It’s really amazing and not something I take for granted. That’s why I try to “add on” as much as possible and not just get caught up in the record equivalent of a dick measuring contest. It’s definitely changed the way I dig because we now have a whole new option that can be an unexpected source of info at any given moment of the day. As far as my tastes I’m pretty locked in in to what I like. My tastes are broad, but the common theme has always been hip-hop – that’s were I come from and those are the lenses I look at the world through. I’m attracted to all things I think have a hip-hop aesthetic to them and I find that in the strangest plac

    54 min
  4. 2017-04-24

    CRATERY 84: Supreme La Rock

    My first real glimpse of Supreme La Rock was not in person. It was through a wantlist of records given to my friend Moss, via our mutual homie Jake One around ’95. Supreme had instructed Jake to tell his new Canadian counterparts to be on the lookout for some titles and send them his way if we encountered any. The list had records like: Stark Reality Power of Zeus Les De Merle – Spectrum Moody – Gentle Rain Wayne McGhie First Gear Turner Brothers Supreme’s wantlist was basically the stuff of folklore to me. I had never heard of The Gentle Rain, Stark Reality or Turner Brothers. These weren’t the type of records you’d find openly listed on sample credits. They were too heavy for the Luv N Haight/Ubiquity comps of the time. And you most likely wouldn’t find them in the average Toronto record store back then. The records on that list were my first glance into a world much deeper than the one I was digging in. A world extremely far away from CTI records and Tommy Roe drum breaks I was catching in the field. I mean, shit. I was probably still looking for a copy of Ronnie Laws at that point. I had never met Supreme and his wantlist had already made him the stuff of legend. That was before his partnership in the Seattle indie label Conception Records. Before his seminal break series with Jake One as the Conmen. Before being featured in issue #1 of Waxpoetics. And long before you some of you wetmouths were asking him about unlisted breaks on his Instagram. When we spoke on the phone, you mentioned buying Blair’s “Night Life” in 10th grade. Give us some examples of the early pieces you picked up before they became “grails”. I picked up Baby Huey & the Babysitters, Jimmy Castor Bunch, Incredible Bongo Band, Headhunters, Bob James all in the mid 80’s not necessarily “grails” but classics. Also, S.O.U.L, Billy Brooks, Faze O, Meters, etc. around ’91. How did you develop such a large base of knowledge at such a young age? Were you working in a store? Did you have an OG pass on knowledge to you? Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, you weren’t exactly in the South Bronx. Where did this knowledge come from? A lot of it wasn’t knowledge. Of course, joints like Jimmy Castor, Bongo Band etc. were already certified hip-hop break beat classics at that point but as for the other stuff a lot of trial and error. I was buying records that looked “cool” or noticing who produced it. This was pre-internet, you learned by listening. Louie Lou, T La Rock’s DJ told me about Octopus breaks when they performed in Seattle in the late 80’s so I tried to track those down and ended up talking to Lenny Roberts of U.B.B fame. He would send me lists of original records he had for sale. He already did the digging for you, and knew his stuff, so I’d buy things I didn’t even know because you knew they’d be good. He wasn’t listing anything that wasn’t funky or had breaks on ’em. Also started to do trades with Jazzman Gerald in the U.K. who put me onto a lot of great foreign records and Beni B (ABB records) who I randomly met one day while out digging. He put me onto tons of titles. I never worked in a shop until around ’96 and it wasn’t for long. The main list I used was in a book. Maybe Steven Hager’s “Hip Hop” but can’t remember for sure. There was a book that listed the top classic hip hop breaks so I used that as a guide until I acquired them all and crossed off the entire list. We’re from a generation that was reared on secrecy. Knowledge was coveted. Thanks (or no thanks) to technology, record knowledge is much more accessible than it used to be (although no one can know or have everything). What are your thoughts on digging in a post-Internet world? The thing that totally sucks about digging post-Internet is shops and dealers jacking up prices. Sure, there’s someone in the world willing to pay x amount for the record hence the reason it’s sold for that price in the past but with that being said doesn’t necessarily determine market value so it’s really thrown the whole pricing of records off. Not every record is or should be a $100 record. It really sucks to go out to a shop and ALL of their good records aren’t even out because they’ve hidden them in the back to sell online. Why even have a shop? Almost all secrecy about records is gone, but there’s still some out there. It’ll never end. It feels like most of the digging “rules” we grew up with have been thrown out the window. I remember hearing things like “don’t sample any drums after ‘79” and “only sample original vinyl”. Even though there aren’t any steadfast rules today – are there any you still choose to subscribe to? The only rule I stick to in 2017 and beyond is there are no rules. The Conmen mixes were like a bible to many of us. From the selections to the way they were put together, it was unprecedented. Funky records, rare and common all together in one place. The intro to “The Masters” where you mention the infamous “Giant for McCluskey” trade even became someone’s user name on Soul Strut. Why do you think those mixes were so influential? Conmen mixes were influential for a few reasons. Hardly anyone was doing them at that time. I used to make mixes like that on the regular just for myself to listen to at work to inspire myself to make beats. I was doing regular song mixtapes and selling them but never thought of selling a tape with 3 seconds of a record on it I thought no one would want to hear that. Jake (One) was the guy that suggested we do a tape like that and put it out. As far as selection goes, we had stuff that was sampled and been used already and stuff that hadn’t, but we both had the ear for a good loop or a good groove. I had tons of drum breaks no one had used yet, so mix that all together and heads that produce were easily influenced. We even heard people were sampling straight from our tapes they didn’t even have or know what the original record was. That’s crazy. I never knew that was going on. I was actively trying to find some of those records and it wasn’t easy so if you’re sampling off a mixtape I can only imagine how difficult it would be for some folks to find that shit. And it’s not any easier today. Nowadays, with Internet pricing, it’s harder than ever to catch record stores slipping. But you’ve still had your share of legendary come ups over the years. Share a few times where you had to keep a poker face at the counter with a rare piece in hand. I hit a store once that had just scored a decent collection and the dude running it was kind of a w****r so I knew he was gonna gouge me on pricing if he’d even sell any of them to me. To my luck he was going on his lunch break so I pillaged through the boxes as fast as I could and asked the younger brand new clerk if I could buy them? She said sure they’ll be $2.99 each! I cashed out as fast as I could and dipped before homie got back from lunch. Also, recently a clerk was told to look up the prices on discogs to price my stack. The good thing is he had absolutely no idea what he was doing and was putting re-issue prices on original pieces. You’re infamous for “having it all” despite the fact that we both know that’s impossible. What’s an example of a record that’s eluded you no matter how hard you’ve tried to find it? I’m not going to give that title up because I don’t have it yet. Sorry. But yeah I far from have everything. I think there’s around 3 thousand titles in my discogs wantlist. Let’s take it to the hometown for a second. What’s your favourite Seattle record store, past or present? Best record store in Seattle was probably Platters ran by Gary Delmaestro. He catered to DJ’s, specialized in 12″ disco singles but had tons of great 45’s soul x funk lps as well. Give us 5 essential Seattle breaks. Dennis the Fox “Piledriver” Cross Winds “Fools Journey” Springfield Rifle “Keep Loading” Great Pretenders “Hand Jive” Happy Daze “Monday Work Song” You’re well over 30 years into collecting vinyl, toys, clothes, sneakers and everything in between. Like you, as we continue to acquire more and more, we’ve been wrestling with the idea that all this stuff has to mean something. It can’t just be a bunch of stuff. Have you ever thought about what will happen with your collection when you’re no longer here? What’s the endgame with buying all this stuff? I think it just means I’m a weirdo. (Laughs) It’s all going to my son. I hope he sells it all to new happy homes and invests the money wisely. –ARCEE Subscribe on iTunes Download It Here! (right click > Download Linked File As…[Mac] / Save link as…[Win]) Stream: http://media.blubrry.com/cratery/www.CRATERY.com/AUDIO/Cratery_84_featuring_Supreme_La_Rock.mp3 The post CRATERY 84: Supreme La Rock appeared first on CRATERY.

  5. 2016-09-27

    CRATERY 83: Dan Zacks

    Toronto-based collector Dan Zacks pops his Cratery cherry on this month’s episode. I first came to know of Dan through the two Cuban funk compilations he released between 2006 and 2009: Si, Para Usted, volumes 1 and 2 (Both very well put together). Soon after, I realized he shared mutual friends like the hommies Kaewonder and Alister Johnson. It wasn’t until hanging with Zacks and some friends at his home that I became more familiar with this unassuming, bespectacled gentleman with a penchant for the foreign and the funky. We’re happy to finally welcome him to Cratery. Track list and audio below. How did you start collecting? What type of records were you buying early on?  I started collecting because of Jason Palma’s Higher Ground radio show. I grew up in Toronto and in the mid-90s, when I was about 15, stumbled on CIUT, University of Toronto’s campus community station.  I became an avid and rather indiscriminate CIUT listener.  Initially, I was into a show that played a lot of Joe Frank monologues, but one Thursday I stumbled on Higher Ground and that was it.  I remember hearing Roy Porter’s Jessica and Candido’s Thousand Fingered Man and wondering what this stuff was and why I’d never heard it before.  I didn’t appreciate at the time that it was already two decades old.  I went to HMV and asked if they had anything by Roy Porter and got the blank look you’d expect. I listened to Higher Ground with an adolescent obsession.  Once Movement started, I started sneaking my way in.  I bought a lot of CDs, mostly used, and read Straight No Chaser while loitering in HMV. In 2000 I went to Montreal for university.  There were quite a few records stores there at the time, and a lot of them had reasonably inexpensive vinyl.  There was no scene equivalent to what was developing around Movement, and so the collecting culture was different.  To the extent that people were digging for the kind of stuff you’d hear on Higher Ground, it was mostly because they were chasing breaks and samples.  The result was that some of the records I was into were available at reasonable prices.  I started buying. In the winter of 2000, I got my first radio show on CKUT, McGill’s campus-community station.  I decided that justified buying more seriously, and that’s when I really began collecting in earnest.  In 2001, I probably spent as much time in record stores as I did in class. Jason Palma is the man. He’s responsible for so spreading so much good taste around this city. For some reason, I was under the impression that you were originally from Montreal. Or at least spent a great deal of time there. I spent five years in Montreal and then moved to New Brunswick for some more school.  I returned to Toronto in 2008.  New Brunswick was then a surprisingly decent place for records, especially Canadiana–I found Henri Pierre Noel LPs in St. John! I cleaned out the province pretty thoroughly, so don’t even bother.  All that’s left are white baptist choir records and you don’t want those, trust me. Ha! Montreal has always been such an amazing city for records. What were some of your favourite stores while you were out there? Montreal hugely influenced my tastes.  I developed an interest, verging on a passion, for Quebecois recordings.  Ultimately, I began selling collectible Quebecois vinyl on a semi-professional basis. I mentioned that there were quite a few quality shops in the early 2000s, but nothing in Montreal, and really anywhere else that I’ve been, compared to the glory of the late Mars Records. Mars was then a cavernous basement on St. Catherine, a little west of St. Laurent.  It was evenly split between porn, posters, and records.  At any given time, the record section held hundreds of thousands of records–maybe millions–overflowing from shelves, stacked beneath them, stacked above them, stacked in towering piles on the floor, stacked in heaps in a mysterious roped off section.  Most records were covered in mould and dust and indeterminate filth that left your skin black.  The first stop after a Mars session was the washroom in the neighbouring Belgo building to clean the sludge off your hands. I don’t know why Mars was so filthy.  I remember being told that there had once been a great flood in Mars, but also that an underground stream flowed adjacent to the record section causing perpetual mould growth.  The place was surreal enough that all of this seemed plausible. You would go to Mars and dig for an hour or two (or more, if like me, you preferred digging to school), and you’d find maybe a dozen records of some value.  Because you’d have exerted a lot of effort to find the heat, and because you’d be covered in crud, you’d feel as if Mars should be paying you for your time, and you’d expect that Mars would sell you the records for just a couple dollars. It didn’t work that way.  You’d present your records to Tom, who ran Mars with his brother, and he would pull out his Goldmine guide.  If it had a listing for the record, he’d quote you the NM price.  If the record was unlisted, he’d quote a price, maybe $20, maybe $75, based on what he thought you’d find most infuriating.  You could negotiate with Tom, but he rarely went half as low as the record’s actual value. This routine left unprepared customers livid.  I witnessed at least a couple guys–always guys, of course–nearly take a swing at him.  Tom loved that.  The transaction would end with most people buying one or two records and leaving the rest behind.  Tom kept these behind the counter (which mostly held stolen electronics—I once saw a guy arrested in Mars while trying to fence a CD player he’d taken from the Bay down the street). Over time, I became as friendly as you could be with Tom.  I used to talk a lot of nonsense with the colourful types who Tom let hang out in the store.  If Tom liked you, he’d stop you from sitting in the decrepit chair near the counter where a homeless prostitute spent her off-time because, he’d say, it was covered with lice.  It was undoubtedly covered with something. Once friendly with Tom, he let me flip through all the records he kept behind the counter and would show me where others customers hid their stashes.  He also charged me fair prices.  My time then was cheap, and I spent endless hours digging through Mars over the span of two, maybe three years.  It was already then fairly depleted, but there was plenty of heat.  I’ll never forget my first big Mars find–a pristine Jarvis Street Review that I flipped for US$700. I also found a lot of Cuban records in Mars, and that was how my interest in Cuban music began. That is insane. I never came up in Mars like that. Always did better at Disquivel and Le Pick-Up. I guess it all comes down to relationships. Speaking of Cuban music, you really helped foster a love for Cuban Funk around the world with your “Si, Para Usted” compilations a few years back. Is there any one genre that has your interest right now?  For the past decade I’ve been working on a compilation of Israeli jazz, funk, and psych.  The project was very close to coming together, but life intervened.  It still remains an interest.  The music is stellar (though there’s not a lot of it), and the various forces that shaped the music are unusually interesting. For whatever reasons, I’ve also been into Italian jazz of late.  People know the Carosello label, especially stuff like Mayafra, but the other, cheaper releases are really good. Israeli funk and Italian Jazz huh? Always on that other shit. Any guilty pleasures that people would be surprised you’re into?  To paraphrase Leo Sayer, there’s no shame in my game.  I’m quite fond of opera… What about record store rituals? Personally, I’m a sucker for the new arrivals section. I tend to hit that first regardless of the record store. Do you have any rituals? Certain things you always do regardless of the store?  These days, my shopping ritual is to get popsike and discogs ready on my phone and…. I’m kidding, of course.  I usually start with the new arrivals, go to the jazz section, then depending on my mood and how the store is set up, go to the rock section.  The soundtrack section almost always disappoints me.  I think I have bad soundtrack luck. You and me both. There’s never a Lialeh just chilling in the cut. Share with us, if you will, a couple of memorable digging experiences. I once came across three boxes of library records in a store way out in the Montreal suburbs.  One of my fondest memories is going on a day trip with A Man Called Warwick and Jon Sikich looking for records in Eastern Township antique stores.  I don’t think we found very much, but it was terrific fun.  Actually, I’m sure Warwick pulled something ridiculous, because he always does. I used to see a really lovely dealer named Marc Lambert.  I think A Man Called Warwick generously introduced me to him.  I would make the trip to his apartment in the east island, and he would offer me cake and play rare prog on his audiophile set-up.  Woe to those who didn’t use finicky belt drive turntable just right! Marc sold me lots of terrific records at fair prices really expanded my knowledge. The ethically fraught business of “direct digging” also made for some memorable experiences.  I met Henri Pierre Noel, Ted Moses, and Lee Gagnon with that approach.  Turns out that the market for Ted Moses recordings wasn’t as robust as I had anticipated.  I think I lost money on that deal.  Want to buy some sealed Sidereal Times? I think I got a couple of Ted’s joints lying around actually, so I’m hoping I kept them for a good reason. Besides the astronomical prices, any major pet peeves about digging today?  In my opinion, to the extent that digging still exists, it’s in circumstances where people don’t h

    1h 38m
  6. 2016-08-07

    The 7th: I’m Not Ready For Love

    CONTRIBUTOR: Big Jacks (GGBRFM) ARTIST: Promise SONG: I’m not ready for love LABEL: New Directions YEAR: 1974 God bless the Internets for allowing me to track this one down after I first heard it on the radio. It was playing on the Stolen Souls radio show (on 105.5 FM) here in Toronto. The whole set was sounding lovely but then this came on. I was like “What the fuck is this???” I tried calling up the station to ask what it was but no one answered the phone (editor’s note: classic college radio). I could hear from the chorus that they kept saying ‘I’m not ready for love”, so that was a helpful hint. When I got back home, I did my googles and learned exactly what the record was. I wasn’t able to find much information about the group or the label, but New Directions seems to be Maryland based and Promise has a couple of releases on the label. When I played it for the Cratery staff, they said it sounded like some bootleg Sylvers shit, and they weren’t wrong. It’s like an all female version of the Sylvers with a hard ass knock to the drums. It’s funky as hell. When I first heard the joint I actually thought it might have been a re-edit, because there’s a nice break down of open bars near the end of the track. Rappers can just loop that shit up and go. I remember just sitting there and nodding my head to it, I think I even kicked a freestyle to myself. I heard this around the time I was really getting into kiddie funk/soul groups from the early 70s. I didn’t know the record at all but it instantly caught my attention and really stuck with me. I just loved it so much – I needed to have it in my collection. http://media.blubrry.com/cratery/CRATERY.com/THE_SEVENTH_S3/Promise_I'm_Not_Ready_For_Love_Cratery.com_Big_Jacks.mp3 The post The 7th: I’m Not Ready For Love appeared first on CRATERY.

  7. 2016-07-30

    CRATERY 82: Hotthobo

    L.A. raised DJ and label owner Randy “Hotthobo” Ellis was in town guesting at Toronto’s Modern Funk Fest, and our hommie Famous Lee of Love Handle fame thought he’d be perfect for a Cratery episode. It’s always a pleasure to connect with real music lovers. And like many real music lovers, Hotthobo has dedicated his life to music. While his west coast roots have certainly informed his taste for funk, Hotthobo isn’t defined by a single genre. His first selection on this month’s episode, Las Grecas’ “Bella Kali” (used on Gonjasufi’s “Cowboys and Indians”), is a far cry from the lo-fi handclaps found on Adam Chini’s “Don’t tempt me”, released on his own Hobo Camp label earlier this year. But admittedly, like many of us, soul and funk music is his first love. And Randy’s got the goods to prove it. It certainly explains the inclusion of the Ted Coleman Band on this episode. As well as Zodiac’s “Miss you”, which I added to my Discogs wantlist without shame before he was even done playing it. Trust me – it’s always a good sign when that happens during an episode. Audio and tracklist below. You grew up in LA? What got you hooked on music? Yeah, specifically “the Valley” (aka the San Fernando Valley).  My dad is a musician and composer, who has produced commercial and TV music throughout the years, among other varying and wildly random music projects. So it started with birth more or less, I can’t really remember a time not having music be pretty present. How did your obsession with vinyl begin? I was always into music, especially cassettes and CDs, and my dad and I would hit The Wherehouse and Tower Records in the Valley quite regularly…it was something I always looked forward to.  So the obsession with albums/consumer music started pretty early on, but when I was around 15 years old, my parents let me raid their record collection, which was mainly a lot of classic rock, classical, fusion, and jazz.  I found that Freddie Hubbard record “Red Clay” in my dad’s records which is still to this day one of my favorite LPs… it contained a Tribe Called Quest sample, who I was really into at the time, and I made that connection that hip hop producers sampled records to make beats.  I didn’t really understand that up until that point, and so it opened up this world to find all the stuff that the hip-hop guys sampled, while I was also looking for current hip-hop and jungle records.  Obviously I tried scratching for the first time on a single turntable, and that was just like this rad new way to interact with music, and I would try to play stuff over a portable tape deck and then scratch the record on my parent’s soundsystem.  Moby Disk, a record store in Sherman Oaks was walking distance from this school I went to, and they had a very cheap used record and cd section and one of the clerks was pretty nice to me and would point out stuff to check out, so I started to slowly buy records. Tell us a little bit about your labels: Hobo Camp and Voltaire Records. Most people would find running one independent label ambitious. Why two? And what’s the difference between them? Well Voltaire was started in SF a little over 5 years ago with my buddies Dave and Matt.  Dave was already producing stuff under the name “The DMV” before that, which then became “Loose Shus” and him and my other friend Amy started to teach me basic production techniques on Ableton.  Generally we were just really into music, dj-ing, skateboarding, and partying, and we knew a few producers through MySpace or mutual friends who had great tunes and nothing physically out, so we set out to try to put out a compilation record which ended up being Affairs-Online.  We actually didn’t finish that project until after our first release, as my buddy Nathan from the band Tussle heard I was trying to start a label and put me in touch with Publicist (aka Seb from Trans Am) who had an EP of tunes ready to go that we were immediately stoked on…that ended up being the 1st Voltaire release.  Now we’re on our 15th release now and have done tons of videos, trips, shows, etc…and its been really great…still is.  Anyways, I moved from SF about 2 years ago, and when I did I found that the dynamic of the label had changed a bit, mainly as I wasn’t physically there to go hang out and talk shop.  We still work together now, but it’s mostly via email, phone, Skype, whereas before we’d meet all the time at various bars or at home and work everything out in person.  We are very particular about the projects we choose, and we all have to be in agreement to go forward on stuff. I’ve always tried to keep in touch with the producers that I really like and reach out to those that I want to meet, so I was getting great projects and demos pretty regularly, and I wanted to start a label that I would have more control over with a different look and vibe.  I’d always loved Dyami O’Brien’s artwork, and I’d known him from going to Funkmosphere and seeing his work on Instagram or his website, and I’d occasionally DJed with him in LA when i was visiting from SF. He was down to handle the graphics for Hobo Camp, and my buddy Brit was also down to help get it going, so we just went from there.  So now I do both labels, and it’s just a different crew and a different process for each.  I think any fan of either label would like the other, but I do see Voltaire as being more refined and collaborative, and Hobo Camp as being a little more raw with me having more direction. It feels like funk has been woven into the fabric of LA. Why do you think funk feels so at home in Los Angeles? Funk has a home in LA backyards, garages, record stores and DJ crates.  It’s one of those relatively underground music genres, at least at this point, that just kinda remained in LA, the stuff that older siblings, uncles, and cousins got down to and passed down to the next generations…but it evolved through genres and now its back around and is clearly influenced by the sound palate and gear of a specific era.  The Boogie-Funk music that I’m obsessed with, after having its day in the late 70s/early 80s worked its way into electro and rap stuff, then into west coast g-funk, and now its coming back around via the Modern Funk genre and in many others as well…but none of those other sub-genres ever really went away, producers have been making them, or weird combos of them for the last 30 years to varying degrees.  For the last ten years, I think funk has felt at home in LA thanks to nights like Funkmosphere, Rap and G-Funk Anthems which get relatively constant radio airplay in LA and SoCal (many of which sample classic funk tracks), random DJs keeping funk playing at house parties, in garages and clubs, and there is a nice cohort of LA based producers that have always kept it alive.  Also in the 90s the whole rare groove thing was really in, and to a certain point got really well established…and that sound was rooted more in the 60s and 70s, and a lot of folks moved further on toward electro, boogie, and disco, which were genres that used to be completely ignored by most diggers…if only I was ahead of the game then! I say the same thing to myself all the time. What other cities have you played that really appreciate the funk on another level? SF is where I came to truly appreciate the Disco/Boogie/Funk sound, thanks to the weekly night, Sweaterfunk, which took the blueprint of Funkmosphere, moved it to SF, built up a crew of very devoted DJs and developed their own unique night and vibe.  San Diego is definitely an upcoming funk city at the moment, with some killer producers/bands like Brian Ellis and Reflection, Adam Chini, Throwback Zack and nights like the Boogie Down at the Hideout.  Santa Ana and Orange County in general has a ruling boogie-funk scene, thanks mostly to the ever dominant Funk Freaks crew.  From personal experience I think Toronto, Oakland, Austin, and Sacramento all have great scenes with some very dedicated heads involved.  I’ve heard that Portland and Chicago are also amazing and I’ve met great DJs from those spots, but I haven’t been to either yet.  New York City felt super ripe for the funk the last time I was there…but I was told otherwise?!?  But I don’t know man, people there seemed pretty with it. One of the chief benefits of traveling is digging in other cities. Any favorite stores / digging experiences in your travels you’d like to share? My favorite stores are Groove Merchant and Rookies in SF, Cosmos in Toronto, Record Jungle in LA, Superior Elevation in Brooklyn and Beatbox in San Diego.  Basically any store with a cool owner that figures out your tastes, puts you on to great jams and constantly brings in new records is good on my end…also the cutty spots where you gotta put in the time.  Any time I find an amazing record or am turned on to a epic track for the first time is a good digging experience for me. What are some of the challenges you face as a working, traveling DJ that people simply may not be aware of? The biggest for me is just handling my own booking, and traveling with vinyl.  I really need to be on it to create my own destiny there, and if I drop the ball I’m gonna be the one without a place to sleep or an easy way to travel, or without any money from a gig.  The vinyl thing is just the pain of carrying records and personal luggage on planes and from place to place mostly, not really a big issue, but a lot of professional DJs kinda trip on me when they hear I don’t do the Serato thing on trips. We definitely have to give it up to the guys who are willing to go the extra mile in the name of records. Give our listeners 5 modern funk jams that you would consider essential. I’ll give a couple more, cuz 5 is too tough for me: Moon B – II, Psychic Mirrors – I Come For Your Love/The Witching Hour and Nature o

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A Dig Diary by Arcee, Kaewonder, & Dj Serious