old school jungle
Source: RiteTrax showcase #012
I am having so much fun with these guys – it is untrue. We have a lot running through over the next couple of months. Take a look and pop along, or if you can’t take a listen to the mixes.
You can also take a look at what is on offer on their website.
RiteTrax CIC is a newly formed social enterprise based in Manchester and Sheffield, aimed at providng a platform for underground creative culture.
Yes! time goes by, tastes, likes, loves, appreciations all move on with time. There were times in my middle youth (in this instance for me that meany my 50s, as if I will ever truly grow up) when the things that made me look up, listen and all the rest – generally paying attention – were the loud, the brash, the banging, in one way or another. These were the days of free parties out in the Peaks, warehouses, abandoned buildings. These wer the days of club nights attended, run, played at and those for whom I was providing visuals.
In such days I acquired an appreciation of quite oddly contrasting things:
– odd trails through woods and seemingly ordinary patches of rock, grass, countryside
– old buildings, dilapidated, disused, derelict but still standing and serviceable in one way or another
– tarnished clubs, nightclubs with a hint of distress or just a certain well lived texture, hence the Adelphi, the Arches, Corporation and more
– scrappy flats, old caravans, particular estates and corner shops, ordinary old pubs, things with a history of ordinary people’s lives, a history of efforts made, painful failings, odd successes and joys, too many pains, accidents and setbacks.
These were days when ultimately I ended up going out to various parties and clubbing with my daughters. We had a common set of tastes for events and music. It was all very surprising to their friends when they discovered that the old guy wandering about with them was their dad – quite normal for them but so unusual for their buddies. In these days and nights a bond was built of common tastes and flavours. Those textures still come back to me, they still retain a particular power for me but they are no longer as immediate as they used to be.
I come from a family with a serious background in tool making. Just down the road from where I live lies one of the old Stanley plants – long since disused. There is something of a magic about the old, the distressed, the broken. From older days of supplying things of use to the world at large it has become somewhat broken, essentially abandoned and has found some use as a (literally) haunt of ‘zombie hunters’ – playing out whatever.
The birthday weekend was interesting – family were well present and differently entertaining.
After the major party we headed off to see Artful Dodger and be reminded of old 2 step days, then from there an afterparty which took me back to old days of full weekend free parties and the obligatory afterparty. I was reminded of all those old days in my 50s watching the light levels rise and being annoyed by ravenous insect life from the nearby water. I am now just about sober – fourish days later …
While running through this party weekend I remember talking to an old friend and we agreed upon that quality of the chill out afterparty – that quality which you can palpably feel where the music you are then listening to, the place you are occupying and enjoying is enriched by the continuing reminiscence, the immediate reminiscence, that afterflavour of the party you have just come from … each interacts with the other.
and if you like it old skool and well raggaed up