Música de Cumpleaños, 2011

Unapologetically DMP: an idiosyncratic journey though indie-dance; hypnotic psychedelia; West-Coast rap; wistful pop melodies; warm House rhythms; and avant covers of Billboard pop.

On November 13th of 2024, I had the pleasure of attending A People's History of North American Music, a multi-media lecture/slideshow by Mississippi Records founder Eric Isaacson. For the uninitiated, Mississippi Records is a physical store/label in Portland, OR that greatly expanded the scope of contemporary listening for those that are, well, "initiated." Only the record store Other Music (Rest in Power) in New York City had a more profound impact on me. Yet Isaacson deftly placed the label within a larger American sonic milieu inclusive of race, class, gender, or citizenship status. The label is less a rupture, than a continuation.

I left the lecture elated. Like Isaacson, I'm a music/sound obsessive who would make mixtapes alone on a desert island. An early, albeit cliche, memory: recording myself banging on the living room couch with drumsticks on my fisher price portable stereo. The resulting cacophony didn't reflect the wall of percussive sound in my imagination but I was still transfixed by making sounds, even if simply putting songs in a pleasing order. This progressed to mixtapes, mix CD's, being the friend to take over the car or party stereo, a late night college radio show, DJ'ing weddings and bars, and more recently curating Spotify playlists for Rudy Jude.

As I've been combing through old hard drives, some mixes are unlistenable as the rough edges overtake the center. Others capture a moment in time perfectly, but don't warrant a revisit. And yet, Música de Cumpleaños, from 2011 is more transcendent upon each listen. This was a Birthday (March 11) present to myself, so it is unapologetically DMP: an idiosyncratic journey though indie-dance; hypnotic psychedelia; West-Coast rap; wistful pop melodies; warm House rhythms; and avant covers of Billboard pop.

And while I'll forgo a litany of thoughts about the specifics, I'm struck by how well the lyrics capture the ennui of time's passage: "I wake up everyday feeling the same way, gotta go to work, then hurry home," "Every day is just the same old every day," "When we were seventeen, our life was like a feeling," "Where would we be, if we keep waiting for eventually," and "Every step is moving me up."

If you enjoy this mix as well as the archive of Rudy Jude playlists, I have good news! On Friday, February 28th, I will be officially launching a Patreon subscription service with similar mixes including live video streams and physical cassette tapes. Until then, I'll be posting a new archival mix each day. And I'm very excited about the new Birthday mix which will be posted Friday for subscribers!

Please take care of yourself and loved ones! If you ask me, 2025 should be renamed Rakim because it Ain't No Joke!.