Attn: Columbia Kids

I'm heading to Texas tomorrow, but I'm coming back Sunday night to hold down the stereo at the white party, and I expect to see all of you there. Print this shit out and hook up your friends:

Attention Europe!

It has come to my attention, that because of the London night club Trash's message board and a group of people who also share my obsession with Diplo, that this blog now has readers in Portugal, The UK, Germany, et al. I wish to apologize to you all, since I'm sure that in your incessant googling you thought you had stumbled upon an undiscovered hip hop blog, possibly containing mad knowledge jewlz pertaining to Diplo and Hollertronix. I'm afraid I only post music in mad fits of downloading mania. All the other days you only get me, talking about shit (sort of like Lemon-Red except less consistent, and with way less file sharing.

Recovered Memory:

I remember sitting at the Starbucks in Detroit-Metro, having just missed my flight to LaGuardia, and starring at an unbelievably cute girl who was having coffee with her mother. I can't believe I've forgotten so many details from that trip. It was only February, and even now I can barely remember the flight. I remember that the plane was small, and we had to walk on the tarmac to get to it (Thanks to the media, I always think about Nixon when I have to walk on the tarmac, and I wasn't even alive when he did that). It didn't seem so at the time, but suddenly I realize how exciting that was, going to New York for no reason at all. So spontaneous! It was easy to be spontaneous in Michigan; lots of things were easier in Michigan. I can't remember LaGuardia at all, just the outside part of it, the cold and the endless sea of taxis. I don't know why I can't remember that, but part of me thinks that this means I will be dead soon.

Sex and McSweeney's

Hello there. My computer is broken (actually smashed to pieces!). So for now I write to you from the office of The Maneater, where I occaisionaly hang out to pretend that I still work here. Now let me tell you why my english class is better than yours.

The class is called "Contemporary Fiction Writing and the Publishing Industry." It is taught by two young men, one of whom has a gold earing. They are very hip, and much more "with it" than any of my previous english professors. Our reading list is basically composed of things I would read anyways. For instance, The Virgin Suicides or Sex In The City. I'm actually dreading that one a bit, Sex In The City. I think this is mostly derrived from my aversion to people (those who are fictional, as well as those composed of bones and skin and such) who participate in sex with little regard for love. All of these women do that, except maybe Charlotte, who is the cutest one anyways. But I digress.
We will also be reading (required to read!) McSweeney's Literary Quarterly #15. Try and beat that english class! Even if you're in that intro to film class that is somehow considered an english class, you still have to go to class at like 7 at night. That's dinner time, not class time.

Speaking of McSweeney's, not only are they very in touch with my views on children, but my taste in music as well, as they recommend both The Killers (fuck you, that song is good) and Sufjan Stevens. It's clear that we are so close in intellect and mental tract, that I will not be surprised (and you should not be either) if Dave Eggers himself soon calls me on the telephone, "just to chat."

I Found It!

So if you've talked to me recently, you might know that I've been searching for a trench coat. Not just any trench coat mind you, but one that is cut slim with giant lapels and a belt. Finally, after storming through my entire GQ archive I realized today that I hadn't seen the coat in GQ, but on GQ's website. Turns out my coat is made by Burberry Porsum. I havent gotten a price on it (It's spring 2006, it's not yet in stores), but I'm estimating somewhere around $900. Where did I put that lottery ticket?

In other news, I went on a downloading frenzy this weekend. Here are some good things that you should soulseek:

Missy Elliot - Bad Man (Feat. Vybz Cartel and M.I.A.)
Kanye West - Gold Digger
Cybotron - Clear
Les Visiteurs - Snoop's Acid Drop (dangerously fun acid remix of Drop It Like It's Hot)
Spankrock - Put That Pussy On Me (Both the original, and the Diplo Remix)
Rihana - Pon De Replay (I think dancehall is my new guilty pleasure)
Kanye West - Diamonds Remix (feat. Jay-Z)
Rilo Kiley - With Arms Outstretched (<3)

Give Me Every Little Thing

So tonight, after much spitting of game, and entirely too much anticipation, I made my debut as a DJ at Feel The Glow (aka Jay Kirby's house). Despite loads and loads of technical difficulties, and the fact that I could barely hear the music in my headphones to match it up and mix it, I'd call the night an overall success. People were dancing hard enough that they had to take off they clothes, because it was so hott in thurre. Finally, the sound system melted down in protest, just like when Diplo played at Intonation. We fixed it the first time, but when it happened the second time we had to declare it dead. If I learned anything from Diplo's set, its that you can't fix your set up twice. Still, my apprehension towards the whole evening (I litterally used so much energy being nervous, that I could no longer stand) was unnecessary because the response was overwhelmingly positive.

So if you're having a party, and you'd like for someone to bring the rock (and sometimes microhouse/hip hop), you now know who to call.

There Are Plenty Of Mohicans

My latest conversation with a homeless person:

So there is this guy who is always sitting in the grass at the Niedermeyer (huge white house on 10th and Cherry) and he asked me for a quarter. So I gave it to him and he started rambling about something, and I was standing there thinking about how to exit this conversation when I noticed he had a shirt on that said "Wanted: Sugar Momma." Obviously, because he was homeless and poor this is the best joke I have ever seen, so I gave him another quarter. He then said "You know what that means right? A sugar momma is a sweet lady," to which I whole heartedly agreed. I wished him luck on his search for a sweet lady and then came back to my apartment to drink coffee.

Other Important Business:

The latest round of McSweeney's lists (the top 6 on that page) are fucking incredible. I especially recomend the one involving flag burning.

Also, photo kids need to read this, which is an exerpt from this. There is so much great wisdom in that exerpt, I can't wait until I get a copy of the actual book.

Finally, I can whole heartedly recommend the first half of The Juan Maclean's debut album, "Less Than Human." There are 4 solid tracks on this, designed to make you shake your ass right off. And then track 5 hits and you say "Oh, ok he's going Daft Punk electro-pop on our asses." Unfortunately, Juan never returns with the block rockin' beats. Tis a shame, because until he gets to track 5, his album is better than the LCD Soundsystem LP (thats right, I said it).

One Of Our Base Commanders, Well He... He Went A Little Funny In The Head.

Since A Conversation With A Homeless Person's long time supporter What We All Want recently decided to dabble in music sharing, we here at A Conversation With A Homeless Person have been inspired to get in on the act as well. However, instead of a few great tracks, we've got one long one (sort of).

For those of you who do not froth at the mouth on the third Wednesday of the month when Pitchfork and Phillip Sherburne combine their powers to bring us The Month In Techno, it has been brought to the attention of those of us not living in Cologne that Mental Groove has bestowed upon us a treasure trove of DJ sets available for download. So here is that:

St. Plomb - Mental Groove Mix #2

I don't care if you don't like techno. I don't care how big the file is. The download is worth it solely for "My Neck My Back" played over a nice little microhouse diddy, if not as well the Dr. Strangelove intro. Download this shit. I'm serious.

This Totally Wins

This is fucking amazing.

I'm back in Missouri, and I've moved into my apartment. You know the Gas Station With No Gas? Walk there, and then go behind it, past the homeless people. Yes, that house. That is my house. I don't have any furniture yet, so if anyone knows of a rad couch that's up for grabs, be sure to hook a brotha up.