Posted: August 15th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: Cristina, David Morales, Frankie Knuckles, Front, Groove, Interview, Masters At Work, Pet Shop Boys, Radio, The Temptations, Tony Humphries | 6 Comments »

We should probably start at the very beginning. What were your baby steps as a DJ, what led you to being a DJ in the first place?
I think in the first place was the love for music. And I can remember when I was really, really young, with a babysitter, and we’re talking about the days of 45s. The first record that I actually remember and I was spinning was „Spinning Wheel“ by Blood, Sweat & Tears.
Good choice.
You know my family was from Puerto Rico and there was no American music in my house.
It was mostly Latin music?
Only Latin music. And we’re talking about Merengue, Salsa. Folk music from Puerto Rico. And I didn’t like it. And it’s funny because today I appreciate Latin music. Since I became a producer, now I appreciate Latin music for the production, the instrumentation, the musicians, because Latin music is not machine-made, not at all. So the first 45 that was in my house was “Jungle Fever” by Chakachas. My parents had this fucking 45 that was this erotic fucking record. And we’re talking about these stereos that were like these big fucking wooden consoles with the big tuner for the radio and the thing with the record where you put some records in the thing and it dropped one at a time and when it ended the thing drops. It must’ve been when I was about six or seven there was an illegal social club. You know I was living in the ghetto. So there were illegal social clubs that were like a black room, with day-glo spray paint, fluorescent lights to make the paint glow and they had a jukebox. And they’d play the music back then. „Mr. Big Stuff, who do you think you are“. It was all about the O’Jays and that kind of music. And I liked that. I used to sneak downstairs and such.
So when was that?
It was like the late sixties. Because I was born in ’62 so by ’70 that makes I was 8 years old. So it was before that because then I moved. Anyway, so fast forward the first 45 that I liked was the O’Jays. The first 45 I actually bought. And I remember playing that record I a hundred times a day. Putting the bullshit speaker we had in the house outside the window, we lived on the first floor. I played the record to death.
So you played it to the whole neighborhood?
The whole neighborhood. The only record I had really. So then when I graduated elementary school, I used to be into dancing, like the Jackson 5 they had “Dancing Machine”, there were The Temptations and Gladys Knight & The Pips and I liked that music. So then when we got into Junior High School – when I was like 13 years old, I had a girlfriend and we went out when the first DJs came on in the neighborhood, which was like the black DJs. I saw the first two Technics set up and a mixer in someone’s house. I was like “Wow! That’s interesting.” I saw somebody doing this non-stop disco mix and I never knew what that was all about. So, I used to hang out with all my friends. I was a dancer, we used to do all this what we now call breakdancing. We would do battles. So, I had one turntable and my friend would say “David, we hangin’ at my place” and I would play some music for us. So I just was a kid that sat by the stereo with the records and put on the tunes, one at a time. Because back then that’s what it was, you’d play one tune at a time. If it ended, the people clapped and you’d play the next tune. And it was all songs.
How did you proceed from there?
I was one of those kids that used to go to the record store even though I had no money. Just to look at the records. To walk by a store that sold turntables and a mixer and be like “one day, one day…” And I’m not working so I can’t afford to buy anything. My first mixer was a Mic mixer. 1977 there was a blackout in New York and there was a lot of stealing so I came across a radio shack little Mic mixer that I set up to make it work with two turntables. You had to turn two knobs at the same time and it was like mixing braille because there was no cueing. My one turntable had pitch control, the other one had none. I was too young to go to clubs, so I never saw a proper DJ mixing. I only saw people outside, we would have block parties and people would be mixing. And I was one of those kids that was just standing there, watching. The first time I went to a club I was 15 years old, it was Starship Discovery One. It was on 42nd street in Times Square, and we got in. We shouldn’t have got in, but you know it was the end of the club, I was 15 and I got in. The DJ had three Technics, the original 1200s, and a Bozak mixer. The booth was a bubble, and I had my nose at the fucking bubble and I was just mesmerized. The first time I actually played on a real mixer I went to a house party at my friend’s brothers apartment. And in those days, most of the DJs who were really playing were gay DJs. “San Francisco” by the Village People was the big record. But I was into The Trammps, I was into James Brown, I was into Eddie Kendricks, Jimmy Castor Bunch, “The Mexican”, Sam Records and of course Donna Summer and all this kind of stuff. So I went to this house party and he was the DJ, the first proper mixer I saw – this was before I went to that club. And it was a black mixer, it had two faders and it had cueing. So I see the DJ there, he’s using headphones to cue. So my friend says “D, you wanna play some music?” and I’m like “Yeah, sure.” I grabbed the headphones, put them on and I hit the cueing, because I was watching the guy, and I’m hearing some music and and I was like “Oh shit…” When I played at that party, I’d still play how I know how to play, which was braille. Intro, outro. And it wasn’t about mixing. All the new bars at that time were advertising nonstop disco mixes.
It was even mentioned on the record sleeves.
Yes. And all that meant was that the music never stopped. Because before the music used to stop before the next record came in. So now it was continuous. That worked, so here came the name nonstop disco mix. And then at that time all these records started coming out. The disco 45 record. At my junior high school prom “Doctor Love” by First Choice was big. And I remember the guy playing it about four times. So my first 12″ of course was “Ten Percent” by Double Exposure, on Salsoul. Another record that I played to death out the window.
You were still doing that?
I was still doing that. I used to live to just play music. I loved it. I would leave in the morning to go to school because my parents would go to work. I would buy a bag of weed, buy a quart of beer and I would go home. And you know in the old days we had all those buildings where you could really play loud music and I had these stupid double 18 boxes in my fucking bedroom. Before I’d take a piss, I turned my system up. My mother used to be like “turn that music down, turn that music down, turn that music down!”
Did you begin to play out around that time?
Yes, and playing at parties in those days meant you carried your records. Because you didn’t play for two hours, you played the whole party. And the thing is, if you owned 5000 records, you took 5000 records to the party. And in those days we carried milk crates. So here I am carrying eight to ten milk crates to a party. Getting in a car, getting a cab, you have all your friends who would help you going there, but when you’re leaving there is nobody to help. And you had to take the stereo system with you. So you carry the sound system and you carried your records. You took everything. It wasn’t like going somewhere and you just bring your records and they have everything. You had to take everything. I did parties for 15 dollars, for 25 dollars and you had to chase people down for your money.
What kind of events were you doing?
I played in clubs, I did Sweet Sixteens, I did weddings, I did corporate events. I did anything. I also did parties in high school. I would advertise a party, we would bring the sound system to some kid’s house, the parents left to go to work, we’d bring the sound system fast, and I would advertise free beer and free joints. Even 50 people is a lot of people in somebody’s apartment. Imagine we’d take over the apartment and it’s like 10 in the morning and we’d be fucking banging it, banging it, banging it — and we’d get out by 3 in the afternoon before the person’s parents come home. God knows the mess, whatever the case, baby. And in those days the sound system was in the living room, the DJ booth in the bedroom. No monitors, it was just bang bang bang. As I started doing parties at an apartment I used to charge a dollar to get in, decorate the apartment, put up balloons, and it just started with friends. Obviously still free beers, free joints, the whole thing. And like I said, I just loved the music, it was just everything for me. I wanted to play every single day. Even when I didn’t have the equipment, I knew friends that bought decks and a mixer and a small sound system for their house and they weren’t DJs and they used to say “David, come to my house and play music for me.” And I would just die to play, it was just everything for me. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted: July 4th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: Daft Punk, Electronic Beats, Front, Paris, Radio, Rewind, Theo Parrish, Trus'me | No Comments »

In discussion with Trusme on “Forevernevermore” by Moodymann (2000).
I doubt that „Forevernevermore“ was your first encounter with Moodymann. Did you eagerly await his third album, and how did it grab you?
100% I didn’t know who Kenny was till I found a copy of “Forevernevermore” in my friend’s record bag. He had left his records at my house and I was doing the usual noseying though the records when I found this CD. I was completely into Slum Village, MadLib and Jaydee collecting the samples from Jazz to Disco. When I first played this CD, everything just became clear in my mind. This is the sound I was looking for, from Hip Hop, House, Jazz, Soul and Disco all rolled into one. I became obsessed, wanting to understand the production techniques and went on to discover the whole world of Detroit right after this. Three years on, Moodymann was playing my first LP launch in a pub on Oldham street, home to where I had been buying his records for the past few years. KDJ and Theo were just No.1 at that time in Manchester and I couldn’t help but be influenced by the whole sound.
It seems that Moodymann matured up to the release „Forevernevermore“ in terms of the album format. „Silent Introduction“ felt like an anthology of 12“ material, even though it worked as an album. But with „Mahogany Brown“ he already aimed at a listening experience more true to the format. Would you say he topped this with „Forevernevermore“?
Yes, for sure. The whole LP worked as a cohesive hour of music yet there was something at every turn that was unique and compelling to me as a listener. I related to this LP in more ways than one, due to it’s almost Hip Hop nature with intros and outros connecting the tracks and glueing the whole piece together. There are so many seminal tracks on the LP that are still played out in the clubs today, yet they are tracks that remain LP cuts and for home listening only. This ideology is what I have embraced in all four LPs that I have produced over the last 8-9 years, with something for the dancefloor, something for the car and wherever else that one listens to LPs these days.
You told me that you wanted to talk about the CD version of „Forevernevermore“, which has lots of interludes and skits, and hidden tracks. Do they form an alliance with the music that almost works like a radio play? What is the special appeal of it?
When I think of an LP, I think of A Tribe Called Quest, Marvin Gaye or The Verve even. All these LPs are constructed to be a continuous piece of music, in which the listener is taken on a journey from the beginning to the end. With the CD format, there is extra playtime in which intros and outros can give a context to the background and making of the LP. On the “Forevernevermore” CD you are taken into the home of KDJ, as he sits playing with ideas on the piano with his child, to the studio discussions and even to listening to his local radio for inspiration. Hidden right at the end of the CD is a live recording of three hard-to-find cuts from the KDJ label, mixed together after 2 mins of silence. In many ways the CD provides the platform for further expression as an artist in the format of an LP.
I think the sound of „Forevernevermore“ was a step forward in terms of his distinctive sound. It was still dense and immersive, but also more refined. Do you think Moodymann’s sound evolved on „Forevernevermore“ in comparison to earlier works? And was it for the better?
This was for sure in an LP sense his best work. It is what most people say as their favourite work, when talking about Moodymann. He carved a sound out all for himself and also derived a unique long player format that until then was not seen in the dance scene. Most underground dance LPs were merely a collection of 12” tracks but this felt more like a well thought-out process, something like Daft Punk would execute. I believe Peacefrog Records also helped in this process and pushed KDJ, as they did all their artists to reach even further. In many ways, earlier LPs were a collection of his previous works but “Forevernevermore” was an LP made from beginning to end with a single LP idea and it feels very much that way.
Tracks like the Disco led „Don’t You Want My Love“ display a confidence to transcend mere club credentials for traditional songwriting, a path he followed ever since. Is there a side to Moodymann the producer you prefer to others, or is it not necessary to differentiate his persona as an artist?
The marriage between your typical MPC studio production and live instrumentation was what set out Kenny on his own. Working with local artists like the percussionist Andres, bass with Paul Randolph and keyboards by Amp Fiddler, on top of that raw production sound was just so unique. The juxtaposition of quantised groove and loose musicianship created a genre of its own and is still being replicated today. This LP was the beginning of that sound and Kenny is still using this formula very much in his productions today.
How do you rate the albums Moodymann released since „Forevernevermore“? Were they up to par with your expectations?
“Black Mahogani” is on par for me if not more refined than “Forevernevermore” but maybe it’s the rawness of the LP that better relates to me. With the following LPs I have enjoyed the productions but felt slightly less connection to the music I listen to and make today. Not that it’s not great music, but I started to feel that the tracks in the EP releases didn’t have that Peacefrog touch of which I’m such an admirer. The LP process began to evolve towards the creation of a new sound where he begins to sing and perform more as an artist and less in the background as a producer. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted: May 16th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: de:bug, Interview, Mark E, Prosumer, Radio, Stefan Goldmann, Wire Club | No Comments »

The next instalment of Acetate will once again exhibit selectors of world class calibre. David Kennedy aka Pearson Sound, who organises the night, errs towards the DJs who dedicate their time to collecting music, infrequently booking those who attempt to spin plates and produce music at the same time. The DJs’ heightened awareness of the vinyl record landscape seems to breed a uniquely rich atmosphere during the club night.
Alongside long time dubstep colleague, and one of the world’s most sought after selectors, Ben UFO, Kennedy has invited a bona fide head out to play in the Wire basement: music critic and Hard Wax staff member, Finn Johannsen. The German also runs Macro Recordings, Stefan Goldmann’s primary production outlet.
Finn is rarely seen by Brits out of his natural habitat of the Berlin record shop, and is normally only spotted in the by-line of an online electronic music article. So we thought we’d do a bit of investigative work and reverse roles. Here’s our interview with him:
What is the application like for a job at Hard Wax? How did you come to work there?
We get a lot of mails every week by people looking for a job at the store, but all current staff members were already regular customers or otherwise affiliated with Hard Wax before they started working there. Same with me. Six years ago I became father of a wonderful girl, and I realized that all the deadlines involved with freelance work did not work well with that. So I was thinking about adding some steadier work to my weekly schedule, and my wife suggested Hard Wax as an option. I tested ground and what I did not know at the time was that Prosumer was quitting the job, and they were looking for a replacement anyway. So I had a meeting with Michael Hain, the store manager, and Mark Ernestus, the owner, and started working there, all within a very short time.
It’s every young DJs dream to work in a record shop. Did you always know you’d work in one? What would you be doing if you weren’t there?
I worked in a second hand vinyl store when I was studying in the early 90s, but that was more to fund my own vinyl purchases. When I started DJing in the 80s I was not trying to get a job in a record shop, I only liked visiting them and it was that way for years. My focus at university was actually on film history, not music. But apart from a brief stint reviewing movies for De:bug magazine I never really did anything with that, nor did I really intend to. I also worked as an editor for art books a few years ago. But at some point I realized that it always fell back to activities connected to music, because it probably is what I know and do best. So I stuck with it. If I would not be there I would be doing something else, but it probably would have something to do with music as well.
What do you look for in a record when buying for Hard Wax?
Something new, or at least different. A personal signature. Ideas. Integrity. Attitude. When the record is referential I check if the references are used in a smart way, and if aspects are added that were not there before. I also take a good look at the proportion of value and money. I adjust my level of support for a release according to the level of how these criteria are met.
What led you to buy your first vinyl record? And what was it?
I started taping radio shows in the mid 70s, but I did not have enough pocket money to afford buying records then. But I already had a record player and I used to play records from my parents’ collection. When I was 9 years old, in 1978, I recorded Blondie’s Heart Of Glass and decided to buy it on 7“. When I entered the record store I just knew that I loved the song and her voice in particular, but I did not even know what she looked like. I was probably assuming that she had blonde hair, but not really that she looked that fabulous on the cover, and what she really was about. I probably learnt quite a few lessons about pop culture at once with that purchase, and soon I started spending nearly all the money I had on records.
We’ve just had record store day in the UK. Do you have any comment on it? Do you see it as a celebration or capitalisation of record buying culture?
It is the same in Germany, and I think it is the same all over the world. Which is why the recent negative implications of the event weigh in so heavily. Hard Wax decidedly never took part. We stated from early on that for us every day is a record store day, and that is basically it. But we feel the fallout from RSD as anybody else in the business nonetheless, especially the delays with the pressing plants, which affect our distribution as well, for example, and the releases we buy from other distributors. That has improved a bit lately, but it is still a tremendously hypocritical event, and that does not seem to improve. Nearly everybody’s trying to cash in now on a format that was willfully pronounced dead before, and nearly everything is blocked by back catalogue you can find around every corner, just in different layouts and for a much lesser price. Old wine in new skins. And the new grapes cannot be harvested because of it. It is totally absurd. There may have been some respectable thought implied with it once, but as soon as the major labels entered it predictably withered away into nothing. They want to gentrify vinyl into pricier artifacts instead, for customers that care more about the item itself than the music it contains. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted: April 8th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Mixes | Tags: Chicago, Inner City, Paris, Radio, Razormaid, The Blow Monkeys, Valentino, Vocals | No Comments »

Finn Johannsen – Vocals Matter Part 03 (1988) by Finn Johannsen on hearthis.at
Fingers Inc. – Can You Feel It (Vocal Version)
Turntable Orchestra – You’re Gonna Miss Me
Raze – Break 4 Love (English Version)
Kym Mazelle – Useless (Moody Mix)
Keith, Kat, & Blondie – Gotta Get Some Money (Ladies & Gents Vocal)
Sha-Lor – I’m In Love (Caught Up Version)
Adeva – Respect (12“ Extended Version)
Hanson & Davis – Can’t Stop (Vocal Dub)
Red Flag – Russian Radio (Razormaid Club Mix)
The Blow Monkeys – This Is Your Life (Long)
Will Downing – A Love Supreme (Psycho Supreme Remix)
Myoshi Morris – Muzik (Co-Ed Entertainment Mix)
Bigger Than Life! – World Of Make Believe (Vocal Mix)
Sterling Void – Runaway Girl (Pimp Dub)
Julian Jumpin’ Perez Feat. Valentino – Stand By Me (House Mix)
Rickster – Night Moves (Night House Mix)
Victor Romeo – Love Will Find A Way (Radio)
Inner City – Good Life (Mike Hitman Wilson’s Chicago Mix)
Fred Fowler – Times Are Changin’ (Extended Mix)
Masquerade – Real Love (Extended)
Fingers Inc- Never No More Lonely
Joe Smooth – I Try
Joe Smooth – Promised Land (Club Mix)
Paris – Learn To Love (Extended Mix)
Christian Alexander – Body & Spirit
Posted: March 26th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: de:bug, Elektro Guzzi, Front, Hamburg, Modyfier, Radio, Stefan Goldmann, Uncanny Valley | No Comments »

How come you did
3 mixes for our podcast series?
The original idea was to record mixes for my wife to listen to in the car on her way to work. She loves anything UK and bass & breakbeats related, but I have not made a mix for her before with the styles contained here. It was meant to be one longer mix at first, but then I found too many tracks in the shelves I just had to include. It was the same with a 90s Deep House retrospective I did for Modyfier early last year. I’m afraid I cannot portion myself anymore. And I hope it does not become a habit, it really messed up my weekly schedule.
Can you tell us something about the concept behind every mix?
The concept is really simple. Mix 1 starts with 80 BPM, Mix 3 ends with 150 BPM, halftime though. The pace gradually increases in between, and the mixes are more sequenced then mixed. Predominantly for listening purposes, but feel free to move if you want to move. The music is a diverse mix of Grime, Hip Hop, R&B, Dubstep and affiliated sounds. As mentioned, the reason I chose these sounds were mainly motivated by my wife’s preferences, but recently I was also getting really fed up with the current high level of pretentiousness in club music. Every day I hear House and Techno music and I see designs and read track titles or concepts that are desperately pretending something but there is actually not much going on beneath the surface. There is some longing for intellectual weight and diffuse deeper meanings, but there is a considerable discrepancy between creative intention and creative result, and a disappointing display of conservative ideas in the process. I think a lot of the music you can hear in these mixes is not afraid to use commercial elements and turn them into something that is innovative and more forward-looking than other club music styles that want to be advanced, but in fact just vary traditional formulas. You may argue that lot of the tracks I have chosen sound similar to each other as well, but I would like to think of the listening experience as a whole, and that for me presents a much appreciated alternative. I do not think it is better than other music I am more associated with as a DJ, but for me it helps to look elsewhere as soon as routine creeps in. I usually regain patience with the sounds I am normally occupied with if I do so. But apart from a regular change of perspective, I also cannot listen to 4/4 club music more than I do for all my work commitments. That is more than enough. I like to reserve my little leisure time for music I do not know as well.
You’ve been heavily influenced by Hamburg’s legendary club Front. Do you think that a club nowadays can have such massive impact on local and even nationwide music scenes like back in the days when dance music was born?
I don’t think so. At least not until you can present a sound that is new. In that aspect Front is a good example. It existed from 1983 to 1997. Just think of all the new club music styles that occurred in that period of time, and then compare that to the last few years. Apart from Grime and Dubstep most new music played in clubs now is a variation of the music that came into being in said period. I am very grateful that I belong to the generation that could witness that directly on the floor. Pioneering days are always easier. Of course the combination of extraordinary DJs, a dedicated crowd and a unique location and interior will always work, but I think that in recent years a lot of clubs did not become widely known for paving the way for crucial musical developments. They became widely known for good bookings that make a difference and for being an outstanding attraction as a club itself. Clubs and DJs can still inspire new ideas and even change lives, but I doubt this now happens on more than an individual scale. I welcome the next lasting musical revolution in club culture though, it is overdue.
Macro has always been a very versatile sounding label covering new and almost forgotten releases. Who does what at Macro?
Stefan Goldmann concentrates on the manufacturing, mastering and administrative side of the label, I concentrate on how we communicate what we do to the outside world and the digital and virtual part of our catalogue. But we both decide what we want to release and with what artwork. And we are in constant touch with each other about every aspect running a label requires. There is no other way, at least not for us.
What are the future plans for the label?
We are constantly looking for new talents that we feel can add something other to the canon. Thus we signed the band KUF, whose first single is out while you are reading this. They are also working on their debut album, due later this year. And then we always appreciate new material by artists we already worked with. Elektro Guzzi for example are also working on a new album, others to be confirmed will follow suit. There will be new material from Stefan as well, which will probably draw from recent commissioned works. And there will be another album with compositions by Stefan’s father, the late Friedrich Goldmann. For the rest of the future, we just try to keep going as long as we enjoy to keep going.
You’ve written for the highly acclaimed but now gone German print magazine De:Bug. Do you miss it? What do you think of today’s dance music journalism?
I actually do miss it, yes. De:Bug offered content that other German music magazines do not offer, or do not want to offer. Every defunct print magazine takes away something that is not necessarily replaced. Not by other magazines, and also not by web media. And there are not enough websites in Germany that reach a wider readership. I can remember a lot of people sneering at the demise of De:Bug, they felt a print magazine was outdated anyway. But every media outlet passing away also diminishes the reach you can have with what you do. And in times when it is quite a struggle to make a living from whatever profession within the music industry, this is a problem. Unfortunately this struggle also changed today’s music journalism. For the worse, in my opinion. There is more clickbait controversy than well researched discourse. Occasional thinkpieces are presented as something exceptional, when they should be the norm. I notice a worrying increase in factual mistakes when I read print or web media these days. There probably is not enough budget for sufficient editing, but even if the small budget only allows freelancers and interns and only a few journalists on a monthly payroll, thorough supervision should be a must. Otherwise you can hardly justify that people should still buy a print magazine for example. And too much online music journalism is just a newsfeed. I get a lot of PR mails on a daily basis, and a lot of them I will find on websites only shortly later, too often without any own words added. Music journalism should offer individual perspectives and opinions, based on individual research. Else there is not enough to learn from it. I think it is a bit sad that a lot of interesting debates about music happen on social media, and they are not even sparked by interesting features in other media. A good music journalist should try to lead the way, and not vice versa. And in any case the traffic obligations should not lead the way either.
Back then journalists were always one step ahead and everyone relied on their reviews. Now you can stream everything via Soundcloud or preview via the shop websites. From your record shop buyer perspective: are record reviews still relevant for you?
Not really. I mostly order releases for Hard Wax weeks in advance before the according reviews are published. Web is usually quicker than print, but still most reviews are connected to actual release dates. The rest of the texts sent my way want to sell their product, they are not reviews per definition. But I always choose to remain as neutral as possible. I listen to the music first, and then I may read the accompanying text about it. In my experience as a buyer it is very advisable to follow your own instincts. I register the opinions of distributors, labels and early adopters, particularly if I think they are reliable. But they do not really influence my decisions what to buy, and in what quantity. That is a different reality.
Lowtec told us that they were calling Hard Wax from their telephone booth back in the 90s and that one of the sellers previewed them the tracks via phone. When and where did you started buying music and how did that change over the time?
I bought my first records in the mid 70s, when I was about six years old. And then I never stopped. You only learnt about new music from friends, record stores, magazines, books and radio. Sometimes it took me quite a while to figure out certain tracks I liked in clubs, sometimes I never succeeded. The internet of course changed all that dramatically. You can learn about anything in a short time, and then you can purchase it a few clicks further. I also called up Hard Wax to buy records in the early 90s, holding up the newsletter leaflet with highlighted picks. That always felt a bit awkward, compared to just browsing through the crates of a well selected record store. But however convenient it is nowadays to gather knowledge about music and then acquire it, it is not necessarily more exciting to do so. The process almost completely neglected the element of surprise and there is a linear way to what you want. Still, whenever I find a record in a store I was not aware of before, it feels much more satisfying than finding music online. Store finds beat web finds, and I like surprises. And I do not want anything to fall into my hands, I do not want to feel lazy. And I will probably never value an audio file in the same way I value a record. I think you lose the respect for the music you are listening to if you do. But all that is a generational thing, even if a lot of people way younger than me are getting into vinyl. It is the privilege and imperative of youth to question the habits of the previous generations. I certainly did the same. But now I gladly act my age.
We’re always wondering how do you manage the flood of new releases as Hard Wax buyer?
You have to organize yourself cleverly and you have to know what you can ignore and when. And you have to develop ways to keep being interested. If you lose your curiosity, you have a problem. Personally, the minority of records that I find interesting outweighs the majority of records I do not find interesting.
Will there ever be a book about those famous one-liners?
We are aware of the cult status our comments have, but for us they are more a means to an end than anything else. But if someone rises to occasion, I hope it is highly recommendable to the point of being killer, and not just writer tool literature.
Finally, what do your children think about what you do?
I have a wonderful five year old daughter, and she knows exactly what I do. She likes to listen to music, either on her little cassette or CD players, or when I play records to her. She thinks I have too many records, but she also likes them. Especially since she brought some of her Kindergarten friends to my room and none of them had ever seen a record, or a turntable, and jaws dropped. She copes with me being away on weekends or working at night by thinking I am at least a little bit famous, and that what I do makes some people happy. She might even be a bit proud of me when she hears or sees me play on the web, or when she sees photos of me somewhere, or flyers and posters, or articles I wrote. But it is not too important for her and she does not want to do my job later on either, because she likes to sleep at night, and have her weekends off. Her favourite tracks are “Die Roboter” and “I Like To Move It”.
Finn Johannsen – Uncanny Valley Podcast 40.1 by Finn Johannsen on hearthis.at
Info
D The Koreatown Oddity – Title Sequence
Jhené Aiko – To Love & Die
Kid A – BB Bleu (Original Demo)
Nosaj Thing – Let You
Mr. Mitch – Dru
S-Type – Lost Girls
Banks – F**k Em Only We Know
Lil Silva – Don’t You Love
Hudson Mohawke – Ryderz
Jam City – Crisis (Special Mix)
Cassie – About Time
Cid Rim – Red Ocean
Jhené Aiko – Lyin King
Morgan Zarate – SP
KUF – Odyssee
Dolor – Our Number
Cassie – Just One Nite
Hudson Mohawke – All Your Love
Mr. Mitch – Padded
NxxxxxS – Ice Cold Ocean
Shriekin – Red Beach (Strict Face’s Starfall Edition)
Silk Road Assassins – T
Morgan Zarate – Pusher Taker
KUF – Wildlife
Blood Orange – You’re Not Good Enough
Fhloston Paradigm – Chasing Rainbows
Carby – Speechless
Rosie Lowe – Right Thing
Gent Mason – Eden
Kuedo – Memory Rain
Throwing Shade – Mystic Places
Plata & Glot – Ghosted
Cooly G – He Said I Said
Snoop Dogg – Sensual Eruption (Instrumental)
Blood Orange – High Street
Tala – On My Own In Hua Hin
Kingdom – Goodies Remix
Hudson Mohawke – Indian Steps
LHF Vs The Ragga Twins – Street Wise
Dizzee Rascal – Strings Hoe (Wen Refix)
Kuedo – Whisper Fate
The Range – Two
Kuedo – Vectoral
Epoch – Windmill
Posted: February 15th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Texte Deutsch | Tags: Berlin, Boris Dlugosch, Derrick Carter, Front, Groove, Kiel, Palais Schaumburg, Radio, Stefan Goldmann, Theo Parrish | 4 Comments »

1977 bin ich acht Jahre alt, und ein Virtuose der Pausen-Taste meines BASF-Kassettenrekorders. Ich nehme vornehmlich Disco und Glam Rock-Ausläufer aus dem Radio auf. Werner Veigel ist der Yacht Rock-Don von NDR 2. Dann sagt Wolf-Dieter Stubel in der Internationalen Hitparade beim gleichen Sender angesäuert „God Save The Queen“ von den Sex Pistols an. Ich bin nicht überzeugt, aber das Musikprogramm wird in den folgenden Jahren wesentlich interessanter.
1981 habe ich das Nachtprogramm vom NDR entdeckt. Innerhalb kurzer Zeit nehme ich unfassbare Konzerte von Palais Schaumburg, Deutsch-Amerikanische Freundschaft und The Wirtschaftswunder auf.
1985 hat das Format-Radio Einzug gehalten, und es läuft gefühlt nur noch Phil Collins.
1985 wird Paul Baskerville schon wieder einen Sendeplatz beim NDR los, und spielt zum Abschied ausschließlich fantastische Musik aus seiner Heimatstadt Manchester.
1988 tanze ich seit zwei Jahren zu House in Hamburger und Kieler Clubs. Zum ersten Mal im Radio höre ich die Musik aber in einer mehrstündigen Live-Übertragung aus dem Hannoveraner Club Checkers.
1989 höre ich auf einer langen Autofahrt durch Frankreich eine beeindruckende Sendung namens „Ecstasy Club“. Aus Müsique forevör! Kurze Zeit später in Palma, auch nur noch House in der Playlist. Deutschland? Fehlanzeige.
1991 fahre ich durch Niedersachsen und kann endlich mal wieder John Peel auf BFBS hören. Er spielt dreimal hintereinander „Gypsy Woman“. Beim zweiten Mal summe ich mit.
1993 bin ich in London und mache im Hotelzimmer das Radio an. Noch am gleichen Tag kaufe ich auf dem Portobello Market zahlreiche Kassetten-Mitschnitte von amerikanischen DJs auf Kiss FM und englischen Jungle DJs. Ich will auch Piratensender.
1994 ist meine Freundin als Au Pair in Rom und schickt mir Tape-Mitschnitte von überragenden House-Shows des Senders Radio Centro Suono. Ich bin froh, dass es ihr so gut geht.
1994 startet Boris Dlugosch aus dem Hamburger Clubs Front seine Mixshow auf dem Jugendsender N-Joy. Jahre zu spät für das regelmäßige Club-Erlebnis im Radio, aber trotzdem höchst willkommen.
1995 zu Besuch in Berlin, letzte Love Parade auf dem Kurfürstendamm. Vor ihren Club-Gigs spielen eine Menge DJs im Radio. Ich kriege bis heute nicht raus, von wem der „When Doves Cry“-Bootleg ist, den alle zu haben scheinen.
1997 habe ich auch dieses Internet, arbeite mich systematisch durch die historischen Radioaufnahmen der Mix-Sektion der Deep House Page und rücke Kontexte zurecht. Ich brauche alles von WBLS und WBMX und komme mir aus nationaler Perspektive jetzt erst recht betrogen vor.
1999 verbrenne ich eine Menge Geld, um mit meinem AOL-Einwähltarif in Echtzeit ohne Buffer-Aussetzer das Set von Derrick Carter bei der Beta Lounge auf Kassette aufzunehmen und hasse den Real Player mehr als die CDU.
2001 habe ich auch dieses Breitband-Internet. Jetzt brauche ich alle historischen Radioshows, die ich kriegen kann. Kurze später finde ich heraus was ein monatliches Datenvolumen ist. Fies.
2002 habe ich auch diese Breitband-Flatrate und höre regelmäßig das Cybernetic Broadcast System. Dass Italo Disco, die heimlich verehrte Prollmusik meiner frühen Jugend, einmal derart hip sein würde, hätte ich niemals gedacht. Die anderen Bestandteile des Programms freuen mich aber auch.
2004 rotiert auf dem CBS der Acid House-Mix „Smileyville“, den ich mit einem Freund angefertigt habe. Result.
2005 sammle ich immer noch ausgiebig historische Radioshows und Club-Mitschnitte über gängige Suchmaschinen, aber jetzt kommen auch noch Podcasts hinzu. Ich verweigere mich iTunes und lade umständlich einzeln herunter.
2007 frage ich mich, was Steinski wohl so treibt und entdecke seine Themen-Sendungen auf WMFU. Ich höre begeistert Radio, als wären es wieder die 80er. Ein Moderator, ein Thema, Musik zum Thema. Vielleicht geht doch alles etwas zu schnell.
2007 erzählt mir Eric Wahlforss von seinem Start Up zum Austausch unter Musikern und gibt mir einen Voucher. Auf Soundcloud entdecke ich allerdings auch bereits reichlich Fremdeigentum. Mir schwant juristisches Konfliktpotential.
2007 gründe ich mit Freunden das Webzine D*ruffalo und dessen DJ-Exekutive, die D*ruffalo Hit Squad. Wir initiieren die Druffmix-Serie und peitschen nacheinander alles durch, was uns jemals musikalisch begeistert hat.
2010 schaue ich mir Theo Parrish im Boiler Room an, vom Schreibtisch aus. Ich frage mich wie viel bequemer alles noch werden wird, bevor es alle langweilt.
2011 Entnervt von den allwöchentlichen Gig-File-Tauschbörsen entscheiden Stefan Goldmann und ich den DJ-Mailout unseres Labels Macro einzustellen und stattdessen nur noch Radioshows zu bemustern. Wir recherchieren bis in die entlegensten Winkel und sind erstaunt, was es alles gibt.
2013 beginne ich nach diversen Gastauftritten bei terrestrischen und virtuellen Radiosendern über die Jahre bei dem neu gegründeten Berlin Community Radio meine monatliche Sendung „Hot Wax“. Eigentlich will ich nur präsentieren, was ich mir an neuer Musik von Hard Wax mitnehme, aber dann peitsche ich nacheinander alles durch, was mich jemals musikalisch begeistert hat.
2014 sitze ich auf einem Podium zum Thema Radio und Clubkultur. Monika Dietl hat eine Tüte mit Kassetten dabei, und spielt umwerfende Highlights ihrer Sendungen aus den 90ern vor. Nur Musik zu spielen, wie man es zur Zeit meistens macht, ist eben doch oft nicht alles.
2015 beugt sich Soundcloud dem Druck der Majors bezüglich Copyright-Verletzungen und löscht im Zuge auch die Accounts der Internet-Radiosender NTS, Red Light und Berlin Community Radio. Es folgt ein Exodus zu Mixcloud und anderen Plattformen, mit erheblichem Verlust an Reichweite.
2015 stelle ich aus Zeitmangel schweren Herzens „Hot Wax“ ein, nach 35 Sendungen.
2016 stelle ich zufällig fest, dass ich hundert Mitschnitte von Froggy & The Soul Mafia archiviert habe, obwohl mir die von ihnen gespielte Musik oft zu jazzfunkig und raregroovig ist, um mir das öfter anzuhören. Es ist mir aber egal. Ich weiß noch, wie es 1977 war.
Groove März/April 2016

Posted: January 19th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Reviews, Texts English | Tags: Anthems, Berlin, David Bowie, Electronic Beats, Interview, Paris, Radio | No Comments »

I loved a lot of David Bowie songs throughout my life. His landmark albums from the early 70s were still a staple of the radio shows I recorded to cassettes from the mid 70s on. Glam anthems, way ahead to my ears then what became of it in the charts around that time. Glam outfits that were equally way ahead. David Bowie was already somewhere else, of course, anticipating the Disco phenomenon I would soon so love, with Philly’s finest. Then following that up with the Berlin trilogy that would inspire legions to create something great, and look great while doing it, too. Then, when I ran around in 60s clothes in my early 80s coastal smalltown youth, I discovered that he already had been there in the best way imaginable, and his early Pye singles were exactly the attitude and sound I was looking for. He was the definite face. He made no mistakes. He even descended to the kids he created with „Ashes To Ashes“, and he blessed them, as they worshipped him. He was a terrific actor on screen as well, making good use of his ever magnetic charisma and sexually confusing identities there, too. Whatever he did, you watched him very closely, else you could have missed out on crucial developments.
When „Let’s Dance“ was announced as being produced by Nile Rodgers, another inerrable hero of mine, I had the highest expectations, but then could not help feeling let down. There were moments, but not enough of them. And in the period of the mid 80s shortly after, pop’s most successful stars could earn a fortune without even the slightest vision (let alone sound), and David Bowie simply became one of them. As soon as he was dancing in the street with Mick I was just embarrassed. Even his outfits were embarrassing. I was really surprised that this could happen. Enter the years of hit and miss. For every glimpse of his former cool self resurfacing, „Absolute Beginners“ or „Hallo Spaceboy“ for example, he took decisions that were unforgiveably below his par, think Tin Machine, among others. Given, you cannot be visionary forever, however visionary you once were. And David Bowie was more constantly visionary than anybody else, for a long time. But the visions at one point were had by others. Not surprisingly he displayed a clever instinct for picking the right ones to utilize for his purposes, but still they were attached. I did not mind, he was performing the elder statesmanship with grace, and as so many artists were still working ideas he already had before, there was nothing left to prove, only if he wanted to. So screw the stock bonds. I sincerely felt happy for him and his family. He deserved it. Then he kind of disappeared.
When he reappeared in 2013, it felt like out of the blue. „Where Are We Now?“ was the first song of his in years I listened to repeatedly. It was beautiful and it felt good to have him back. I was slightly surprised by its sadness, but I thought it was quite a statement to base its sentiment about the most lauded creative period of your career. It challenges comparisons, and I was sure he was still creatively ambitious enough to try and deal with them, no matter what he achieved before. „The Next Day“ was a good album, too. He did not try to reinvent himself, he looked back on what he invented. I visited the Bowie exhibition that was doing the same in Berlin, just in time before it closed, and I enjoyed it very much. It all came back, rather predictably. His stage outfits on display proved he was a small man, but he surely did not have a small mind.
I did not expect that he would follow that retrospective phase so soon, if at all. And I absolutely did not expect that he would follow it up with an album like „Blackstar“. As before, David Bowie chose to remain silent, relying on producer Tony Visconti to reveal the news of its release. I read his trusted cohort doing that in an interview while travelling. He spoke of references like Kendrick Lamar, Death Grips and Boards Of Canada, and that rock and roll was to be avoided. David Bowie recruited a potent jazz quartet from a New York bar for the recordings. It was all rather promising. When I got asked to write these lines I initially wished I could have listened to the entire album when he was still alive, as I was already overwhelmed to the point of numbness by the reactions to his sudden demise. But when I then listened to it, it became obvious very quickly that he was fully aware that he would have passed away once the public would be fully exposed to it. And that it is pivotal to picture the dying artist for the whole experience. The songs are brilliant. Complex and dense, or just stunning, indeed avoiding rock and roll stereotypes, even if the jazz only adds to the picture instead of dominating it. The mood is intense, but it is not entirely dark. Thinking of the motivation behind this album, David Bowie sounds astonishingly swinging, his beloved voice delivering clever lyrics ranging between the horror of his own decay and the feeling of arriving there content, at ease with himself, with truths simultaneously personal and universal. The video to „Lazarus“ is frightening to watch, but comically absurd as well. The last photographs of him taken show him in a sharp suit, lauging. The way he orchestrated his own requiem is incredible, exactly as he wanted to, and as only he could. Being David Bowie, setting lasting examples yet again. Superior, even in death.
Electronic Beats 01/16
Posted: January 6th, 2016 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: Electronic Beats, I-F, Interview, Prefab Sprout, Radio, Rewind, The Blue Nile, Truly-Madly | No Comments »

In discussion with truly-madly on “Hats” by The Blue Nile (1989).
How did you come across this album for the first time?
In my early teens I was quite nerdily into hi-fi – it didn’t stop there to be honest – so there would always be a copy of „What Hi-Fi“ knocking about, covered in drooled saliva at the valve amp page. The magazine had a small music review section – I don’t recall usually paying much attention to this but for some reason I read the entry for „Hats“. I don’t remember what it said but something in it must have appealed to my inner angst – nor did that stop there either – at that time. Surely the word ‘melancholy’ was used. So I bought it blindly (the cassette). At that time I was listening to bits of everything, early House, Synth Pop, Indie, and I was buying vinyl but had this odd mental divide that meant I would buy albums on cassette and singles on 12”. And actually I only finally bought „Hats“ on vinyl fairly recently – random find at Rough Trade Portobello in London.
Why did you choose „Hats“ for this interview? What are its special credentials for you?
It would probably be too difficult to choose a House or Techno album, which might be the natural thing to do, and this was the first that came to mind otherwise. I still think it’s quite obscure in a way, despite being part of the mainstream, and seemingly more popular than I realised.
My first encounter with The Blue Nile was probably hearing „Tinseltown In The Rain“ on the radio, from their first album „A Walk Across The Rooftops“, released in 1983. Do you like that as well?
I like all their stuff but don’t remember anything pre-“Hats“. I now know Tinseltown was some kind of hit but don’t directly recall it from the radio, etc. But occasionally I’ll hear it, in a cab or something, and think there is more to it than simply having listened to it from the album, that maybe I did hear it around the time it came out. That first album, and „Hats“, they are the best ones for me.
For me it is a topic worthy of thorough academic research how the electronic music of the Synthpop era and beyond is so often pared with very charismatic lead voices. Is this only for contrast, or is there more to it?
Erm, is it too late to change my album? Read the rest of this entry »
Posted: December 7th, 2015 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: Chez Damier, DJ Pierre, Radio, Rewind, Ron Trent, rRoxymore | No Comments »

In discussion with rRoxymore on “KMS 049 B1” by Chez Damier (1993).
What was the first time you heard this track?
I think I heard that track on a recorded DJ mix that was often played in a local radio where I grew up. It was a mix by Darren Emerson, if I remember correctly, recorded during one of these epic raves at that time. Eventually I had that mix recorded on a tape myself, and I was playing it from time to time in my teenage bedroom after school or on weekends. This was in the mid 90’s I think. I never knew who was the producer of the track at that time, I discovered it years after.
Why does it stand out for you? What makes it so special?
It brings me right back to my raving teenage years, just listening to that tape in my bedroom. I think what has always caught me in that track is that gimmick, the weeping sound of the chords, it sounds almost like breathing, and also it is difficult to identify how that sound has been made. Is it the sound of a keyboard chords, or strings, or voices mixed with strings and something else? It has always been a mystery for me and and it still is. That sound, which is obviously the signature of the track, has an unusual character. It is almost some sound design. Even though I guess it is a just preset on a synth, haha. It has always stood out from the dance music production of that time and still is. Maybe because it makes it more difficult to categorize it. Just compare it to the A side which is obviously a House music track. The B side is much more ambiguous stylistically in terms of aesthetics. Is it House music or is it Techno music? That is why I like it so much.
The A-side of this record is probably as legendary. Do you like it as well?
Yes I like it too, but for me it sounds definitely more like a classic House track. Even though, as you said, it became legendary. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted: December 3rd, 2015 | Author: Finn | Filed under: Interviews English | Tags: Daft Punk, Dimitri From Paris, DJ Fett Burger, DJ Sneak, Interview, Masters At Work, Radio, Rewind, Romanthony | 1 Comment »

In discussion with DJ Fett Burger on “Homework” by Daft Punk (1996).
How did „”Homework”“ found its way to your years? Was it by coincidence, or did you seek it out on some recommendation?
It was totally by a coincidence. I think it was back in the fall or winter of 1996 or something, I can’t really remember. My brother and me were listening to the radio one evening in the kitchen. Back then, we always listened to the radio when we were eating or hanging out, usually making drawings. In Norway around the time it was a channel called NRK P3. It’s still around, and it was one of the main National broadcasting channels. There were three of them. NRK P1 the original, NRK P2 mostly for culture, and NRK P3 for the younger generation. This station was aiming for a younger audience – but in a very different way than today. They used to have a broad selection of different programs. My favorite was the programs in the morning and afternoon because they had a lot of intelligent humor and also sometimes pushed things a bit further in terms of what was socially acceptable, at least back then. In the evenings, six days a week, they had different shows dedicated to music belonging to a certain scene or niche. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday it was Roxrevyen, which later became Karlsens Kabin, and Hal 9000. Karlsens Kabin mainly covered indie music, but also electronic music. Hal 9000 with Harald Are Lund was a broad selection of rock, electronic and experimental music with a very open minded approach. A lot of older things got played as well. Friday, it was National Rap Show with Tommy Tee, Hip Hop concentration mostly on early nineties East Coast Hip Hop. And then, Saturday, it was DJ Dust with Funk and Disco, DJ Strangefruit with his eclectic selections, and later in the evening DJ Abstract with mostly House and Techno. On Sunday it was Chill Out with DJ Friendly in the morning and Ambolt on Sunday evening, which was dedicated to Metal and harder Rock. Overall, NPK P3 had a pretty broad selection of music from different scenes. It provided a great musical education for when you are young and from a small Norwegian town. These programs were so dedicated to their scene, they always played a lot of demos or unreleased music. Karlsens Kabin and Hal 9000 played some of our oldest music, even things only made on CD-R, so it was a very supportive scene on the radio back then. You can just imagine how crazy it was for us back then being played on national radio!
OK, now back to the question. First time I heard something from Daft Punk was through Karlsens Kabin or Roxrevyen as it was called then. It was a mid-week evening, and suddenly “Around The World” was on the radio. This was before it was a big hit, and before people knew what Daft Punk was. It was probably a radio promo that was played or something like that.
It just blew my mind at the time. Back then it was so cool, different, even strange. Right after they played the song, they said the name and title of the song. And one second later I forgot it all, except the song. But a few months later, Daft Punk was everywhere with “Da Funk” and “Around The World” on MTV all day long.
Do you like the album as a whole, or are there personal highlights, or even tracks you do not like as much?
I like the album as a whole. Before when it was new, you could hear the hits everywhere, so I was pretty familiar with them. I remember when my brother and I got the album. It was an interesting listening experience, since most of the tracks were actually not hits or mainstream material. For instance, “Rollin’ & Scratchin’, “High Fidelity”, “Rock’n Roll”, “Indo Silver Club”, “Alive” or the intro “Wdpk837 Fm.” But, since everything was on the album, it just became associated with something mainstream.
Now it’s a classic of course, but back then, it was the combination of making something catchy, a bit more demanding, and for a scene. In this case, obviously House and Techno. You can hardly say that something is demanding or edgy on the album anymore, because of its place in music history. I think there still are some tracks that are edgy. Back then, for a 15-year-old kid without any experience, this was a big and new thing. Just imagine what influence this had. I remember even in the beginning, I didn’t like “Rollin’ & Scratchin.’ However, it changed after I gained more of an understanding for where the song and its influences came from.
For me, the whole album is a personal highlight. There are different vibes to the tracks and your mood shifts. Some songs are more uplifting, some more mellow, and some noisy or slow. But everything is a favorite of mine in different ways. They all have different elements of influences for me in terms of musical education. The whole album is a favorite of mine. Everything, from how the sound is mixed, the way Daft Punk samples, the artwork aesthetic, the music videos and Daft Punk’s anonymity at the time. It’s a whole package, and I embraced it all. I loved it all and still do!
Read the rest of this entry »
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