Some enchanted evening. Room full of roses. How high the moon. For some reason it broke my heart, watching an elderly man slowly type the songs from his youth into a search box. As I walked through the park tonight, I wondered what I’ll search for when I’m grey and clutching a cane. Maybe I’ll be looking for Autechre and Basic Channel and Plastikman, the music that sounded like the future to me. Even now, I find myself craving the days when a 303 sounded like it contained all the mysteries and possibilities of the world.
Fuse v. Plastikman – Krossover
Krossover | Minus, 1999 | More
Each night in 2020 I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I want to etch these times into my memory before I forget them. Before the world changes completely.