Hehehehe gimme that fuckin red book cos this is my life!

it’s this man’s fault

So, some freak was definitely born in a volcano BUT he actually genuinely came into existence after Rob Fangle read this.

It’s a review of a party I went to that Rob put on. I had bought my first set of turntables about a week before this party and blagged my way onto the decks at the very end of the night. When writing about the party I didn’t really want to mention the fact that I’d played at it as well so I just referred to myself as some freak.

It got capitalised by the subeditor and Rob read the review and as I’d just got decks and didn’t have a DJ name, he said ‘Well then Si, that should be your DJ name then.’

And Some Freak was born. Thankyou Rob Fangle!

PS This was a big night in more ways than one – I met Sofie that night for the first time, who became my mentor and dear friend. And later on, in the pub the following morning, Dub Cricket was born. What a momentous 24 hours indeed!

Yesssss nice and dramatic to draw you in!

Is true though, Some Freak is going to die…

dead – soon

A bit more than a year ago I made a bunch of really rough, quickly-made disco tunes. I set up a little myspace under the name Ruf Dug and added a bunch of disco ppl as friends. I mailed them as they got added and offered to send them copies of the tunes.

I got a really good response! A bunch of DJs that you’d have heard of got in touch asking for copies of tunes, and one of them who runs a very well-renowned label got in touch just before Christmas last year and said he wanted to sign one of the tracks – ‘Dirty’…

In the meantime, Chris Duckenfield had a copy of ‘Dirty’ and at the Electric Chair party in Manchester last Xmas he dropped it, prompting Luke unabomber to ask him for a copy, and for Chris to subsequently write to me, also asking to sign ‘Dirty’ to his label.

This little tune was causin a fair bit of trouble!

For my part, I was in the depths of a heavy depression; nearly all of my plans had died in the arse and I was back in my mother’s spare room with no cash (in fact I was in debt), I was bloody miserable, the weather was shit, I was lonely and didn’t know what the hell was going to happen next…

I resolved I had to clean myself the fuck up and so began a long process that started by going totally straight – no cigs, no herb, no booze, fuckin NOTHIN for three months straight… this was a brutal start to the journey, and soon after came a job, a car, even a girl for a moment (brief moment tho! wrong time…)..

still my favourite beauty… got better pedals now tho

I bought a bike and started to take more notice of the way my body worked, exercising it and feeding it properly, warmly, with love and good food. No longer being addicted to nicotine was amazing.

And from time to time, some tunes came, reflecting my various moods.

And in the background, this Ruf Dug tune continued its life, I heard about it being played at Optimo, at Horse Meat Disco, at all these places I’d read and heard about… while I was nurturing myself, rebuilding myself in so many ways, this little baby of mine was living the life I dreamt of. It even made it over to Australia!

BUT, the famous label never got back in touch and so it was some time in May that I wrote to Chris and said look, if you still want to sign the tune, it’s yours.

Within a matter of weeks he’d gotten the remixes done – The Goddam Unabombers coming in with one! As a Mancunian, as someone who’d only been able to admire the Electric Chair from (VERY) afar, this represented a sense of homecoming, of acceptance to me – the completion of a circle, as I return to my hometown now knowing what it is I will do on this earth, for some of the true dons of this place to remix me tune – is that fuckin portentious or WHAT?

And as summer dawned, and I started to feel settled, and the sun came out and the depression melted away, the record arrived.

window @ piccadilly records… this was MASSIVE for me, still is…

And it did pretty well man… #1 at Rush Hour, record of the week at Piccadilly, made it into a bunch of charts and we sold 811 copies (and I only bought 1 of them myself!)

And the timing of all this was just so right… and here I am at the end of the year, surrounded by the first pressing on my very own record label, Ruf Kutz. I’m releasing only 200 of this record, and it’ll only be available in five specific record stores. I’m dealing directly with each store, so I am the producer, the manufacturer and the distributor, and by handpicking the retail outlets I can make sure that your Ruf Kutz experience is nice and RAW like it should be.

thanks Col for the logo!

Heheheheh check me and my sales rant.

Anyway, point is this – Ruf Dug is something I am feeling VERY strongly… there’s a sense of a developed and specific aesthetic surrounding the whole Ruf Dug idea… the label, the mixtapes, the tracks and the DJ Sets… and fuck, there’s a bit of heat there right now and if you got some heat why not do a bit of cooking, hey?

BUT see Ruf Dug is not doin too badly but then what about Some Freak? At first I thought maybe Some Freak could be the producer behind the Ruf Dug project but that just isn’t working out, and Some Freak is too dear to me to simply just let languish.

And so he must die.

Some Freak will die before 2010. This is his last week. It’s basically me having one last hurrah as Some Freak before concentrating on Ruf Dug full time. I have a bunch of treats for you coming, a bit of a retrospective, some old DJ mixes, a couple of rare tunes, AN ENTIRE NEW ALBUM FOR FREE and a lovely mix to finish things off.

So pull up a chair during this holiday season as I bring you The Death Of Some Freak.

Priced by at the present 100 previously charge and carrier overlook, the Nokia 7230 is a in gadget phone so as to does seem to offer a plight of facial facade used used for the money.
While it isn’t exactly state of the art formerly it comes to specification, the 7230 does lengthen with 3G support, a 3.2 megapixel camera, a 2.4? QVGA vow situate on observation, FM give a buzz position, Bluetooth, microSD expandable reminiscence (with 2GB in the standard sales package) and a 3.5mm audio socket.

There are a the alternative drawbacks – the crucial lone is so as to the 7230 doesn’t support 3.5G data, there’s zilch camera light and the videotape recording capabilities are pretty ordinary.. But after that we wouldn’t really expect facial facade like so as to on a phone of this cost. It’s worth noting so as to Nokia say so as to the 7230 is skilled of a highest download break the break the speed limit limit of up to 2Mbps using UMTS, anywhere carriers can support it.

Nokia 7230 The Nokia 7230 runs the familiar Series 40 operating routine, it can and integrate with Facebook, Flickr and Ovi and it comes with all the usual facial facade such as a trap browser and email client and it and support Nokia Maps (although obviously it doesn’t contain GPS).

Maximum talktime is 3.7 hours on 3G with up to 16 days reserve generation, and the phone package comes in by a pocket-friendly 100 grams load and 98 x 48 x 15mm in size. There are two colour variations genial of graphite and tender pink.
This is a straightforward phone so as to be meant to be secure sufficient used used for as a have power over relatives formerly it comes to mobile Internet, alter playback and basic photography.. At the same time as well as making phone calls. It’s a secure looking handset too, and acknowledged all of these facial facade we think so as to it be meant to appeal to both prepay and credit contract customers.

The 7230 is a fancy-looking slider with decent facial appearance, as well as: 2.4 move slowly QVGA put on view, Bluetooth 2.1, 3.5mm headset jack, Nokia Maps, stereo FM telephone lines, 3.2MP camera and MicroSD certificate support. Theres nix GPS and neither Wi-Fi, in box youre wondering.

Nokia say so as to the 7230 be meant to be genial through Q1 2010. Just try not to confuse it with the Nokia 2370!

took a half-day off, and had a day out with Bro and Mummy dearest. (: (it’s rare to go out with Bro, because he’s always busy so I took a half-day off no matter what)

went to Cross Street to have a little heritage visitation. I used to remember the temple are always full of burning of incense and crowded with people. but by looking at it now, it seems kind of- lonely. and it had gone through major renovations on the ceilings, floor-tiles, the deity statues and poles which makes it stronger now. (that’s a good thing).

i guess 10 years down the road, that temple is going to turn into a museum (for people to visit rather than religious belief).

heritage is a precious memory that reminds us of what we were in the past

went to Cecil Street’s Maxwell Hawker Center for lunch. (I didn’t get to eat the lor-mee (which taste superb) highly recommended)

and over to ION, we walked round in circles just to find the isolated Swensen. (located in Orchard Exchange, not ION). I get to eat my Banana Split! *happy*

went back home before heading to the Library to fetch Lin before she ends her work. finally drank Coffee Bean’s- The Ultimate. (recommended by Wailing) It’s really nice…. and cold. (ha-ha)

just before I go

→Happy Birthday Mummy Dearest~! ♥

P/s. thank you dear for your wishes for my mummy! (:

The rain comes down in a medium but determined manner, the day appears windless and the sky is a medium gray. All the little holes in the window screens are full of water, and they vibrate as the wind I cannot see trembles them in their frames. The traffic swishes by in the watery streets four stories below, the slick sound of the cars’ tires and the occasional deeper note of a bus. Oh, how glad I am to live in a city again, particularly when the city is Portland, toward which my heart has yearned for a decade. Eleven months now and I’m still in love with the skyline and the patterns of the lights and the sounds of traffic.

When the weather permits, I enjoy sitting on the deck, particularly at night, and breathing in that wonderful air. I don’t know, nor do I care, what it is that so delights me about it, but it is a constant source of pleasure.  And how could a day that ends this way be anything but good?

Thought for the Day:  (From “Taps”)  “Day is done, Gone the sun…”

I have half the mind to pen down all the stuffs about our times out together! But I think that’ll take ages and ages, and thought I’ll just enjoy each post, taking my time to remember and savour those good times. They’ll probably not be in any order, but thought I’ll just pen them down anyhow! I can remember better those in which we took pictures. I guess, that’s why the camera is so useful. 

On 21st January 2009, we went out together on a museum date. At that time, we were simply good friends who had mutual feelings for each other, but did not spell anything out yet (although it might be already quite obvious by this time). Before that, I met Melody and Cheryl for lunch at DTF. And they gave me a box full of stuffs. C carried that entire box in his bag for me the whole day that followed. I remember going to the Singapore Arts Museum. I can’t really remember much of what happened on that day. But I remembered taking random photos with C’s newly bought camera then. We also got scolded by one of the guards because we took a photo at a prohibited place. It was funny, because we tried to avoid the guard by taking at a weird angle. Little did we know there was a CCTV on top of us ‘watching’ us. It was embarrassing, these little things we did. i think it’s this photo (look above) that caused the ’scolding’ from the guard! But the wall was awesome! 

And after our museum spree, we went to Starbucks because I wanted to study. C said he’ll go look at some climbing stuffs at Peninsula or something. So I remembered reading my Evolutionary Psychology textbook. And then quite a while later, C appeared in front of my face with a Starbucks’ Oreo Cheesecake and a candle. It was my birthday the following day. So the silly boy went to get a candle somewhere, and here’s a picture of the cake! It was a surprise for me, because I didn’t really expect anything. I think we only took one picture with the both of us in it, the one above at the museum. I guess that’s how things start. *smiles. That’s one of our first dates, more to come. 

-D-

Memory-solace-joy-smile
Heart-space-focus-leap
Self-sense-bond-hope
Peace-rain-haze-dream

Axle-soul-contact-feel
Link-warm-light-wish
Past-what-future-who
Now-prize-time-stop

Place-same-person-not
Me-You-You-Me
One-All-All-One
Love!

It’s great chatting with you again!
Though we still lack of topics to chat, but at least we’re chatting. That’s the main point

“Sit up straight.” he could still hear her voice in his head. R had had a booming voice: very feminine, but with a lot of strength. The best description one could give was ‘booming’. He chuckled at how she would have responded to this description. Come on, he scolded himself, you’re a writer; this should come naturally to you.

He had had a fight with his wife early that morning. Twelve years into a marriage, fights and quarrels were commonplace, but this one was weird off the bat. Unlike other fights, in this one, he knew she was right even though he kept fighting with her. The reason was obvious when you thought about it. Everything started the previous evening, around 6pm.

Someone had knocked on his office door. He winced as soon as he heard it. He had expressly told his secretary, “No calls!” Well, if she had let someone through, it had to be important. Damn it! He did not want anything important to disturb his Friday evening reverie. ‘Come in’, he said, hoping his unwelcoming tone would make things obvious to the intruder.

A short, wiry, bespectacled man entered. He could not help but notice the skilled hand tailoring of his suit. It was simply exquisite. The man kept it short. He was a probate lawyer for R. He gasped. Probate and R in the same sentence could mean only one thing. How did it happen, he asked. Automobile incident was the curt lawyerly reply. Why could these legal bozos never say simple words like road accident? So, why was this attorney here? Well, R had left him some special things, and a dying request. “What things, and what request?”, he asked, and immediately regretted the order of his questions.

The lawyer stoically replied that the things were in a box which would be Fedexed to him the next day. The request was for him to give her a eulogy at the funeral on Sunday. This Sunday? Yes. In two days. Shouldn’t be too hard for a writer. The lawyer left with as much discreetness as he had entered.

The sun came blazing through the open window and drenched his table in golden luminescence. He was doing that circling thing with his pen again. An observant friend in school had pointed out that he moved his pen in circles only when pondering something about rotation or uniform circular motion.

He strained his eyes to concentrate. He was sitting with a pen and paper for an hour now, with no words yet. The only sentence he had come up with were, “words cannot describe the impression she made on my life.” She was an ex, but more than that. He had been in three relationships before his marriage, each one with their own versions of pain. This one was strange. There was a didactic tone to this one. She taught him: something the others had not done. This was without doubt the most educational relationship he had been in. He could not say that: how was anyone to understand what that even meant? He could not even explain to his wife the importance that another woman held in his life. Understandably, she had pouted for about two hours before ‘allowing’ him to give the eulogy.

He remembered that evening in Manhattan. He hated walking in TriBeCa but she dragged him as always.  She had a keen eye, and spotted what looked like a presidential dollar coin on the sidewalk. As she tried to pick it up, there was a scream of April fool! as she realized that the coin was stuck to the ground. He laughed spontaneously and she did too, but as the joke grew on her, a tear started to roll down her eye. He realized that a reprimand was coming. She was the one person he knew who could combine maturity and child-like petulance into one mood. As he pacified her, he realized that this high-maintenance female was exactly what he wanted and she made him happy. He couldn’t write about this either. Too trivial an incident and no way someone else would see the meaning in it.

What to do then? He sipped his coffee and closed his eyes. Maybe a nap would do him good. The evening might be better. After all most of his best works were a product of a tearing hurry caused by an impending deadline, and the more desperation the better.

There are certain things I like to remember. Sometimes I take a picture of those things so if I someday forget, I’ll have a permanent reminder. For example, hands. And in this case, my grandparents’ hands.

When I look at their hands, I see more than hands. I see…

…years of selling Avon
…giving me endless chocolate popsicles when I was 6
…letting me taste her coffee when I was 5
…making pecan pie and blackberry cobbler in her kitchen
…laying out her domino train on my kitchen table
…holding her cards while we played
…pretending to rock my baby doll to sleep when I was 4

…peeling the shrimp for his famous gumbo
…fishing in the lake behind his house
…years of working on boats
…teaching me how to play pool in their game room at their Louisiana house
…lifting me in and out of the hot tub when I was 6
…swinging on the porch swing with me
…dumping the Tab out of their dog’s water bowl (I swear, she liked it)

Yes, I see a lot more than just hands. I’m thankful for their recent visit. And I’m thankful they are my grandparents.