I went into Jibbering Records today for a coffee with a friend of mine to talk about an online music project.
As usual, Rich (aka DJ Cro) was there, and he had just taken receipt of the new 7″ single he’s releasing by an artist called Serocee on his label Crate Escape Records (though this is labelled as being from JamBrum Records – for reasons that are too insider to try to explain).
Rich played me the record – the video for which is above – and I picked up number 11 of a limited run of 200.
I happened to have with me on the laptop a copy of a record by a friend of mine back in New Zealand. Andrew Spraggon releases as Sola Rosa and his new album is coming out early next year, so I’m led to understand – but I thought Rich might like to hear some of it.
I played a few tracks, which were met with approval. And then ‘I’ve Tried Ways’ came on.
“Oh, I think you’ll like this one…” I said.
“Um… that’s Serocee on vocals. What the hell?” said Rich.
And it was. What are the odds? I get a new record from Birmingham and a new record from New Zealand, play one to the person behind the other – and they feature the same guy.
That’s just bizarre.
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Andrew, that’s called the myspace effect. Geography don’t matter.
But I just argued the opposite on New Music Strategies!
Around my place it’s called a poodle moment. But it has roots in Repo Man:
Suddenly someone’ll say, like, plate, or shrimp…
Love that film. Can just about recite the whole thing.
Hey Andrew
This is related in no way to your coincidence story. Rather I am looking to tell on your wife. I bought a packed of Krispies biscuits for your family on Monday. For those reading this, Krispies are the answer to all of life’s questions. Especially Kiwis. They were mentioned in the Old Testament. Hindus often bathe in them. Jews only eat them on Fridays. Anyway, out of 30 biscuits (which would have split nicely into ten biscuits for all of your family) Bobbie has devoured 21 of them. The only consolation you can take from this is that is equal to 1200 calories and she wont fit into her jeans tomorrow and the gasps as she lies down on the bed trying to do up her fly, may, in time, bring you some comfort. Please supply me with postal details so I can send all future treats to you and your malnourished son. Quinny
Quinny. I have only one thing to say:
HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA