Woebot
Well-known member
has anyone else come across this magazine?
i've been picking it up but feel pretty ambivalently about it.
ok so it has a pretty clear remit, and one shouldnt necessarily attack things that have a clear remit. its sort of like attacking the wire innit? however so tightly conflated are a love of soul/funk/hiphop/brazilian_music/ smattering_of_reggae (the "warm canon") equated with obsessive record collecting that i half want stick my hand up and be counted as dissenter and half want to scream with irritation. all these fucking anecdotes about going back to old black dudes houses, and finding "mint condition" funk seven inches in boxes buried beneath superceded household goods. they're entertaining first time round but......
i am guilty of finding the whole "crate-digging" ethos as inscribed in templates of wax so horrifically tedious. maybe more than that the encoded charicactural stereotype is just not one i'll buy into namely: the sturdily masculine, distinctly gruesome, detente foundered on "respect for hip-hop" that unites black and white in sycophancy. and what are they not celebrating? they're not celebrating anything made after 1980 unless its Hip-Hop and then after the mid-nineties theyre not going to root for anything unless its "post-Premier" so Madlib gets ridiculous props (can we not all agree that the MF Doom LP is EXTREMELY MEDIOCRE?) you'll never find even the most grudging thing about modern HipHop, or modern Dancehall etc. its a very silly position. the least "wax poetical" thing i've seen in there was Phil Sherbernes oddball Turntabalist piece (big up yerself Phil)
however, griping aside, and complaining about it is so screamingly obvious, perhaps better to just submit grudgingly, there is some cool stuff in there. the depths of obscurity plumbed (often leading up to a tableau of meeting "said underground legend" in a cafe, ok i couldnt resist one more jab) are pretty impressive. and the mingering mike thing was cool wunnit. google "mingering mike"
i've been picking it up but feel pretty ambivalently about it.
ok so it has a pretty clear remit, and one shouldnt necessarily attack things that have a clear remit. its sort of like attacking the wire innit? however so tightly conflated are a love of soul/funk/hiphop/brazilian_music/ smattering_of_reggae (the "warm canon") equated with obsessive record collecting that i half want stick my hand up and be counted as dissenter and half want to scream with irritation. all these fucking anecdotes about going back to old black dudes houses, and finding "mint condition" funk seven inches in boxes buried beneath superceded household goods. they're entertaining first time round but......
i am guilty of finding the whole "crate-digging" ethos as inscribed in templates of wax so horrifically tedious. maybe more than that the encoded charicactural stereotype is just not one i'll buy into namely: the sturdily masculine, distinctly gruesome, detente foundered on "respect for hip-hop" that unites black and white in sycophancy. and what are they not celebrating? they're not celebrating anything made after 1980 unless its Hip-Hop and then after the mid-nineties theyre not going to root for anything unless its "post-Premier" so Madlib gets ridiculous props (can we not all agree that the MF Doom LP is EXTREMELY MEDIOCRE?) you'll never find even the most grudging thing about modern HipHop, or modern Dancehall etc. its a very silly position. the least "wax poetical" thing i've seen in there was Phil Sherbernes oddball Turntabalist piece (big up yerself Phil)
however, griping aside, and complaining about it is so screamingly obvious, perhaps better to just submit grudgingly, there is some cool stuff in there. the depths of obscurity plumbed (often leading up to a tableau of meeting "said underground legend" in a cafe, ok i couldnt resist one more jab) are pretty impressive. and the mingering mike thing was cool wunnit. google "mingering mike"