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| Saturday, July 01, 2006 |
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J. Scott G.: Channel Surfing
By Image Mag Staff @ 11:30 AM :: 156 Views ::
0 Comments :: Music: Artist Spotlight
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wordplay by orange peel moses
image by www.JudyDomingue.com
“Progressive,” like “Alternative,” used to be a genre label that actually meant something besides predictable. Those were the good old days. Those days are ancient history. These days are not those days anymore. Progressive dance music hasn’t lived up to its genre handle’s actual dictionary definition in a pretty long spell. Progressive producers have gotten a bit lazy in the envelope-pushing department. It appears many are apparently content to recline in their cushy swivel chairs, sequencing software practically on autopilot, and rely on tried and true, dance floor-tested conventions and formulas. News flash: a buildup, a breakdown and a few arpeggios do not constitute a memorable melody or dance floor packing track. J. Scott G., arguably the better half of progressive super heroes Deepsky, is channel surfing for alternatives.
Scott’s lungs first lucked upon the phenomenon of oxygen in a podunk town-- currently under the Governator’s jurisdiction--called Truckey. In the middle of a blizzard, nonetheless. At some point or another, Scott and his flesh and blood sisters were gently uprooted by their semi-well meaning mother and dragged by their earlobes to Albuquerque, New Mexico. For a glimpse into his home life as a rug rat, simply switch on the boob tube for a few and tune into a Jerry Springer episode or two. (Seriously, folks.) One of the biggest perks to the domestic dysfunction was Scott’s aforementioned mom, a piano drill sergeant who perpetually threatened to phone Barry Manilow if his tunes were butchered. Scare tactics are most certainly not fit to base an entire government’s platform on, but they evidently served their purpose in young Scott’s ebony and ivory realm. Three cheers for Scott’s mom, without whom none of this would be possible. Don’t worry Falco, we haven’t forgotten about your “Rock Me Amadeus” role...have a cookie for your efforts.
Nearly a decade and a half ago, Scott and his Deepsky partner-in-illegal-party-crimes, Jason Blum, threw an unpermitted rave party (kinda like a Tupperware party, but more touchy-feely and with glow-in-the-dark utensils) in a warehouse on the outskirts of Albuquerque. They certainly weren’t the very first to do so (those that came before them were a tad too “clicky” to book even talented newbies, though), but they were most likely one of the first local acts to perform semi-live. Nearly a decade and a half later, they have re-rubbed everyone from “Old Blue Eyes” Sinatra to “Old Fishnet Thighs” Madonna, and rocked many of Mother Nature’s farthest-flung crevices, including Colorado’s own Red Rocks and a biological park in Old Mexico City where the stage sat smack dab in the middle of a lake surrounded by around 8,000 undulating individuals--and one fan almost fainted when Jason gave her a small peck...on the cheek. Having been barely edged out for both a Grammy nod and a Dancestar award does not begin to diminish that kind of massive success in the slightest. Nothing does.
Eventually, even though the act of mixing was of paramount importance all along, the time came to mix it up a little. After all, the most tenacious survivors in the music biz are the chameleons–Bowie, Madge, Beck, etc. Summer Channel, the most virgin musical venture under Scott’s wing, aims to accomplish exactly that. Stagnation, no matter how many units it has moved in the past, is to be avoided like the plague at all costs. Stutter edits, as Aphex Twin’s Richard James has thoroughly demonstrated, can be a lot of fun to eardrum, but stutter edits are not the end-all be-all. Quality songwriting will never ever be completely overshadowed by technological tricks. Period. End of story. (Well, not quite just yet:) Quality songwriting is the primary focus of Scott’s Summer Channel side project. To that end, he has enlisted assistance from a number of essential contributors including axe-tapper Cameron Morgan, non-Marley employed wailer Patrick Aurelio, and the dream pipes of Kathy Fisher and Rebecca Coseboom.
The season of permanent distraction is upon us: surf’s up.
July 29th Switch @ Shelter
www.SummerChannel.com
www.Deepsky.net |
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