Tropicalismo, Prince Nico Mbarga, música juju, Los Zafiros, West Coast represent, Zaragoza, Caetano Veloso, pájaros y naves, Esquivel, bajito NWA, camisetas grandes, tiburones, brazilian nuggets, rap solo, Walt Whitman, África, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, delfínes, beats gordos, camisetas de windsurf, restaurantes mexicanos, dubstep. Lo pone ahí, en los albores.
Sounds Like
EL GUINCHO - PALMITOS PARK (by Gerson Aguerri)
EL GUINCHO - KALISE (by Tobias Gjengedal)
THE FADER MAG MIX
EL GUINCHO MIX (FOR THE FADER MAG).
1- Souley Kanté - Fanga
2- Bainito Muyanda - Kibaji
3- Balla et Ses Balladins - Sara 70 (edit)
4- Los Zafiros - Mirame Fijo
5- Caetano Veloso - Viola Meu Bem
6- Milton Nascimento - Saidas e Bandeiras nº2
7- Marconi Notaro - Desmantelado
8- Alton Ellis - These Eyes
9- Adoniran Barbosa e Demonios da Garoa - Saudosa Maloca
10- Jorge Ben - Barbarella
11- Lord Kitchener - Kitch You're So Sweet
12- Damiao Experiença - A Vida É Sempre Assim (edit)
13- Patience and Prudence - Tonight You Belong To Me
Heaven & Earth
JUAN FROM 20JAZZFUNKGREATS TO OUR BLOG. WE LOVE JUAN.
1- Atlas Sound- A Ghost Story
2- No Age- Things I did When I was Dead
3- Sun City Girls- The Shining Path
4- Manu Dibango- Soul Makossa
5- Dinosaur L- You're Gonna Be Clean on Your Bean
6- Oorutaichi- Misen Gymnastics (extended version)
7- Daniel Wang- Like a Dream (I Can't Stop Dreaming)
8- Group Inerane- Tenerte
9- Foot Village- Bones
10- Mi Ami- African Rhythms
11- Liquid Liquid- Bellhead
12- High Places- Golden (Brenmar Remix)
13- Teeth Mountain- Ghost Science
14- Black Dice- Manoman
15- Studio- West side
16- 20th Century Steel Band- Heaven and Earth
My favorite makeout spot was in the parking lot for a nuclear power plant that was bathed in orange floodlights at midnight, it was the overflow parking area and was just a narrow strip of unpaved dirt in front of an old chain link fence. When I used it, the ground was coated with soot covered and trash infused snow in the dire days of March. March has always been the month of the dirty snow around here, all the filth shines through like sunlight on shit then. The snow by the roadsides is thick with layer upon layer of soot from all the passing cars, the snowbanks are littered with the trash thrown from cars and cigarette butts. I used to joke with D***n that enough sessions in that lot would give us nipples that could shoot putrid green beams of laser light that we could use to cut fresh apples, to make a kinder sort of "Mom's apple pie," a nuclear powered new way for an all American guy. I want to burrow into that urine soaked, soot covered snow and form a hovel and call it home, dreaming dreams of cocaine in Red Bull vans with drag queens on a Sunday night and chocolate covered key lime pie, staving off the hunger pangs of hustler borne starvation between daily stolen chili dogs.
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