Green X

Who was that guy?

Yes, y’all.

So I’ve been spending a lot of time with the Vertex album lately (the namesake of this blog-thing, or whatever we call it). I finally got around to the long-overdue process of digitizing the original/master 4-track tapes and then started cleaning things up and preparing an instrumental mix, which I will be sharing with you soon.

The work has been like performing an autopsy. I’ve had to pull the whole thing apart and dig down to where the disease is. It’s been weird. No. Weird isn’t the word. It’s been an emotional journey, to borrow a phrase. I’ve told the story a few times before: I was broke and living in a squalid apartment and making do with very little. I woke up feeling inspired one morning and worked for two days straight with no sleep or food. I wasn’t just focused. I went into a flow state or some kind of trance. And I didn’t have any disks for the sampler to save any of my beats. After I laid each one down, I cleared the memory and started again.

Anyway, listening to the album in such an intimate way has transported me back to that time - to that apartment. Who was that guy living there? In that moment, I thought it was the worst and lowest point of my life. Little did I know how much worse it could get - even as my dreams came true. It’s a shame I wasn’t able to see that it was actually the best time of my life. As I’ve been making music in a frenzy over the last four years or so, I’ve been trying to find a way back to that apartment - to feel its cold drafts and to smell the cat piss again.

In those days, I lived on a “recipe” I learned from my first girlfriend Francine’s grandmother. I would buy a bag of the cheapest macaroni I could find and a can or two of vegetable soup. The works cost a few bucks. I’d boil the whole bag of macaroni, toss in the soup, stir and voila! A batch would keep me going for three days.

One thing that really bugs me out about Vertex is the beats. Listening to them closely and stripped of vocals and turntables, I realize that I don’t know where almost any of the samples come from. How can I not know? I’ve been so devoted to building my knowledge of records and breaks in the years since then and I’m left feeling like I knew more 30 years ago than I do now.

God almighty, 30 years…

I remember making the conscious choice to mostly sample Canadian records - just as challenge, I guess. It wasn’t a pride thing. And I know that they were almost all el cheapo, dollar-bin records. I probably still have all of the raw material somewhere but I don’t know if I have the hours left in my life to listen through all that chud to re-locate the gold.

Crazy thing is, I wanted better records. My main spot for digging had the good stuff but I couldn’t afford it. And for as much as I love/d the SP-1200, I moaned over having only 8 seconds of sample time. If I had my way back then, I would have made a very different record. What a shame that would have been! I marvel now over the clever ways I made the most of my eight seconds. And my ability to find a dope loop hidden within the grooves of some of the worst records ever made was monk-like. Those beats are nice!

Having all the guts of Vertex laid out on a nice grid in Ableton, it feels very tempting to pull out the chainsaw. But I won’t let myself do it. I still have an old notebook with the mixing notes for the album. I’m letting that be my only guide. I’m honoring the guy in the apartment eating his vegetable soup macaroni.

It’s a good thing I digitized the tapes when I did. They show signs of age. There’s some degradation (I guess that happens over the course of 30 years). So I had to do some clever fixes so you don’t hear the parts that corroded. You won’t even notice. It was scary to hear those garbled parts though. Sad to think that in another few decades, those tapes will probably turn to dust.

Vertex has followed me around my whole life. I was confused by the fuss at times. But I think I get it now.