Trans-Eara Express

Movies have been made of my memories. Not mine alone, but sometimes they feel that heavy, that concrete. Which is why I get gut satisfaction seeing them cut up, tastily reassembled. And why I'm enjoying the totally unexpected (and well-edited) return of Afrika Bambaataa on his new nonretro Gary Glitter/Evel Knievel/Steve "Tapehead" Reich-mixing DJ disc. Once again, I believe in the Future. Or at least that things can really change, even if/as they settle down again—each stage is a setup for the next. But so what, 'cause he's got me listening to each vivid detail (sound-blocs themselves made up of restless-textured characteristics sporting the latest characters . . . Call these "voices," those "instruments," break 'em down even more and you won't be quite wrong, or right—together they complete the beat). I know they're gonna leave me, but can't complain, cos I'm in the flow, in the know, in the (consumer foodchain) groove.

Each sound (incl. silence) is an actor, directed by Bam (who nowadays sweeps through city-sonic soul spaces with a non-"Hell Below"-charred broom—aw, heck). Each sound-actor gets its turn, its chance to change, and maybe even dazzle, on its stage of evolution. Which = quitting while you're ahead, before you and your listeners are tired. Hey, Bamvolution's not "progress," Frosty, but don't sweat it. Right (about) now, the time-lapse Electro Funk Soul Brother will drop back into the track (say, "2 Kool 4 Skool": in die Uberzone, born-again dropouts graduate, magna cum mad-professin' neoclass), and shake a mellow snowstorm in your Steady State "Big-Bang" ying-yang.