DJ SET RECORDED LIVE @ SECRET GARDEN PARTY, SOMETIME IN EARLY 2000s
The smouldering remains of all the galleries and museums in the world, piled high with the charred bodies of all those who have ever made a stand against galleries and museums; in the name of the masses, against the elite. Against what some have called sweetness and light.
We like: beauty and image, aesthetics and selflessness, Chantelle and all she embodies: our simple and subtle idol worship, found rooted on spoilt land, found empty and suffering (we made her and in her we see ourselves). We are not here to mess around or waste time. There is half an hour left until the club shuts and we are still coming up. It is both beautiful and stunted, mired in its own self doubt and acceptance, like a dying bride stuttering her rites or a child surreptitiously taking his father's acid.
Pop music is the work of a genuine artist. Dancing in the ruins of your abandoned city- a foundation for the next. We will not live here but we will build it and built it, all of our labours in place.
We will party and dance and make love in these towers of sin and then leave it to the woodland creatures. It is not, nor was it ever, nor will it ever be, ours.
Let's sell badges and become heroes. Media manipulation and aesthetics / substance[s] and content. Now, they play our ringtones in galleries and French scholars discuss us at the academy.