let me take you dancing BRYAN ADAMS

original  

12" mix

an opportunity free of nostalgia unless you're a vancouver cognoscenti or happened to hang out quite a bit on georgia street at night in the late 70's.  what may sound like a slight variation in tape speed is in fact a slight variation in tape speed, or ~48 cents.  with the assistance of the song's co-writer jim vallance's website and an exhausted pitch bender, i was able to pitch down the 12" remix (done by john luongo) into an approximate original.  luongo said he needed the tune a bit faster, so he sped the track up by almost a half-step, which in the just-intoned scales of western music is either 112 or 71 cents.  in the case of let me take you, it sounds like, mainly at the chorus (featuring three women back-up singers), that luongo has, to great ends, supplanted the 18 year old adams with the younger, leaner freshman adams that like a 17 year locust emerges and disseminates aural jury duty and serotonin upon the unwitting.  this is good, though because not only did luongo add some sensational hand-claps for the old neurotransmitters, he improved the high frequency dB output by increasing his tape speed to ~15.5 ips.  a quick A:B'ing of these two will confer high bias protection against this season's m2aug1strain.



supplemental materials:

interested in fitting into the above-pictured jeans?  it's the bryan adams diet, or how bryan adams wages beneficence on vacillating hydrocloric events:

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to be certain, tripe.  if we assume like cures like, tripe.  there is no reason to be dyspeptic in this day and age.  tripe accommodates nearly every ayurvedic disposition, that is assuming pitta is the new vata.

pop d'epoque MICHEL COLOMBIER

a far cry from the deneuvue in repulsion (insert italian loanword) and a far cry from the man called fusion-sama in japan.  whatever the case, add a little serge gainsbourg -the jacques cousteau of smoking gauloises and puffy eye balls- and como sa va: que tes reves soient doux- manon 70 (no relation to boccaccio 70, though).  what little i can say for sure about michel colmbier's instrumentals in this film is that they are a lot like what i have, for many years, imagined it would be like to scuba dive with wealthy hermaphrodites in red knit caps.  regardless of my biotic escapades covered by a sentient per diem, this movie plays like one long scopitone video where rare animals of the sea are transfixed by that organ tone.  i want to go to there.  did the engineer leave the master tape in the back window of his citroen as he fled the algerian desert while serge gently blew smoke on the machines playheads?  how does that tone happen!?