Late night excursions at SPUTNIK (www.barsputnik.com). The color of choice is green. The sounds are deep crate dug fuzzy gems, psyche & heavy beat prog joints. rare and lovely, just for you.

Moment of the session: A young, drunken lass approaches the booth. Stumbles, then takes her heels off. She barely misses the turntable and nearly spills her drink that some bonehead BC dude bought her on my rare Can LP. In a unmistakable Neuvo-Euro trash accent (meaning if the dollar wasn’t so weak she’d never be here) she says, “Hi darling. (Burp). Excuse me, wow, great shit man…me and my girls [i looked, there were none] would die to hear some Jim Brown, that funky fucker, ya know?” Pathetic. No way will I now play my fav JB tune for some skank,

I could’ve played Boris all night until she left, but I downed the rest of my Booker’s, got snobby and played what I wanted to hear. Enjoy.

sorry, they be deep in my crates. if ya gotsta know — hit me at sumj@mac.com

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