Rithma non-stop

Skin turn cream and green
as muscles atrophy
hair don’t keep the sun out
now that its chopped bleached and pink.
Hot Korean sun beat down
no street art in this town
golden memories of first riding with no hands
on a bike through early Topanga summer…
now this is what my summers have become,
high and alone in faraway manifestations
of the cultural consciousness grid…
my mental breeding ground for
metallic organic hope machines,
mandalas of sound*

With the brown in my rear view
hydraulic bones split my skin like “-T-2-”
at the bassline,
i know i’m born and continue to grow.
“go somewhere” says a voice
then another and another
still sometimes i click my heels together
whispering no place like home…..
but tele-transport worked so far only in dreams,
here i must ride till the end of this thing.
People stare and thats fair,
this far from Eugene, only aliens look like me.
bored and continue to grow
Take it away and i’m still stripped of nothing
i want to sleep in the streets where blues came from,
offer this meat & bones body to intergalactic love research
jump in front of the speeding subway car
made of pure music
like everything in this world is-
sinusoidal waves collide create pressure
across the spectrum

touch the colors, breathe in the sea…
every city = life inspection.

Folks, theres something so redeeming about getting lost in faraway places. I think a big part of the joy comes from transforming from routine human reality into more of a ‘dog’ reality, so to speak. Every moment is new, every smell, every sight is something never seen before and perhaps never to be seen again. So! Here i am again a’livin it up in Asia,
of course the best internet connection is here at Starbucks, right out my front door. Disgusting, isnt it? funny little people move quickly and talk fast in a language i will never understand. There are so many realities being lived in this one tiny world it is mind boggling. A bit of advice from a young ignorant man; if you feel stuck, or bored, or angry, just get on that plane and go as far away as you can. Or perhaps better stated by Bob Marley “If youre not livin good….i beg ya…travel wide!”
I dont know what im going to do today. Yesterday i bought a subway ticket and rode my ass all over Seoul, (which could be described as something like a thousand square miles of downtown LA on 100 hits of acid), wandered through the tiny neighborhood streets of an old town, people watched in ‘Itiwan’ which is near a US army base and like a cultural hub…then went and got shitfaced for free at the million dollar ‘New Audi TT expo’. Fucking nice cars, those. i cant believe the amount of money they dump into making a scene out of a car, but i guess they’ll make their money back.
Jetlag is light since we live outside of time, but this morning was a lazy one lying around in my ‘love motel’. If you want to travel cheap but avoid the barracks of the youth hostel, you can always bet on a ‘love motel’. Fancy in-wall lighting, strange porn channels, and all the amenities of a 300 dollar “intercontinental” room, with a twinge of “Trailer Park” thrown in there. hmmmmmm…… more soon.

in the words of the famous Texas Bob, ,
“the stairway to heaven is paved with the lost luggage of stoned musicians.
total hyper-sensitivity…withdrawal should be called forthdrawal. beware of kimchi. ”

I stayed up all night to pack and get my act together, pounded the illustrious “ultimate meal” which is basically a hippy protien drink, and headed with my comrade Aaron and his “no title ladyfriend” Andrea to the airport. Full size Ford F350 pedal to the metal and those trucks ride rough, and man was that extra little bit of ultimate meal a mistake, for by the time i got halfway through the check in line at the airport i had to run to the bathroom and throw it all up. Hazel eyes, bright purple hair, yellow and green throwup, what a colorful morning its been already on this ride, and im not even an hour in. With barf breath i approached the counter, and saw to my delight that the check in lady was straight out of the simpsons, she looked like mole man all short and smiley with round glasses. I missed my plane just like every time, its no big deal. I would have liked to enjoy my 1 day 1 night layover in Honolulu, but its all part of the story. I had a nice conversation with a transport dispatcher guy, a big old black guy named Ron who gave up drinking 3 years ago, and had a long story of too muc partying in his youth. Now he just works his job and tries to cheer people up when he can. He directed me over to the international terminal for a good time, to have a drink and look at all kinds of people. Now im sittin in the Tom Bradley international terminal of my home town, and the soft murmur of every different language washes over me and makes me feel at home again on the faraway road.
White people are retarded. When i was standing talking with Ron, a short white woman approached with a pizza box and her hand, clearly on her way somewhere. “Oh! Did you bring that for me???” he said… and she looked even more intensly in the direction she was walking, acted as though old Ron & I didnt exist at all!!! The fucking Gall!!! I know its such a small case to even give thought, but for christ sakes people better wise up and treat each other right, lest they one day realize this life is all we got.

in ten minutes, the calendar will roll over and it will be June 3, 2007. A second ago i was in middle school, and on my way to class i read “Rave Madness!” on the back of some kid’s t-shirt. Tomorrow at 8AM i will be boarding a plane to Korea. Actually the flight was booked on reward miles, so i have two (2) night-long layovers; one in Honolulu, one in Tokyo, and then i land in Korea. Holy shit! Little did i know my party days in the rave scene would evolve into a fully fledged party career. As often as this happens, im still completely floored. Just around the corner are plenty of surprises in faraway land. Holy Shit. Here we go….!

Something Prominent – so real….
unfortunately, an error occoured and your computer will be shut off, *and* all information will be lost. bang. bummer. just like that.
She threw her laptop out the window on the tenth floor of some random Seattle Hilton & watched it crash to pieces on the concrete with such force that the random balled headed civilian fleed the scene.
Imagine that, crash, boom, its all over. All your spreadsheets, all your stupid schedule planners, phone numbers, tax records,
crystal clear LCD flatscreen, all of it in electronic shards strewn across Water street downtown. The harddrive itself, pressurized by the unthinkable weight of a bus tire, shot spinning across the street & bounced hapilly into the gutter.
“Fuck That” she said “Just a little more free now.”
All of that shit couldnt be replaced, but in a dark safe corner of the room rested the hefty weight of her record bag – the essence & gasoline of all DJ trips.
A mutter : “thank god for vinyl, she keeps me goin’” and thank god for valium, the de – edger of all situations.
But even without pills the computer crash was a freeing incident, for every material thing lost provides an inch more freedom – hell, when your house burns down or blows up, your an instant monk, a spiritual traveller free to wander the world & find your new place in life. and in the way way end (lets not go there..) when you lose your body, thats when you really get to fly, above all the hills & problems & doubts, running on pure human-spirit inertia like rocket fuel, rocketing so damn far into space until you rocket right down into a single cell, inside a warm fuzzy dark womb (hopefully a nice one) and wait, and wait, and wait, for the precious impending daylight.
She looked away from the black Techniques bag full of all that bangin tech-house & looked back out the window – there were two little kids a black girl & white boy, hollering joy & picking up defunct computer parts. How exciting – one man gathers what another man spills…who said that- Grateful Dead, right?!
Before we get into that, your probably wondering who this twacked out girl is & why you’re reading about her & what the fuck story is this anywayz???
Well here we go…….

oh my it has been a long time. how is everyone? do people read this thing? summertime is blooming. i do landscaping around the house.
work in the studio till 5 AM and wake up at noon. drive around LA in a delivery van 4 hours a day for my part time job. say that reminds me, THE ALBUM IS DONE. not ‘almost done’ or ‘pretty much done’, but all the way done done. holy shit. i been beating myself up over that thing for more than 3 years now. 3 years of telling my friends i cant hang out, 3 yerars of doing, re-doing, un-doing, wrapped up forever and a day in that monster of a project. once an unclimbable mountain, i climb down the last hill and look back in the distance at all the progress, frustration, technicalities, and long long nights in the studio that never seemed to end. part of me didnt want them to. but it got to a point when i realized i wouldnt be able to start anything else until it was done, till i let my baby go, and so i had to. If i get a minute here ill splice together a “coming soon” mix for sneak preview. so that Om will yell at me. for now, ill take a deep breath, sigh, have a 30 second break, and jump headlong back into the production of the live show we’ll do to promote the release, which is a new unsurmountable task, endless and confusing. LONG LIVE THE CRAFT.

first off, catch a glimpse of my oily mullet lifting weights in this WMC promo video by RTHM.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrtthLEPZPk

these guys are foking geniuses, combining their appropriate name “Real Time Hand Motion” (they are a fast handed Ableton outfit) with a gag and making their own Hand Lotion to give away at gigs. WTF!!! more on these crazies here:
http://www.realtimehandmotion.com/

anyways, tho staying home during miami does suck major ballz, its for the greater cause of saving a bit of money (whatevs) and….(the following is an excerpt from real some time ramblings over the past few days:
———————-
THE BAND!!!! i dont even know whats going on at this point. i found this random kid at a random gig. he was playing keys like a magician. i asked him what he was doing in July and if he felt like getting together for a jam or a tour, and where most people scoff and say “oh…i got my own thing going on…” or “im already so busy, but ill take 5K a week…” ….well, he responded with enthusiasm. at this point im totally blown away, we got together once and jammed, Monica was laying down 8 part vocal loops like it was nothing, im plucking away on Wah Wah guitar, and Mr Genius over there is running shit in Ableton and monosynth solos. Youre really going to have to be there to dig it.
———————-
its a greater cause. if the current clues have anything to do with the future, there are going to be some big steps ahead…

quiet and rainy cool, perhaps my favorite weather in topanga because times like this are so rare. Its 5 AM and my schedule is backwards, completely. I dont know if it was a final push of that flu that ran me over like a water truck (a full one), or some kind of latent jet lag from all the world travelling i was doing. nights are days are nights and i guess its not a problem except for the part where my parents think im crazy and i still live on their land. Its okay, the stardom will make them proud and they’ll forget all about the things they worried about.
A low hanging blanket of seafoam covers the entire southland, dripping rain, dripping rain, thank god. I thought for sure we were in for a drought, which, come summertime, can effect food prices nationwide. But rest assured, the soft blanket of clouds is heavy with water, and far off to my right, past the safe, dark topanga hills, reflecting Los Angeles’s deep, orange, 5 gigawatt glow off to my right. 5 gigawatts we blow, every night, just to leave on the lights. I hope everyone can get bundle up inside that cozy illusion of safety, safe enough to sleep, safe enough to not have to think about where our kids are gonna get their electricity to make beats.
Anyways back to the beats. Today is a big day, ladies and gentleman, i think we found “our guy”, the missing link to the live show. After my months of brooding, pacing around the world, wondering, what is going to make this thing click, searching searching, somebody in management up above put in the queue for Alex Kalejs to enter the scene, hes like fire on the keys and i bow my head in appreciation to the fact that he has an intamite understanding of Ableton live, reaktor, dance music and all the goodies. Nica Brooke, Alex Kalejs, and Rithma, on Board for the Om summer tour in July. Now its on me, to take apart all my tracks and format then for live, then practice guitar & voice the rest of the time. Theres nothin worse like showin up actin like hot shit and finding out you lost your chops. Actually scratch that. Losing your chops sucks, but theres nothing worse than someone who acts like they’re hot shit. Theres no acting allowed in this movie.

I need to travel alone again … spin off into all the colors & sounds of a place so far away and unreal it immortalizes the soul into sun baked stone sculpture. The adventure shall forge ahead. Brazil is the golden oyster, the prize, the soft dark vanilla cram at the center of the universe, and they know it. They are happy and they arent going anywhere. But something in my heart begs that i move on, on and away from these lotus flowers that fart benzodiazapams and aphrodeziacs and leave all these beautiful people so sexy bronze and relaxed its no wonder everyone just wants to fuck each other all the time and never ask questions.
Here i sit at one of these major crossroads in life … 2 big beautiful pathways fan out in front of me like Tolkien magic – both lead to the end of next week, one in the direction of home, the other shrouded in mystery and southern hemisphere light ; Buenos Aires, Argentina. A big half of me really wants to say fuck it and go…go chase the dream…go chase those beautiful sweedish aussie hippie girls that felt like the first real friends ive had in a million years….go live a full and twisted life, go make some new friends. The other big half of me needs to go back to work, creation and solution and resolve, and whittiling down that enourmous debt i have incurred.
So theres that whole debt thing, the thing that says ‘once thats clear, youre free to roam the world’… but then maybe it’ll always feel like that, and i should just overcome all that shit thats in my head to begin with. But its a ‘win-win’ whichever which way i go, for if i go to Argentina i will have momentarily won the war with unkle sam, i wil be broke & free, and if i go home, well hell, all ive got to do is dig ditches and make music, and plan for the next souljive hiatius.
I just gotta remember out here on the wind, there are so many people in Le’America, stressed out in their cubes; Vivendi & Coke & Disney, people who never get the notion of all the miles of dark skin and music and laughter, never take the long exciting walk across the massive cultural bridge, never shower in the waterfall or watch the world explode into pointed polygons of light on LSD, or breathe in the hot rainforest air under the call of the cicada. My heart goes out to them, employees of the giant destroyer, and the only ones who are truely missing out.

please listen to the first rithma podcast
i almost forgot!!!
http://www.rithma.org/podcast/RithmaCast%202006-01-02B.mp3