the chicken or the egg…

i’m always amazed by how folks can be so definitive about stuff. about anything. about EVERYTHING. some people seem to be able to speak authoritatively on pretty much any subject and seem to know all there is about the subject in hand and are beautifully dismissive of any argument to the contrary.

which really, really amazes me.

i used to be an arrogant fool when i was younger, completely talking out of my arse about stuff i had absolutely no idea about (i’d like to think like most young people). however, fortunately, i hung around with folks who would pull me up on most of the things i’d be bullsh¡tting on about and point out glaring inconsistencies, complete fabrications and dearth of detail in my twitterings and so i gradually learned that i knew pretty much nothing about anything and that, for my sake, and the sake of my dwindling group of mates, i’d better shut up and allow Authoritative Figures to do the lecturing/pontificating/speechifying.

i’m still an arrogant fool. but i’m a different kind of arrogant fool nowadays.

we all know about fundamentalists – yeah, yeah, blah-di-blah – and how the religious kind of any persuasion come across as complete dicks, being honest, each one having the absolute and unshakable divine knowledge that they are completely, unassailably, ultimately right and righteous in their beliefs and no amount of discussion, reason, logic or proof will ever shake that. which i suppose is very admirable.

but we all know fundamentalists in our own little non-religious worlds too; the politically active; the determinedly apathetic; the die-hard party animal; the reformed smoker/drinker/couch-potato. each a law unto themselves, fully committed to a belief system that is bigger than they, yet completely willing to impose their will an way upon the hapless, the meek or the merely nearby. which gets a bit tedious at times.

but none can be more hardcore, more RIGHTEOUS!!!, more completely deserving of contempt than the uber-snob music fundamentalist.

of which i am a card-carrying, subscription buying, flag waving, burn-the-infidel fanatic.

if belief is the death of intelligence, then musos must make amoeba feel like gods.

take for example this fascinating discovery yesterday from Boomkat, which has unearthed an album of unbelievably funky acid house music, Ten Ragas to a Disco Beat by Charanjit Singh, from India. from 1983.

Cover of Synthesizing: 10 Ragas To A Disco Beat

Cover of Synthesizing: 10 Ragas To A Disco Beat

acid house.

from India.

1983…

nearly four years before the well-known and massively influential Acid Tracks by Phuture was released. like, aaaaaages before anyone else thought of incorporating a Roland 303 into a track and making it a feature.

some guy posted the only reference i can find to it way back in 2002 and graciously offered a link to a track to download (yay! boo! whatever!). have a listen. it’s bloody brilliant. tangerine dream meets carl craig.

acid house was born in India. not Detroit. like everyone says. like what history states. dammit to hell, Wikipedia has it down as fact! FACT!!!

so, my long-winded rambling post is essentially this: no-one knows nothing. no-one’s done anything first. nothing is new. nothing is ever as is. everything is in flux. my worldview is crumbling. i haven’t a clue what i’m talking about…

thanks to Papy Potage for the following link to a video for one of the tracks…

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