bobbing for eggs

k was late. he asked me to meet him at the hotel matinez at 10 for breakfast and it’s already 20 past.

it was a typical february morning in cannes: the way the light shimmied off the mediterranean hinted at spring, but the occasional gust that swept down the côte d'azur hills still have enough bite to recall winter. it was my second trip to cannes for midem, the music industry’s biggest trade show, and daphne was with me. not withstanding my pledge to chill and make the trip more pleasure than business, i had this one big deal and found myself increasingly annoyed by the wait.

cannes of course is best known for its film festival. the seaside town had seen its share of divas and jetsetters, frequently at the all-night industry parties thrown in the fancy hotels that dot la croisette. on a few occasions, however, we abandoned the beach and the sound systems to wonder neighborhoods further up the hills. once, we were rewarded with a hole-in-the wall that served a tight little steak and côte du rhône combo.

the first time i was at midem i was working for an italian dance music label/distributor. it was a cliché wrapped in decadence – italo-disco on the french riviera – and it was a complete blur. as soon as i arrived, i was thrown together with three a&r guys and ran back-to-back ½ hr meetings from 10 ‘til 6, listening to pitches from indie labels, production companies, and other distributors. it was grueling work, cycling through 2 or 3 rapid 10-second snippets, an earnest spiel, and if heads got bobbing, another 20 seconds and some initial posturing and haggling about possible terms. it was the fastlane and it was intoxicating. by the end of that frenzied week, i could tell within the first 10 seconds if a deal was likely.

it may seem arrogant, even arbitrary, to seal the commercial fate of a piece of music in 10 seconds. but it was based on a simple, efficient logic: since we’re dealing with club music, the beat is the hook. if a track can’t move you in 10 seconds, it’s worthless. sure, we all know great dance music that builds and evolves, but the odds of finding that in a hyperventilating speculative environment like midem is less than nil. instant gratification for me, please.

what midem lacked in depth, it made up in breadth. there was a rep or a booth for every kind of music imaginable, converging from around the globe, all vying for attention and trying to rise above the noise level. it was a vast, frenzied mating dance with millions of songs all striving to score that deal in the palais des festivals.

the thing about music at midem is that i will never hear most them again after i leave cannes. out of the millions of demos and samples that changed hands, only a small fraction will have legs beyond the showroom. being the music ho that i am, a lesser reason would have been enough to propel me on a demo-grabbing mission to personally rescue as much music as possible from oblivion. i know most of them will be shit, but there is always that off chance of finding something truly new and delicious.

k finally arrived. within a few minutes he confirmed what his appearance had already announced, that he’s been up all night tripping his balls off. looking like a doe-eyed puppy with big, dilated pupils, he wolfed down his breakfast. i pitched while he ate but i found myself getting increasingly distracted by the way he played with his poached eggs. like a kid, or a man who’s been tripping his balls off, he was clearly more interested in exploring the visual possibilities of a viscous pool of bright-yellow yolk than eating it. i groaned to myself and tried not to roll my eyes.

just as i thought i completely lost him to the eggs, he looked up and said, “ok, i’ll send you some paperwork next week.” it was a surprising and rather anti-climactic end to a big build-up, at least in my mind. not quite sure what to do, i managed an anemic thank you and left as he started mixing bread crumbs into the yolk. for a long time afterwards, i wondered if he had made up his mind about the deal before the eggs showed up.

each of these songs is a message-in-a-bottle washed up on the beaches of cannes. some from well-known voices, like argentinean tango legend astor piazzolla y su quinteto tango nuevo’s “decarisimo” found on a german compilation, “united rhythms of messidor” (messidor, 1994). others, like sahara hotnights, an all-girl rock band with a muscular sound similar to the hives, their better known compatriots, was a mere blip on the official swedish midem sampler until i rediscovered them years later on the coney island boardwalk at a village voice music festival. in similar world expo fashion, i got a taste of nelories’ off-beat “starboogie” on the “access nippon” compilation, though they’ve already been buzzing for a few years as import on cmj. still others landed in my hands by convenience. i met people from outland records, a house/techno specialty shop in amsterdam because they’ve charted my elements of life release. while i’m not a fan of the mechanical, uptempo shit they do in general, i found eric nouhan’s production on “devaradja” (outland spiritual sampler, 1994) to be a crisp nod to detroit’s underground resistance crew.

Posted by cellpharmer at November 7, 2005 06:44 PM