I`m standing there, watching this guy cue up the next record. Looking at his amazing tattoos. A skull covers the whole of his left hand. I`m thinking that would be an excellent shot. His left hand back-cueing. Maybe I could use it for a flyer. Obviously I don`t get it.

Japan is a place full of contrasts, but the one you immediately notice is how the old and the new co-exist. You get a street of huge westernized hotels (anything westernized is always huge – from the fifty-third floor to the totally unnecessary four-wheel drives that are too wide for the Tokyo streets) and somewhere in the middle is a run down wooden shack – that`s just about survived countless earthquakes – selling home-made tofu and nato. You`ve got the salaryman cliché – never sees his family – but everyone takes the time to visit a shrine or temple (jinja). Takes time out for tradition.

The guy cueing the record is Zecky, from the Discossession crew. A group of extremely skilled DJs and complete music obsessives (that`s one thing I like about Japan – here I`m normal – well, at least in terms of record buying), initially brought together by a love of Italo disco. The group also includes Chee Shimizu and Dr. Nishimura, and I`ve heard stories of amazing record collections – hundreds of original pressings tracked down, acquired, assimilated and then purged as they move on. They`ve done Italo and thoroughly mined Baldelli`s Cosmic tapes. The next step is original production work forthcoming on the Crue-L label. We were very lucky to be invited to a Discosession party (we were the only gaijin there). Very small. Very underground. Thank you Jonny. And the thing that intrigued me about Zecky was the contrasts. The guy has played guitar in various hardcore punk bands for over ten years, yet when he comes to DJ he drops the sweetest mid-tempo, jazz-inflected Italo/Euro disco imaginable. Jonny calls it “Zecky working his sleazy magic”. I guess in some ways it is classic “morning” music. Mike Francis, William Pitt, Tony Esposito. I said “You`re not cosmic mate. You`re Balearic.”

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Blame my old wingman Jez from his “chicago, damn!” post or chalk it up a bit of the old nostalgia for the pre-Katrina NOLA (New Orleans, Louisiana for those who don’t know), but this post swings back to a time when jazz bands, not the National Guard, patrolled the streets of the Big Easy after dark. Closing in on two years since Katrina did her worst, and shit still ain’t the same–may never will be.But old (by American standards) NOLA’s got soul and no hurricane’s gonna take that away.

This joint is from the aforementioned Dirty Dozen Brass Band.  Seen them live twice: once opening for and playing with The Black Crowes, another time by their lonesome in a small club—both times deep in the Quarter.  Times are hard now, but there was a time…..

“…it don’t get much deeper than the tuba, baby…”

laissez les bons temps rouler

ain’t nothin’ but a party

this week I will dispel with the formalities and trick plays and get down to the brass tacks. spent the weekend on a Florida (Panama City) beach sipping belgian beer and mexican tequila—behold the clout of globalization. nothing like getting a little sand between the toes and in the shorts during a game beach volleyball to help align the spine. i know that all sounds a bit hippish, but ya can’t argue with science.

one complaint though: the criminal absence of some decent music in the tiki bars and beach clubs; there was mostly standard north Florida fare; in other words Bob Marley, Jimmy Buffet, hard rock cover bands, and God-awful techno/house. listening to crap music while staring out at the sugar–sand beaches and the gulf of mexico is a bit like purgatory, i.e. spiritual limbo. at any rate, if you ever find yourself in Dante’s first circle or in a tourist-trap game of limbo, request this song from Stax’s house band, 100% guaranteed to help you bend a bit lower or get you a little closer to heaven.

Booker T & the MGs-Soul Limbo

my appreciation of Ennio Morricone’s work goes way back. two of my favorite films, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and The Mission, were scored by signore morricone. recently scored a nice compilation of some of his more obscure work (i.e. hard to find Italian films) put out by a choice odd-ball independent label here in the states. the compilation: Crime and Dissonance , the label: Ipecac Recordings, the song: Giorno Di Notte, the year: 1971, the groove: deep.

have always had a soft spot for psychedelic acid rock (that scratchy reverb gets me every time), but have perhaps an even softer spot for psychedelic, acid funk. throw in Italian starlets and some b-movie cheap thrills for background scenery, then my corner of the world is right as rain.

day of night , indeed.

ciao baby!

Ennio Morricone- Giorne Di Notte

I`ve been listening to a lot of old records lately. Prompted by two things really. The first was a visit to a bar in Kohinata called Café Round. The owner is a genuine music nut - trying to update and keep the old jazz café (or Kissa) tradition alive. Classic LP covers adorn the walls and a quality blue note soundtrack accompanied my red curry, but when I mentioned the Café Del Mar, he rushed to show me a load of obscure Innovative Communications releases. Round is tiny and so packed between tower blocks you`d be lucky to see the sky, let alone a sunset. Nonetheless, the broken but friendly conversation – there was a lot of smiling and bowing going on both sides – ended with me offering to put together a series of compilations together for the bar. I`m gonna call them“Tokyo-To Kissa” (To=city, Kissa=café). As a consequence, I`ve spent the last two months digging through the Café Del Mar archives, with the much needed assistance of the right honorable Moonboots (results can be found at www.jellycast.com, search “one40fivestore”).

Next up I was asked by my friends at www.keyboardmasher.com to put together a “Balearic Top 7” – as part of their celebration of twenty years of Ibizian-influenced dance culture. Balearic? There seems to be a lot of nostalgia knocking about at the moment. I`ve got a feeling there`s going to be a big twenty years on revival. Reckon there`s a book and documentary on the way. The revival will no doubt last five minutes but this could well be my chance to establish a niche.

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i’ve been a mite distracted for the past few weeks, too busy and preoccupied to unleash my rambling monologues on the latitudes and slightly bereft of thrilling new music to send your way, but its the freaking weekend (as i believe r. kelly once put it) and though the weather seems set to take a turn for the wetter here in the megalopolis, this bank holiday has a birthday party per day ratio which is making my liver wince.

so a word about the fantastic picture of chinese new year above.

as part of our limited and new editions, a very good, though very distant friend of the latitudes, oak (yep, that’s really his name, kids) will be posting occasional shots from his stomping ground, beijing. a much missed friend of mine, he’s a supertalented photographer and london/norfolk native who relocated to china and is enjoying the life of a creative ex-pat amongst the hysterical expansion and terrific velocity of China’s most happening city.

wallpaper* magazine recently commissioned him to capture the city’s must-see sites for their terrific city guides series and his beautiful prints are in demand amongst the best arti-stocracy, which is why we’re awful pleased that the great firewall of china’ll grant him leave to send some of his stunning images our way every once in a while. keep watching our skies for regular posts of great beauty.

and for the rest of your weekend, here’s a song which i’m posting for no other reason than that i’ve had it on repeat all day, just the ticket for any kind of weather (or hemisphere) it’s got the catchiest choruses and makes me dance in my swivel chair. oddly becoming one of our most blogged bands, and once more displaying david byrne’s genius (see below for the jezzy endorsement and here for jaksoul’s kudos) its talking heads - and she was.

For the next month or so we are adding to the writing team here at hl.

Bringing some new perspectives (and new selections) from the US and Japan respectively, our new friends Jaz and Rob will be adding their wit and wisdom to our humble pages in this new series of posts aimed at broadening the scope of both the writing and music we offer.

Please joins us in welcoming them to the blog, here is Jaz’s first post;

howdy,

perhaps a bit of introduction and a background check are in order as i am the new kid here in the Horse Latitudes stables. jason’s the name, although many other A.K.A.s apply. born and bread in the southeastern region of america, specifically alabama: the heart of dixie. tramped around japan for five years eating deadly blowfish and looking for zen. late 2006 bounced back to ‘bama to chase the tail of the American dream.

loads of iconic musicians from alabama: hank williams, percy sledge, the commodores, temptations, sun ra, w.c. handy, wilson pickett, the muscle shoals rhythm section—just to name a few. ’nuff said.

generally, i prefer music you wouldn’t want your daughter to be associated with: the sort that causes late-night booty-shaking, street riots, church proclamations, one-night stands and pelvis censorship on the ed sullivan show. in other words, the good stuff.

in honor of may day (whatever that means in your neck of the woods) and the beginning of summer (32 degrees celsius today here in the heart of Dixie), a hot little ditty from one of Birmingham, Alabama’s brightest and weirdest Suns.

Sun Ra-Hot Skillet Mama