Other than being the megacosmolopoloozlis, NY has always had a strange sort of appeal for me. It’s gotta be that dream of living in a loft or traipsing round central park or getting robbed pre Giuliani every 5 blocks or whatever absurd cliche is stuffed in my faced from every movie in existence. I suppose it just has that vibe, a life of its own that creates a fertile ground for the imagination to run wild.

How the fuck else do you explain Moondog?

This du was like my first foray into avant garde crap sometime back in ’03 or so. I didn’t like it that much at the time. Fast forward to today and I do, somehow. Maybe it’s because I saw a photo. Or that I learned that he made his own instruments. Or that he played live on the street. It’s like real street music, not that hype shit.


He was called “The Viking Of 6th Avenue”, because he only ever wore clothes he made himself that were supposed to be what the Norse god Thor would wear. He was also often on 6th Avenue in Manhattan, busking with his home made instruments. Listening to his music, its like a mix of Thai, Native American, Javanese, Japanese, American Folk and jazz interludes. Yet, it also feels like you could remove all the ethnic or cultural elements all at once and simply focus on the rhythm and the beat. The structure, if you will.

He’s also blind. Which makes him like the best blind musicman since Beethoven. Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles ain’t got nuthin on him.

Moondog – To A Sea Horse