We take our time these days.
We rarely do ‘premieres’ because we have a rigid professional schedule, and also there are more popular outlets for such promotional activities. What does a premiere even mean in a true information economy? Does mutating a microsecond before the rest of your species confer you with any evolutionary advantages?
We rarely scoop anything because we don’t want to feed the leak beast that has made most album releases non-events (we were lucky enough to exist before the state of affairs was thus). [NB we have been known to fuck this up once in a while, but never for the sake of primacy, at least since we grew up]
We march to the beat of our own drum (which sounds a bit like this, this and this – it is a borrowed drum). This means that we are not the right port of call if you want to be ‘in the loop’. And surely we are not tastemakers.
(GIF via Noirlac).
It doesn’t matter much either way, maybe it’s maturity, not feeling like we have to have heard about every new ‘hot’ band or ‘banging’ jam (NB hot and banging as defined in our own glossary) before everyone else. Maybe it’s an adjustment to minimise cognitive dissonance: we gave up, we fell off the wave, we lost our edge.
Instead, we sit in our porch, like Kelso in Heat, “waiting for stuff to come to us, beamed to us all over the fucking place.” We also look as cool as him, age has many positives.
And what things come to us now, that came to everyone else a long time ago? Things like Mi Ami’s stunning new album Decades, released by 100% Silk. Here we see them render that pilgrimage to Ibiza you feel you should have made when you were young unnecessary or un-longed for, for they act like tectonic shift masters / codeine disco incantators, to bring you the best imagined versions of Ibiza, the Warehouse, an imaginary Roulé club space, and the Loft, void of all toilet hassles and dodgy drug shenanigans.
Time of Love, today’s jam, is mongy dazzle of the highest order, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. We strut down neon halls that remind us of that Brazilian disco level in Max Payne, if only the sound hadn’t been designed, but thrown together on the fly, and all the better for it. We realise that this is the logical conclusion of a ‘Myspace Band influences’ list that began with Daniel Wang and Sun Ra (we were there, mind), and the spirit of love infecting that legendary mixtape they produced for us.
We realise that it’s been a long time, and we are old, but that we still have a dance in us.
Mi Ami are the ones to bring it out.