London, England. A place of dreams and depravity in equal measure.

The clock has just turned 2008, and i am ready for a new year. All sorts of challenges lie ahead, but you dont need to know about that: i'll keep my ordinary life and all its trimmings to myself. If i bloat this blog like every other e-voice i'll just be another victim of the online soapbox rally.

Instead i'll get right down to brass tax: i'll tell you why i'm here and why i want YOU as a friend.

I've loved music forever. Music is the soundtrack to everything i do, and everything i don't do. Music is the value by which i measure all things. Music is pure existence. But of course, you knew this already. We share this saccharine bullshyt code, right? Right.

Some years ago i had my sizeable CD collection lifted from my home by dirty thieves. Terrible business. Happened on Christmas day too. Robbers know no bounds.

Anyway, the whole experience knocked me around. Felt like losing a child. I watched myself fall into drugs and alcohol and occasional homosexual misadventure. This depravity went one step further when i began collecting mp3's. You must understand, i was upset. It was the last act of a desperate man.

It wasnt long before i'd turned my back on sucking cock for rock and was instead hoarding digital music files. There was no way of managing this collection, and it certainly had no real application except giving a broken man something to do. Then along came iTunes, shortly followed by the iPod, and as we all know the world was never the same again. Soon everyone was mastering vinyl to mp3 and burning CD's to their portable jukeboxes. Even the direst of records were being dragged from the attic and run through iTunes. Anything to bump up that all important tracklist! Dammit, i even uploaded my 148 track harmonica lesson CD just to break the 2,000 mark (i also uploaded a my CD lens cleaner disc music, but that's only because its actually quite good). Before you could say Urusei Yatsura people were bloodsucking each other's libraries and forging new mega stacks of mp3's. The music-buying public went indoors, skipping on the ubiquitous indie record store sabbatical and instead choosing to crank up the laptop whilst smoking crack.

This is how the mp3 took over the world.

This is how i ended up with 45,000 tracks, sat as they are all nice and tidy on a removable storage device. It is a beautiful thing, and one that could easily be destroyed by another swindle swoop or, worse, a house fire.

So naturally i'm nervous, and i've come to realise i need to back it all up. Preferrably on another device far away from my flat. I thought about copying to another hard disk, putting it in a hermetic case and burying it. Maybe a future generation of superhumans (with dildo's for faces) will dig it up after World War IV and have a reet good laugh. Maybe.

Or maybe there's someone out there, on the vast MOG plains, that wouldnt mind curating this collection with me. Its tough work, the hours are bad and there's no money in it, but by Christ its good for the ears and for the soul.

I know i'm jabbering wildly, and that's the point. Because if you've read this far you're probably the person for the job.

So... d'you want to get on?

Come over. Nudge me. Buzz me. Be my frickin' friend or whatever the deal is here.

Show your bones and i guarantee it'll be fun.

Shalom. x

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