Me Myself&I Music


PFunkzilla. Raise your head on the beat.

(produced, composed and recorded by yours truly)

Happy New Year!

Me Myself&I Music


Q Lazzarus passed away.

Everyone of course thinks of The Silence of the Lambs when hearing the classic song Goodbye Horses but personally, I always think of Marc Johnson ripping streets.

It fits so well. It fits skateboarding’s rhythm, pain, solitude and doing you. A masterpiece.


Diffrt Grl

Composed and produced during the 2016s, aka 2015-2019. Not representative of the current mood, but I wanted to ship it because that’s how it is. Bang. NEXT


Bernard Wright

He is the kind of musician and American man that has been around me in the most craziest ways.

First, his 1985 megahit “Who Do You Love” that was on the radio worldwide from when it came out to the mid 90s. Just a beautiful, simple, unique pop song.

Then it’s 1995, Skee-Lo’s I Wish is super popular, samples Bernard’s Spinnin’ song. The music video is happening on the very playground where I have been playing basketball for eight years now.

I discovered the sample on my own in the 2000s by learning Marcus Miller’s basslines and being like “HOLUUUP”.

At that time I also read a lot about those super funky cats playing badass grooves in Jamaica, Queens. Bernard Wright, Don Blackman, Marcus Miller, Tom Browne, Lenny White, Toni Smith… Not only those mfs were monster musicians, but they created those samples used everywhere in 90s hip-hop.

The sad part is that they are leaving this planet. Toni, Don and now Bernard.

Bernard toured with my love Meshell Ndgeocello. He was the musical director for Roberta Flack. A prodigy, probably a tormented life –he started touring at 13 but probably a good soul.

58 is so young for a musician. You can still learn new chords in your seventies. Rest in Power, brother.



This song was rotating often last year when I was patiently waiting for my vaccine turn.

I loved Vanjess’s album. Nine tracks that just flow by when you’re busy at home.

Me Myself&I Music

(also watched)

I watched a bit of the first episode of The Beatles: Get Back, until Paul actually creates the song Get Back.

It happens in the morning and it’s so awesome to see his mind work around his bassline, repeating the line, finding a quick melody on top, then words. He knows he has something and wants it, chipping away.

I’m not a Beatles fan but I imagine this must feel so great to see the creative process when you are one.

It makes me want to see the same quality footage of recording of albums or hot R&B #1 songs from the Isley Brothers, Parliament, Erykah Badu, Dilla or Midnight Star. Man, I wish I could see that stuff. There’s probably some footage here and there but nothing like the Beatles have.

Me Myself&I Music

Meaningless numbers


Adriano Ferreira da Silva Filho, a 19-year-old fan from Ilhabela, a beach town in the state of São Paulo, told Rest of World that he wanted to boost “Envolver”’s popularity as a means of paying back an artist who was influential in his life. So, Filho created a series of different playlists to play the song over 2,000 times a day using his laptop and two cellphones to be able to have them all playing simultaneously from different usernames.

“If you only play the track on repeat, Spotify doesn’t count it as a stream,” Filho explained. “They think it’s a bot. So, you have to create a playlist with different tracks and alternate them with the one you want to boost.”

All numbers on platforms are fake or fake-ish. Number of followers, likes, plays, views? All fake. Database 0s and 1s that can be edited however one is pleased. All those numbers are gamed.

I’ve seen someone with half a million followers on Twitter get 3 RTs in four hours. For something about her business. That makes no sense.

Those numbers have zero value, are constantly manipulated and far too many people OBSESS about them.

You’re obsessing about the void, a black box designed for retention, dear. No status here. Focus.

Me Myself&I Music

Jungle Vibes

Some 177bpm bass for your senses.

Me Myself&I Music

Blurry now

“This was the dawn of a new digital-era way of experiencing time, something we’ve since become totally familiar with. And every gain in consumer-empowering convenience has come at the cost of disempowering the power of art to dominate our attention, to induce a state of aesthetic surrender. Which means that our gain is also our loss. It is also becoming very clear that the brittle temporality of networked life is not good for our psychological well-being; it makes us restless, erodes our ability to focus and be in the moment. We are always interrupting ourselves, disrupting the flow of experience.”

Simon Reynolds in Retromania.

Bro. It really explains well how ten years later we are now slugging through mountains of art and entertainment, how we are basically intellectual zombies. My good friend R was telling me last week how he downloaded a new album and listened to it without listening to it. How he didn’t understand what had changed, why he didn’t enjoy music as much as before (he’s a big music fan).

We have too much. We don’t make any choices. We are drowning.

And it feels like there is no end. It’s one of the most bizarre thing about the West today.

Me Myself&I Music


“It’s not that nothing happened in the music of the 2000s. In many ways, there was a manic bustle of micro-trends, subgenres and recombinant styles. But by far the most momentous transformations related to our modes of consumption and distribution, and these have encouraged the escalation of retromania. We’ve become victims of our ever-increasing capacity to store, organize, instantly access, and share vast amounts of cultural data. Not only has there never before been a society so obsessed with the cultural artifacts of its immediate past, but there has never before been a society that is able to access the immediate past so easily and so copiously.”

Reading Retromania by Simon Reynolds.

Lots to ponder here. Implications about the now, the future, how it relates to the world we’re in. It’s fascinating.

This book was written ten years ago and Bruno Mars (and so many others, including myself) is still doing 70s/80s stuff. I keep thinking that in terms of core values, those two decades are peak musicianship: from influences to straight samples, the 1970s and 1980s boast the biggest, tastiest meal of all.

We’re still eating at that table. And that’s fine. Or is it?