Subtitles

We wanted to make a promo text for this release, but then this message by Alphabets Heaven came thru:

Subtitles is my love letter to salsa. A torn, scribbled, badly translated love letter to an old address that the resident left years ago. But fuck it, it's still a love letter.

Every since I heard Larry Harlow's La Cartera about 12 years ago I've been trying to find out as much as I could about salsa. So much of it runs counter to everything I know about dance music, and yet it so clearly bangs. So on and off for the last 10 years I've been buying salsa, trying to work out how many imprints of Fania there were, trying to get my head round the horn arrangements, and generally having a great time with basically no contact with anyone who was actually a part of the culture in anyway. My Spanish is pretty bad as well, so all I really know is quite a few songs are about farmers.

Subtitles is my shot at salsa. My completely uneducated stab at something that's way too complex to just guess at. Not surprisingly, it sounds nothing like salsa. What's weird is that it sounds like pretty much everything else I listen to. I think in many ways it's the most honest thing I've ever made. By completely failing at making salsa I've managed to blend together all the club music, art music and everything else I've loved. You might hear some UK funky, or whatever the 2019 version of that is called. You might hear some minimalism. You might hear some psyched out shit. You also might hear a gigantic fucking mess. Subtitles is a translation to a film done so badly you find out more about the person who translated it than the film. I was trying to tell you about the film, but maybe you'll like the subtitles.

Shout to London Afrobeat Collective for the horns Memotone for the cello Deft for the Woos. Shout out to Scratcha DVA for being Scratcha DVA.