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MARCH ’16 MIX.

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As we sit up after a moment of rare lost ecstasy, backs straight against the couch, we take notice of what is around us. The smells, the sounds, the weird itches on the outside of your right thigh that you only notice at times like this. You are conscious of your posture, I am too. We profess our hesitancies and proclaim our merit, our value. You make mention of how I’ve changed you. We explore where this is heading.

I admire your earnestness, your heart and everything inside seeping out your sleeve, out there for the world to see. You suggest that I could learn a thing or two from you. “I have” I replied.

With some quick fleeting resolve, I blurt out that “we need to look after each other. Better.” This was the exact thing you had yelled at me weeks earlier as you slammed the front door and left for your parents place. The very fact that I just parroted it back at you wasn’t lost on me.

Still on the couch, you pull your pants back up. I stand up to get my shirt that you threw all the way over to the other side of the room. You didn’t do anything in halves. I had always enjoyed that about you. Slowly buttoning my shirt back up, I meander back to the couch. I sit down and turn to you. You kiss me, the first in what was forever.

We both stand up, and slowly put the rest of our clothes back on in silence. We’ll speak, at various points through the rest of the day. We’ll speak about everything else, all the time waiting again for that moment of fleeting resolve.

Miks

JANUARY+FEBRUARY ’16 MIX.

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As I sit writing this post, I remind myself that this has been a long time coming.

As slight changes emerge within my day to day life both with this site, new silly ventures, and PhD and work life, I remind myself that all of this has been a long time coming. As I finish off with Hayden Calnin’s masterpiece of a track ‘Cut Love’, I steady myself. Feet firmly on the floor and the words flowing steadily from my hands, appearing on the screen in front of me.

All of this. Everything leading up to this very point in time.

As I sit with old favourites like Arthur Wimble, LANKS, and Ciggie Witch, I mark out my territory. And as I sit and be floored again by Marcus Whale, Luke Howard, and LUCIANBLOMKAMP, I wipe away those old tears. And then with those new infatuations – Alice Ivy, Isabel, and the almighty Dogood, I slowly fall back into a feeling of warmth and knowing and remind myself.

This has been a long time coming.

For some time now I’ve made it a habit to talk around the music. This was how you write. The story on Catalyst the other night about music being used to elicit memories for people living with dementia as they sit, still in those old people’s homes I became convinced that fuck it. What’s the point. If music can do that then it’s indescribable. You’re always going to do it a disservice.

But then I read those others who also do music writing. Those others who write about the music itself. None of it’s perfect, but that’s the fuckin’ beauty of it. This game is about getting close, slowly scraping away at the surface and finding some through line, no matter how long/short/narrow/wide and having that one person sit back and think, ‘fuck, that’s it. that’s what I hear.’

As I start afresh, I see that I’m here. This is where I was heading.

Miks

NOVEMBER+DECEMBER ’15 MIX.

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Sometimes I don’t know what to write at all for these little things. They’re becoming rarer and rarer (it’s the (currently) bi-monthly australian music mixtape site!), and it’s becoming more and more difficult to consider how these tapes somehow relate to my own life in direct, although subtle ways.

For sure it does, what with myself compiling them. And they’re solid tapes too, so, for sure, that’s a nice little accolade for my own musical curating ways. But those direct tangible summaries of feelings and thoughts and states of being that these tapes have helped to provide is becoming less and less clear.

I’m pre-empting a feeling that will hit in a few weeks where after quite a bit of change, I’ll find myself something new.

DOWNLOAD

Best of the year tape will be up in the next couple of weeks too (although last time I promised something I missed it by a month). So yes. Stay tuned for that.

Miks

SEPTEMBER+OCTOBER ’15 MIX.

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Sometimes you’ll tell the most unexpected people the most unexpected things. 

I am the perennial slug. Slow off the mark. No protective shell. But resilient. Leaves a trail. I know my story and can trace those stories to where I’m at now.

I like to be all romantic and believe that this site acts as part of the mucusy trail. But hey, with my lack of discipline with this of late, it’s more like the occasional stop over for supplies. I use to romance the idea that music is my constant. It’s the thing that keeps me going, man. But nah, fuck it, it’s my pit stop.  These tracks are my pit stop. A long pit stop full of three or four days worth of sifting through the shit oily crap to find that one (or in the case of this tape, 29), good fuckin’ chiko roll.

Expect another tape, the November one in a couple of weeks. This slug’s been going full hog the last couple of months. Going to stock up on those chiko rolls in a coupla weeks again.

DOWNLOAD

Miks

AUGUST ’15 MIX.

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I find myself obsessed with this idea of rummaging just on the edge. So much of what we do is about doing what we did yesterday, and doing what we’ll probably do tomorrow. There’s a familiarity to repetition. Often it helps us stay sane. 

And occasionally you’ll sit on the edge of that Comfort, tentatively dip your toe into those unknown waters and slowly remove some of those covers.

As I embark on the next six months, I am trying to broaden out those boundaries. And with that, I hope that maamf will too broaden out. Next year though. Next year.

I find myself obsessed with priorities. It’s priorities that drive us (insane), keep us (from) going (mad).

DOWNLOAD (Right Click/Save As)

Miks

JULY ’15 MIX.

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I was going to begin this month’s with some long winded metaphorical ramble about names and hey, what’s in a name you know?

Big statements make us take notice. That immediate impact, no matter what, can be pretty hard to forget. Statements that are distinctive in their voice, in their makeup, hey even in their words.

It looks like a scene from The Great Gatsby out my window – a low lit swimming pool with young, attractive people, cavorting around, champagne in hand. They’re making impacts. Drunk, flirtatious immediate impacts. You’ll see what’s underneath those pert bods soon, the distinct beings that they are. But for now, those quick smacks in the face’ll do you.

A tape, full of everything, all marked and unmistakable in what they’re conveying. All for you. And please try the download – you won’t regret it (ha mate, hopefully).

DOWNLOAD (Right Click/Save As)

Miks

JUNE ’15 MIX.

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I fucking shouted it, much louder than I ever thought I knew my voice could go. Much bigger, louder, with this knowledge and acceptance.

Up until this point I had tolerated it. Now, I accept it.

It’s done. I’m down. Here in Melbourne, where it’s fucking cold but there’s amazing sights and great coffee at nearly every turn. And the site, the website that is, is changing and it’s all- everything’s a familiar new. Big generous helpings of everything you’ve come to expect, but all just sitting slightly different.

Full download available below, but if you just sitting at work/home/life looking for that next distraction/reason to live, you can stream ’em all too.

DOWNLOAD (Right Click/Save As)

Miks

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