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My DJ moniker Port-a-Party is somewhat ironic in this compressed
digital era. Hefting a 60-pound crate of 45s on and off buses is itself
a part of the performance (although there is no conscious audience).
Never mind that 10 times as many songs now tuck into breast pocket.
I'm not sure why I do it other than I love the music--the warm sound
of vinyl, the meditative stylus placement ritual, each song an artifact.
Someone told me it's better to have the needle dig than skate so I
taped an oldish NYC subway token to the tone arm and the Numark my
sister gave me never sounded better. I eschewed the usual tube amp
Newcomb tonight because I needed to plug in direct at Vermillion. I really
didn't miss the extra weight and worry of the oldie gramophone.
I also
lugged and plugged my digital projector and showed a slightly askew
marathon of the first four volumes of robZtv. I sold a lucky number's
worth but even more important were the two dudes who separately
introduced themselves with hugs and gratitude saying the films gave
them something that's absent from mean-spirited mainstream media.