Real Time Recording Loves

This is a

fREE site

Well what we love, as most Amiga owners will already know, is playing with our Miggys S8). For those unenlightened folk who have never used an AMIGA(tm) computer then ya don't know what ya missing. Get one of these archaic (Ha Ha Ha, yeah not as archaic as certain IBM compatible systems, Multitasking ? had it since '85. Yes, you read that right, 1985, and it's built in, not some DOS cludge.) machines running at speed and the world is your oyster. All of the Main artwork you see on these pages (and the pages) is created by a cretin of a musician and a few art packages that cost less than 50 quid each.

All Real time recording productions are exclusively produced on a less than 100 uk pound machine that has been upgraded to the massive spec of 28Mhz processor (been 32-bit since 92), A whole whopping 6 Megabytes of ram (oooh does it even boot) and a 1.2gig IDE hard drive (Of which 800Mb is archives for my bbs). Pretty unimpressive spec huh :> .. Well that's all ya need with one of these glorious machines to get ya head round the bits and bobs of cool (cheap) software available for it. Even now whilst making these pages I have over fifteen programs running side by side, OS slowing down at all ? ermmm NOPE ..

Another thing we collectively used to love is playing out live with our (badly in need of attention) analogue gear combined with, yes you guessed it, Our Miggys and one of Roland's(tm) Latest, Coolest, Bangin, drum synth combos, the MC-303 or BOB as it has become known to us.(Anyone got a JP8000 / MC-505 / 233MhzPPC604e-68060 / PPCVision / A4000 they wanna lend us on a permanent basis S8>.) Nowadays life is a little simpler for some of us but the gear is still gigging around with some of the original members.

mR pINk.

And now the hates

So you want to know what winds me up? Out of all the things that come from being a westcountry agitant artist on the edge of the millenium,the thing or things that wind me up mostly are bloody Londoners. Living outside of the Motorway mainframe that sucks all life towards our nations rotten heart, we tend to have a point of view quite baffling to most of our capital's dwellers. It is this lack of comprehension of our way of life that is the nub of my point or more importantly how this failing manifests itself.

On any summer Saturday a hoard of our brothers and sisters from London stream down to our isoleted paradise bringin gifts of meaningless popular culture and gawping at our own culture. The sight that greets them is a population not looking to the capital for inspiration. Unable to grasp this with their festering egos, the defence mechanisms of the visitor go into overtime and translate themselves into something more palatable. In less than a micro second the pain of rejection morphs itself into that, `nails down a blackboard' of words, QUAINT.

From that point on they have a permanent aural filter. We say `You are as interesting as shit', but they hear `Wow you're so cutting edge and fascinating'. Literally nothing you say gets through. Although this is by far the most interesting part of their character, I feel that it is my duty, as an ignorant inbred bumpkin living in the past, to shatter this illusion. In short, I'm going to ram a Pasty right up their brash superior arse.

Omslag van Knoblet