Why do I write this on a Monday morning? Surely I am as prone to the blues that everyone faces after a weekend of boozing and fun, the thought of another five days of mental toil or physical torment. Well not really. I don’t need to tell you that I usually love my job, and the nearest I get to physical exercise sometimes is lifting the top of my laptop up and down. Most weeks the most dreaded activity I face is something relatively banal, like ringing the dentist to rearrange a check up or take the car for its M.O.T. But as is the case with relativity, I do find these seemingly normal activities quite trying. And that is because I am a social retard. It has taken me thirty years to be able to use the term ‘mate’ in conversation with other men appropriately. I have only just worked out a competent assertive phone manner to talk to the council or order a take away. I struggle to communicate with a large number of normal people in a worrying amount of everyday situations. Shop staff, mechanics, teenagers, other peoples parents, neighbours, bar tenders, taxi drivers – all can fill me with fear if I haven’t considered what I am going to say to them, or how I am going to say it. Maybe everybody feels it? I know for a fact that lots of people in the music business, especially producers, aren’t tremendous at socialising. Managers, agents and lots of DJs enjoy meeting people, chatting or networking and generally doing all the things required to enable collaborations and projects to happen in the world. I on the other hand dread the thought of a night or day of this kind of interaction. But there is a great paradox within me, as is the case of nearly everybody on the planet.

        But for all my shyness and social awkwardness, I can on occasion turn on the charm or shrug off the over awareness of a strangers gaze. When I turn up in a country or city to DJ, quite often for the first time, I will have to try to bond very quickly with a small group of people who have paid money and invested time and energy into bringing me over. Part of my job in this situation is to act graciously to this fact, relay some stories of current gigs or productions, and generally seem warm, amused and amusing, occasionally with promoters with a limited grasp of English. A few times I have had to attempt to convey my character through a primitive type of sign language. So in this situation I have to overcome any social embarrassment very quickly. And then you have the fact of one of the other major aspects of my job. Standing in front of hundreds of people and trying to entertain them with music. I know it isn’t the same as stand up or singing, but still you are leaving yourself open to some criticism or opinion on the quality of your performance. So why would a shy sensitive soul put themselves through it? And why for that matter would he wear a wrestling mask while he is doing it, tantamount to shouting out “Look at me everybody! Look how great I am!”  To go off track for a minute, that is exactly what I did at Plastic People last Saturday on the 8^th. Well I thought it would be funny, but it appears Shoreditch doesn’t have a sense of humour. Maybe I don’t really belong there. Big up to Floating Points and Kissey Asplund that night, it was great to hang out and drop some science with you guys. For dressing up I have got to shout all the Up rock crew, and generally bringing the dope vibes and a sense of humour to Jazz and Hip Hop. I like cool people that don’t take themselves too seriously. That is really, really cool. What I’m saying by that is I think I am really cool, and other people who think they are cool who are too cool to have fun the way I do, aren’t cool. So therefore I am being a kind of Coolist, that being someone who judges others on the specific type of cool they think they are. But it is easy to tell how great others think they are, especially when they have no concept of how ridiculous their front is, or how stupid their clothes are or stink their attitude is.  Oh dear, I am starting to have two theme threads here and somehow I need to wrap them both up before the end of this blog. But both of them concern the nature of showing off.  And what I have in myself, and most people I get on with, is an extreme. I am very shy and humble most of the time, but on occasion I have the confidence or just bloody mindedness to be silly or loud or just show off for a bit. It would be a most boring world If everyone maintained a constant level of creative cool, where they wore the right clothes, liked the same music and appreciated the same films, paintings or books. I refuse to be part of a scene or be expected to know about and like certain things because a small group of trendsetters claim it to be of the now. I’m thirty years old for god’s sake.  But the worst kind of show off is the natural, continual show off. They are a ridiculous shrine to wanting everybody to look at them, all of the time. A constant craving for attention and acceptance from their peers, which is both trying and depressing in equal measure. These kinds of people have no fluctuation in mood or opinion, have no idea what to make of anything they are faced with until the leader of their pack (not Gary Glitter) decides for them, although they dress and act like they are such individuals. Pfff.

     So in conclusion, like a great record I am happy to have such a dramatically different A and B-side. At least it makes life interesting for everybody, including yourself. One more thing before I go, big up to everybody that came to the last Free soul Session at Cargo on the 9^th, and best of luck to Mashi on his journey West to the plastic land of fantasy. All the best brother! And extra thanks to Motet and Mystro for the jokes at The Tilt, listening to The Renaissance. If you haven’t bought or heard the new Q-Tip album, buy it now. Don’t even listen to it, just buy it. It is the Hip-Hop album we all wanted and deserved since Beats, Rhymes and Life. And cheers Ben for the last ’Ben Talks Jazz’, great tip! Till next time, take care of yourself and each other!