We are happy to welcome Indra for this new installment. A Berkeley based deep listener and vinyl collector, Indra greatly enjoys moments of collective effervescence in the right spaces. Their love for music stems from imperfect and improvisational traditions as well as collective listening recommendations within their close knit group of fellow music lovers. They try their best to seek out and support culturally minoritized spaces in which dance music can be experienced.
Traversing various percussive patterns that move in and out of 4/4, breakbeat and abstract rhythms; a cinematic ride, scenes passing outside a train window, straddling the tension from dark and pensive to uplifting and ethereal. Punctuated by moments of poetic respite through spoken word fragments is an hour long listening experience for soft reflection and a gentle embrace of lost dance floors.
Tracklist:
The Caretaker - Mournful Camaraderie
Intrusion Dubs - Vincis (Intrusion’s Possession Dub)
Francis Harris - Archive Fever
Frank & Tony (Feat. Gry) - Bring the Sun
Willrijk - Promised Land
Frank & Aakmael - Mercy of Means
Route 8 - 4th Journey
Lack - Machine Club
Frits Wentink and Erik Madigan Heck - An Infant’s Dream
Nadia Khan - Rain Again (Lawrence Remix)
Octo Octa (Avalon Emerson Remix) - Adrift (Avalon Emerson’s Furiously Awake Remix)
Escape Artist - Another World
Konduku - Belki
Graften - Heden
Dreamlogicc - Slow Goin
Pugilist - Encrypted
Matrix - Fluid Motion
Kim Jinmook - Facing to Spica
CST: Introvert or extrovert?
I: Introvert who occasionally overshares
CST: What is your morning ritual?
I: Drinking a glass of warm water and a short morning walk.
CST: What parties/underground/diy spaces did you go to when you first started partying/discovering music?
I: Ships in the Night in Oakland - so many beautiful people and performances
CST: What are you reading right now?
I: I'm re-reading The Dispossessed by Ursula Le Guin. I also recently read a couple of short stories by Murakami (about a monkey who steals names) and they left a really strong impression on me.
CST: Where was the first party/underground show you ever went to?
I: My friend took me to a Rare Form show in Oakland Chinatown
CST: Where is your favorite place to dance/listen/watch music?
I: Before all this, I had a lot of fun going to some Noctuary shows (a v. sweet + important party that used to happen in San Francisco). I also enjoy listening to music on a train, sitting by the window. The movement often lends itself very well to what i'm hearing.
CST: What is your favorite record/music shop?
I: I was blown away by the collection at A-1 records in New York (the one time I was able to go there).
CST: What was the first record/music you ever bought?
I: I think my first record may have actually been 'You' by Frank and Tony
(the one with the DJ Sprinkles collaboration on Scissor and Thread).
CST: Where are you from and where do you live now?
I: The longest time I have lived anywhere is in Berkeley, California (where I am right now). However, I'm originally from India, from an industrial town called Jamshedpur where both sides of my parents' families lived. I feel really fortunate to have been able to come to America - the rest of my family is in India; but I do miss India a lot! We speak Bengali at home, a somewhat borderless language.
CST: is there a concept or theme for this mix and if so, can you tell us about it a little bit more about it?
I: I'm not fully certain. Perhaps this is well suited for a slow sunrise at a small forest gathering of friends (although i don't think i would try to play vinyl outdoors). Things have been rather heavy lately, and I want to fully appreciate those feelings rather than pushing them under the rug as we slowly come out of it, if that makes sense. A year or so ago, I read this from an artist's interview and I think about it quite a bit:
"I used to get taken away to the middle of nowhere, by the sea, I love it out there, because when it’s dark, it’s totally dark, ..... We used to have to walk back and hold hands and use a lighter. See the light, see where you were and then you’d walk on, and the image of where you just were would still be on your retina. You couldn’t see anything, but you’d see stars." I think it's important to value what we learn from this communal sense of loss over the last year or so. Perhaps we can also learn to better value our own imperfections/humanity through this journey (something that I struggle with)... among other things...
