jimmy iovine

Why I Didn't Eat Jimmy Iovine's Ice Cream

That up there? That's me, at the second Crack Village gig at Cargo back in 2001. It is the subject of a CAPTION CONTEST on my Facebook page, but feel free to leave nentreis here if you can't be arsed with that thing. It's sure been pissing em off lately. I log in to admion my page, and I am presented with a liost fo all the crappy articles my friends have been reading, like some amped up Daily Mail sidebar it is shameful.

Still, Facebook remains a good place for connecting with fellow humans, and fielding enquiries. Looky Khan asks via my wall:

I want to ask u a question. 'way back home' you said "I said yes to the deal, and no to the ice cream" the ice cream is a metaphor, this I know, but what? Was Jimmy lovine asking you to sell your soul to the devil??

Well, I suppose he was, but the ice cream was entirely literal. After sitting on a vast leather sofa in the room next to his office - which looked like the room Mr I Was Very Very Drunk from The Fast Show sits in - admiring his collection of framed letters from Tupac ("thank you dear Jimmy") and signed guitars and things, I was summon-ed. We went out on his balcony, overlooking LA, and, after blowing some smoke up my ass ("you've changed music forever! I knew the next seismic shift in rap would come from the UK! I want to put you in the studio with Dr Dre and Snoop Dogg!") he asked me if I wanted any ice cream. He said he had the finest ice cream know to man. I was like, "nah, I'm alright". It was obviously a massive foux par, as everybody got all weird and nervous. "You could have blown that!" squealed the guy helping broker the deal later, who we'd affectionately christened Ratboy. "You don't turn down ice cream from Jimmy Iovine!"

In retrospect I have no idea why I turned it down, other than I just wasn't particularly hungry, and whilst I am a lot of things, I am no glutton for sweets. I like Ice Cream - who, save the intolerant of lactose, does not? He also offered me run of the stock cupboard and I accepted that gladly. I left the Interscope offices laden with CDs - Guns 'n' Roses, Dr Dre Instrumentals, Gilbert & Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance cast recordings... But that ice cream will forever remain a mystery.

So, I spent an intense weekend recording Christmas music for my Xmas LP (with occasional JD and Coke fuelled diversions into San Andreas), which I am now mixing. My Logic skills are coming on in leaps and moon vaults, and I have been amassing some useful information, a little of whihc I thought I should share today, in case any of you ever have the same problem. See, Logic, unlike Acid, has no autosave, and late on Sunday I was sat in the candle light, cheeks wet with tears, having just spent half an hour recording a particularly emotional number, when disaster struck - an obnoxious little window popped up on screen decalring, rudely, "COULDN"R CREAT REGION ERROR"! A stab of sickness penetrated my belly, unleashing swarm of butterflies, and panic flooded my loungs as I desperately clicked around the screen trying to reactive the page, all to no avail. "Ping!" went the error noise "Piiiing!" This ensued for a long time, and I started to fear that I would have to force-quit Logic (the deadlier Mac equivalent of Control Alt & Delete), thus losing all that work.

I was saved, however, by some internet detective work on the Logic forums.

The fix: Simply go to "Window", then click "Cycle through windows". Once you do that, you can go to File and the save options are going to be enabled. Then, once saved, you'll need to force quit to be able to get Logic working again. When opened you should have the project you saved available wherever you decided to save it as.

Hallelujah! Praise Xenu! Praise R kelly! Praise the helpful humans of the Logic forums! It worked! And my work was saved!

And soon, you will hear it. Alongside a whole flipping Christmas album, we're having Advent on akirathedon.com, and it's going to be a beautiful, bountiful affair. It all starts on December 1st, with the Nothing Lasts Forever video. it is my best video ever, and I can't ewait for you to see it.

Meanwhile, the ATD XMAS SHOP is officially OPEN FOR BUSINESS ! Amongst many wonderful things, you can buy your very own custom Don Doodle for just £5!

Joy to the world!

Mothboy's Last Album Is Called BUNNY

OK, never mind that bollocks I was on earlier. Actually, never mind that bollocks I said one sentence ago. One should never pour scorn on sadness! Sadness is as real as anything else! And deserves accordant respect! Yes!

So, big up that bollocks I was on earlier. Big up my sadness. Big up YOUR sadness. Hells yeahs we get it sometimes, especially when we've been trying to put out our second LP for 3 years and stuff keeps on going DODGE. Rah, I take it so lightly, but deep down I understand that I am dealing with cotdang deep-ass super-emotional ultra-real multi-concious-affecting  ART right here, and that ish touches you deep down where no light can reach just hearing it... so imagine what it does to the person making it! Oh GOD, why didn't anyone WARN me?! Why have I only just realised this?

Christ. I think I am doing pretty well then, considering. Big up me! Big up Jeres and Frankie, with whom I just shared drinks and good banter about literature and stuff!

And big up my old pal Mothboy! He's just dropped his third LP. Naturally, I am on it. I have been on all three of Mothboy's albums. There's some beautiful symmetry. The first was a joint called All The Wrong Places from his debut, The Fears. I wrote that sat on a fire hydrant outside the American Apparel store in the Lower East Side of New York one night, then recorded that shit in Rat Boy's studio, two days before I flew to LA to meet Jimmy Iovine. The second was called I Can See Cities, and that was on his, doh, second LP, Deviance. I wrote that sat outside the Special Cafe in Clissold Park in London. It was a beautiful day. Anow now, 2010, comes...

Johnny Nemo.

Inspired in part by a comic book sent me at Christmas by the good Dr Raydome, I wrote it SAT ON MY SWIVEL CHAIR IN MY STUDIO, and it features on the last Mothboy album...

Bunny.

"'Bunny' will be the last album by me as Mothboy," writes Moth. "For the past 10 years I've been using the name and have decided to use it no longer as am no longer a boy ha!!  So essentially want to end on a high... Album mixture of beats , pop , jazz , funk and bass and some surprises (same as always). Guests to see me out are yerself Adam , Martin Carr , Ted Parsons, Robert Conroy , Gustave Savy, Sezrah Sylvan, David Madden , Paul Gannaway and Suzi C, album artwork by Martin Cornish [the art is BANGING - ATD], mastered by David Dando-Moore, will be released on Ad Noiseam oooh new year-ish. I will promote it , shows etc then stop the project altogether... pastures new from then on (no I am not going "Dubstep"!)... concentrating on live instrument stuff like my Gator Bait Ten band , a punk band or two and then will work on some 4/4 minimal house stuff under my Esjayes moniker. Been fun though but think its reached the end of its natural lifespan."

So there you go. Mothboy is dead. Long live Mothboy. Here, from that new LP what is called Bunny, is a song featuring me, which is called Johnny Nemo.

Lush

So I fell alseep on the sofa after 5, and was awakened gently by Super Phil at 6:20, and it transpired Bird left my bag with my passport in it at the venue last night. But Bird's got me another ID card, so we're outside waiting for Jeff to pick us up at 6:30. And at midday we're in LA, and soon after that we're in Interscope's offices,and I'm filling a bag with Nirvana, Guns N Roses, Gilbert And Sullivan, Dre, Peter Gabriel, Police and other such back catalogue. Jimmy Iovine has a signed letter from Tupac and a video console that won't switch on. And loads of ideas. A balcony. A lush view. LA is lush to look at, from these places of advantage. Like, later we visit Jeff and Trent's, and there's this fucking alien cat that loves me, and an incredible, incredible view, of this desolate wilderness spattered with money.

It was a lovely day.

But in the nighttime it is hard not to see that LA is awash with cunts. It is a sad and massive amount of cunts, and I am not sure whether it is sad because this is what the world did to them, or because this is what they do to the world, or because they are cunts, and you can see their faces rotting right in front of your eyes.