Bass

The Best Show I Never Saw

24 Year Old Grammy Hog Sonny John Moore (aka Skrillex)

Shortly before Xmas Season I was introduced to the music of Sonny Moore - known nowadays by his most credible incarnation Skrillex.  Mr. Moore's three 2012 Grammys including a nom - but not a nod -  for the important 'best new artist' category place him in the rarified air of being both a major talent and a credible commercial act.  Destined for 'single-name-edness' since his early teens, Skrillex' first good paying gig was voicing the tracks on "Dear Diary, My Teenage Angst Has a Body Count" in 2004.  The precocious 16 year old then became front man of the post-hardcore outfit "From First to Last" and (inevitably, as these things will when the talent well runs deep) began his short ascent into Grammy Gravy (and - thankfully - solo-artist status.)

  Note:  guys like Beck and Skrillex always seem to do better work in an unstructured environment. Beck (as far as I know) never even bothered joining a band.

I won't gush much about the music - I'm not a music critic, and most of you will never listen to this guy (until he breaks 'mainstream' - a stream that is getting harder and harder to define lately...).  I heard about him from my industry contacts in electronic music business in New York.  That is to say, my daughter - who is a nurse, well almost - sent me a text message from Brooklyn saying "Listen to Skrillex".

I did.  And couldn't stop for about 2 months.  This happens to me about every 10-15 years (see above re: Beck, c. 1994.)  Once again - I'm a CPA Jim, not a music critic but will claim to have an ear for these things.  If I could buy stock in Skrillex, Inc. - I'd go way, way long.

But I'm getting ahead of the story.  My girlfriend casually mentioned (above the din of 'Bangarang') that my favorite new genius was playing South Padre Island.   Talk about getting ahead of yourself ....  without even really thinking about it (a fact which will become obvious shortly) I rushed to the nearest keyboard (Apple, not Korg) and bought a pair of tix to the show.  "Hell" I think to myself "I know the cat who owns the venue - I might even be able to meet this little bastard."   Stoked?  To put it mildly.

And then (in that habitually annoying way it will)... reality dawned.

CUT TO:

Mark and Erika sitting on a 3 mile long bridge at approximately midnight (on the night before 'The Big Skrillex Show').  

Erika (never my biggest fan in the driving skills department) has endured 7 hours of my long distance motoring technique (ask around - see above, re: Ms. Lee of Brooklyn.)  followed by 2 hours on the 3 mile long causeway.....

We are (of course) in the black hole of SPI 'Texas Week' spring break.  (Why the hell else, it dawns on me with a starkness which almost makes me blush, would a guy with 3 freshly minted Grammys in his back pocket go to fucking Cameron County, Texas?)

The first thing we agreed to  - after witnessing approximately 23 police and/or emergency actions,  at least one fatal car wreck (obviously, going the other way...we ourselves were clocking about .95 miles per hour) 7 drug deals and a near rape on the 3 hour causeway crossing - was that we would leave the Island early the next morning before the animals began stirring.

As she seems to be more and more often these days, my little offspring is staying a (dub)step or two ahead of me.  She saw Skrillex in some downtown hip-factory in Manhattan a couple months ago. I guess, at 54 (you know... like the Studio.... God this is getting painful...) there are a lot of people ahead of me nowadays...

But isn't it all about catching up - while you still can?

Or is it?

Clearly, Mr. Moore will not soon find himself pondering these matters.

M. Lee

on the road North - out of Spring Break Hell