You are standing on a footpath in Sydney. It is midday. You hail a cab. The music on the radio is some sweet reggae track that is new to you. You ride a few blocks and get out. It’s evening but now you’re in LA. Robots have taken over the streets, marching to a beat that smells of honey and gunpowder. You push through the first open door. You are standing at the base of a pyramid in Yucatan. Giant insects, buzzing with a subatomic hum, land on your head and whisper into your ear.
“We live in an age of anarchy.”
You feel a sting enter your spine. You wake up in a cafe in Berlin.
“You must drink the poison.”
The voice is that of a cabaret singer who has just dived into the coffee in front of you. You follow her into the streets of Trenchtown. Note by note all sounds dissipate. All that’s left is an insistent drum beat and a sinuous bass line weaving back and forth in a dubwise style. A shaman hands you a book. It is a guide book taking you from Kingston to Mexico and back to Sydney. You get out of the cab and in your hand is a copy of Modus Vivendi Music presents Vol.2, a souvenir of the trip you’ve just taken, made up of messages from your various guides including Sanchez Dub, Sam Sparro, Subatomic Sound System, B.N. Loco and Julian Brody.
Michael Vandelaar
