![]() Some weeks, I find myself listening to almost nothing but.ĭespite the legal/ethical quandary that mp3 file sharing throws up, everyone seems to give DJ mixes a free pass. With high-speed connections, cheap server space, large capacity email, and near terrabyte-sized hard-drives, it's a growing market. I have sets from Derrick May at the Music Institute in 1987, '96 Metalheadz Blue Note sessions, and 2005 dubplate selections from guys I've never heard of. ![]() They range from current transmissions from East London and Cologne, to scratchy disco tapes from the dawn of DJ mixing. Now, with a little searching, I can find thousands of mixes. With some genres, like grime and leftfield jungle, the mixes never came at all. Or you could listen to the tracks individually, a bit like cutting paragraphs from a book. You could rely on the slow trickle of properly licensed CD mixes throughout the year. ![]() As a dance music fan trapped in club-free suburbia, consuming music one song at a time wasn't just frustrating: It was antithetical. ![]() Online mixes have deformed my listening habits beyond all expectations.
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