Smoking on the mic like Smokin' Joe Frazier

The hellraiser... raising hell with the flava.

Yesterday I met with the incredible Marc Lee Brown and BuzzLightBrown (my future Bhangra Pistol). Three musical minds, in a pub, playing Joy Division and Belle and Sebastian, and what did we talk about? Vocoders; Logic plug-ins; basslines? No- films and television cop shows. We spent a good hour discussing the finer points of Slumdog Millionaire, the lesser points of The Shield and the wilder side of Will Smith. It was a real dichotomy to what we should have been talking about. Music, man... music. We did live twitters from the pub and tried our best to keep warm. Marc told us about his latest work, nurturing a talent called Ishen Amara, a gifted young songwriter. BuzzLightBrown told us about his dayjob doing webshit. And I lectured everyone on the importance of Oxford commas, which they didn't give a f*** about.

Later the iPhone came out and Buzz showed us an amazing new plug-in application where you can have a virtual MPC player on your iPhone so you can have 16 pads, cut up your own samples and tap in your own beats. Incredible. We played about with it. Then after Marc left, Buzz and I started brainstorming lyrics hooks and ideas for Bhangra Pistols. The only problem was, we were two thirty year olds sat in a pub in Camden freestyling, attracting stares from the indie-a-like droids around us, all perturbed by our rhyming apparations, trying our hardest to sound scattological like Ghostface or Doom or poignant and political like Chuck D or Nas.

Things we learned last night:

1) Will Smith should stick to big Willie style films.
2) iPhones rule.
3) Twittering from the pub is pointless.
4) Haloumi kebabs rule.
5) Marc Lee Brown needs more sleep.

The end.