Use only as directed. Can be taken as needed to alleviate boredom while driving. Clinical studies have shown Ruddyburn can reduce swearing associated with pledge week on NPR. Ruddyburn is maximum strength medicine. Each disc is nearly 7.5 hours long. A healthy individual should not attempt to listen to an entire disc in one sitting. Side effects may include fatigue and paranoia. However, if you are exposed to a psychoactive chemical, don't panic. Insert one CD in the nearest mp3 player and let the treatment work. If the music stops and reality is still out of reach, insert the second disc. Ruddyburn contains explicit substances, and should not be used around children.
Ruddyburn began as a sketch in my notebook... No. My bad. That is how the funky radical bomb track started. Ruddyburn began with a camping trip. A college friend owned some land in East Texas, so the plan was to spend the weekend out there, with plenty of beer, scotch, bourbon, smoke, etc. The location was remote, so there was the possibility of blasting loud music. This appealed to me. I was in the depths of fatherhood. With a young second child, there were few chances to crank the stereo, particularly while intoxicated. I had continued to acquire new music, but I had not heard much of this new material in the proper mental state. I bought a portable radio with 18 hours of battery life, and good sound. I then set out to program enough music to last the entire weekend. We don't have this trip every year, but nevertheless I got into the habit of producing an annual mix, capturing my listening habits over the previous year. The name Ruddyburn was a nickname given to a small stream that runs through my friends land. It is a shallow, often dry, creek that runs thick with the red mud in the area. I co-opted this as the name for the mix. The "burn" takes on a nice double meaning since I record the mix on two mp3 CD's. I now think of songs that are part of my personal soundtrack as being "Ruddy".
The format of Ruddyburn is two discs. One for Friday night and one for Saturday night. The two independent mixes proved superior to a single randomized playlist. On the second day, you could be sure not to repeat any of the same songs as the first day. Also, it was possible to order the songs. I could front load the stuff I wanted to hear most. Over time the arc has evolved to resemble a familiar pattern. There is a rush at the beginning, a freak out section in the middle, and then a come down phase at the end. Typically, newer music plays early and old favorites creep in toward the end. My musical taste is all over the map, and I enjoy clashing genres. Very few of these tracks have seen air time on popular radio. Since the attendees of the camping trip are guys, there is a masculine bias to the selection. I also favor music that sounds good on a portable stereo. It may not be what you expect.
I know. Mixtapes are so cliché. Who really ever wants to receive a mixtape? It is like musical homework. What level of ego mania is required to commandeer another person's stereo, particularly for 15 hours? Well, this mix was born as an invention for my own consumption, and I have tried to stay true to that. Sometimes I want to take a break from evaluating new music. I just want the stereo to hum with one jam piled up on the next. At this point, I have several mixes that can serve that purpose, and I add two more each year. These also act as time machines. If I listen to my 2012 mix, I am reliving my soundtrack from that year. It is transporting. I do burn copies for my friends, because so far they have humored me and have given me the impression they listen to them from time to time. We are living in an age where 30 somethings have terabytes of music on their hard drives (Thanks to napster and bit torrent) and 20 somethings don't even need to save it since Spotify puts a near infinite collection in their pocket. But can they possibly listen to it all? It seems the role of the curator is still relevant. Many years ago, when I had spare time instead of children, I fancied myself a creative person, dabbling in music, sculpture, poetry, etc. Now, this annual mix is the only creative project that fits into my schedule. I can cull tracks while commuting or play judge and executioner via my headphones as I sit with the other parents watching gymnastics class. Some naysayers might point out that there is nothing creative about cobbling together music that was produced by other artists. I can see their point, but I take comfort in a quote from Dawkins, "Effective searching procedures become, when the search-space is sufficiently large, indistinguishable from true creativity."
More and more, I try to enable an organic process of selection. Most important, I have to listen to the music a lot. If at some point during the year, I have a "Moment" with a particular song, a time when the artist's vision is made clear and I can perceive their skill in the execution of that vision, I will then add the song to the next year's mix. So, selection is not something I do over an all-nighter at the last minute. Songs have to bubble up into the mix when I am calm, at peace. My goal is that each song in the mix should have some nugget of redeeming value buried inside of it. Sometimes, I will find myself adding a song to Ruddyburn for the second time in the same year. These songs go into the "Double Down" playlist. They are almost assured a spot in the next mix and will likely feature earlier in the mix. Toward the end of the year, I switch from positive to negative listening. By that point, I usually have about 2 GB that I have to cut down to 1.4 GB. The cuts have to be hard. If I am having too easy a time culling the mix, it means there was too much fat to begin with. The songs have to compete for existence in the mix. I will test-drive the mix full time almost to the point of burn-out. I become cruel and hateful and allow the songs no slack. Pretenders are cast out. This will continue until the mix can fit on two discs. Ruddyburn tries to preserve an older path of discovery. When digging, I now force myself to acquire entire albums at a time as opposed to just the most popular songs for a particular artist. I also try to only allow one album for an artist per Ruddyburn CD, so I have to spend time with that artist's particular work for a year before discovering new material from them. I don't always go in chronological order, but that keeps it interesting. I sometimes have multi-album representation if an artist attains the rank of "Repeat Offender". I do feel that actually paying for my music is an important part of the filtering process. It certainly played a role when I was in college (Early nineties). An artist must pass several tests before I even buy them. Then the listening begins and there are further stages. Only a few will reach the 36th chamber. As an edit to this, I am now on board with streaming services. This makes it easier to cast a wider net. I was spending way too much money on music and hitting some dud albums that didn't pan out. I still plan to buy the tracks that pass the first level. This won't guarantee an appearance in Ruddyburn, but will be the first step. I am trying to keep my evaluation playlist tight each year so I go deeper into each album. 2018 will be the first release of my post-Spotify process.