cliqhop

I am not apologizing for being overly bold or sweeping in my declaration of love:

Cliqhop is the greatest radio station on the planet. The deepest resource of super fat electronica beats and pulses and intricacies. You need to listen.

Sometimes I have to set listening aside like a wonderful book that desires my full attention: I wish to get lost in the characters and plots so deeply that nothing but headphones and my full imagination will do. I have trouble listening casually.

So many nameless artists that will never know how much they moved me, amused me, made me turn up the speaker and anticipate every tiny click. Sorry if I never told you before.

I try very hard to make music worthy of Cliqhop. I don’t think there is a time when I edit my tracks recently that I don’t fantasize about it.

Did you ever attend a music event so enlightening that you were thoroughly convinced there was no other place on the planet at that moment in history that could rival it? Well, this is the radio station equivalent. I am not saying you won’t hear clunkers: but I am saying you will hear music you may never have contemplated before.

I am listening and lost in the SomaFM feed with my toes in the sand on the beach and drowning out the populous. I sometimes get all upset about the state of music. I try not to get worked up. I am kinda emotional.

I compare electronic listeners today with those few listeners who tuned in to early jazz records and were mesmerized by both the fact that what they were hearing was blowing their mind and that the rest of the world wasn’t grasping it. Their experience fits equally with the secret world of Cliqhop: Sometimes I feel like this invisible data stream randomly cycling through a treasure of modern electric music is just that type of gift. Like an album or film or book, this is one of those personal treasures that you want to tell everybody about. So I am.

Here. Go.

Cliqhop.

About coloringpad

where was i? leaman has had his ear on a speaker since the art of noise came through his plastic shack radio, tuning in static and pops and clicks and thumps until he found and then dove headfirst, smiling, into electronica. rave. the repetitive beat led him to be a (rather unsuccessful) dj named puppy who spun belgian and german minimalist ambient and tecno. a miracle accordion repairman blessed him with a roland tr808 and he realized that he could make this thing called music, so he bought 12 guitar pedals and started reinventing the song that never sleeps. another miracle gave him salisbury, bertaccini and agelasto in a band that could not be named, but could consider the hum of a speaker a song. as radiate sky,he became a man made entirely of audio cords and instruction manuals and things that need electricity to make sounds. he misses improvising at the underpass and the dancing goat, where he found the people that make that thing over there and aether generator, and so here we are. where am i? leaman is not a musician... he is a fingerpainter with audio weapons. feedback loops and bitcrushers and pedals and things with lots of knobs and buttons and switches and sliders. currently working on two albums (as coloringpad and with aether generator) and making pedals and trying to find you.

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