Sound-o-matic

Mixmaster Mike has made a brilliant career of slicing and dicing together noise and music

Whether by fate or by design, accomplished DJ Mixmaster Mike has consistently found himself in the position of liaison between underground sound-manipulation culture and more mainstream audiences. With the Beastie Boys, on Hello Nasty. With the unbelievable turntablist collective Invisibl Skratch Picklz, who made music-mag headlines when they were "retired" from a worldwide scratching competition after three consecutive wins. With Rob freakin' Zombie, of all people. And he's once again bridging the culture gap in a big way, as an opening act on the first Guns N' Roses tour in nine years, one of the most high-profile rock jaunts of 2002."I like to dabble in different areas," says the master, nee Michael Schwartz. "It's all about doing your art and spreading it out, keeping it alive so other DJs can do their thing."

True, the concept of a tricky aural-collage innovator trying to win over an arena full of diehard GNR fans might make your brain go all gooey. One certainly might be inspired to wonder who could've cooked up such an unlikely scenario, before remembering that the Gunners' sole original member is none other than rock 'n' roll's answer to Howard Hughes. According to Mike, Axl himself brought up the idea after witnessing a screening of the 2001 documentary Scratch, followed by a live performance by some of its principals, including the Picklz co-founder.

"He saw the movie, and he went to one of the shows," says the DJ. "He watched what I did and he got inspired. He called my management and hooked it up."

Mike reports that the response to his sets has been overwhelmingly positive, "considering the fact that they don't know what the hell's going on with hip-hop or scratching."

That the crowds are getting it at all is pleasantly surprising, and much to their credit, because his style of composition goes far beyond the generally routine beats to which most pedestrian listeners have been exposed.

"The beat is the foundation, but there's lots of foundations," he says. "The beat's as important as the scratch, the bass line. Everything works together strategically to create a whole music mindfuck."

Mixmaster Mike's music doesn't tell you to wave your hands in the air, and wave them like you just don't care. In fact, in terms of commercial hip-hop, his stuff is relatable only to the thick, busy sounds of Public Enemy's Bomb Squad or The Dust Brothers (who conceived the sounds of the landmark 1989 Beastie Boys album Paul's Boutique); it's got much more in common with jazz's daring, spontaneous corners than with the radio-ready bounce.

"My heroes remain Jimi Hendrix, Miles Davis, Coltrane, Zeppelin, John Bonham. I'm kind of using their way of making music and bending it to my way of creating on the turntables," says Mike. "I'm taking that same road to music-making."

He considers the 'tables as true and valid an instrument as any other, and he's got a point — a guitar is an instrument not only when being used to write a song, but also when some clod is cat-strangling his way through "Brown-Eyed Girl," right?

But in any case, Mike's instrumental prowess goes beyond the mixer. He's capable of wringing inventive sonics out of an arsenal of synths and other musical implements, in addition to culling prerecorded sounds from a variety of sources. This emphasis on organic, "musical" elements sets his style far apart from the army of laptop jockeys currently cannibalizing the same stock samples. He can't worry about the technological ease of sound manipulation watering down his genre; he's too busy staying ahead of the pack and honing his eminently listenable chops.

"Let them do what they're gonna do, if they're gonna mess shit up or whatever — we're living in a digital world now. It's weird," he says. "I'm not really into that, I'm into organically growing sounds together. I still have my Mini-Moogs and my synths. I'm still gonna have that warm analog sound to it, that raw sound. You can hear the popcorn in the back — that's the shit."

Mixmaster Mike's latest full-length solo effort, Return of The Cyklops, combines material from previous, hard-to-find EPs and 12-inches with six new tracks. It's a multilayered aural journey, one that inspires the ol' confused-puppy look as often as it does the urge to do a little popping and locking (they're classic B-boy dance moves, where your arms "pop" and "lock" and ... oh, forget it).

Agonizing over exactly how he got a particular sound, or where he lifted a particular sample, is pointless. It's far less taxing on the psyche to groove on the pastiche as a whole; plus, when it comes to those killer facets you're not hearing from other DJs, Mike's not talking.

"I kinda keep that very secret, under wraps. There are certain elements I draw from," he admits with a laugh, "but I can't really release that information, you know what I mean?"

Perhaps Cyklops' most surprising element, apart from the fact that a rock fan can totally get off on it, is its easy sense of cohesion. Though more than half the cuts were culled from various releases, Mike's warm, musical signature runs through all of them, from thick, noisy soundclashes to simple, clever funk.

"If you hear crazy-ass space noise and Moog tones being manipulated ... I've pretty much got my own sound down to a T," he testifies. "I would say (it's) a sonic landscape, with the whole track having an improvisational feel. I'll go into the studio and hit the Record button, and free-flow from that. I'm really a mood-type DJ, so it just depends on the mood."

The inventive sound-bender says he'll be hammering out a brand-new solo release when he gets off of the road, as well as going back to work with both the Skratch Picklz and the Beasties, who are finally getting around to their next opus. But first he's got to get through several more weeks of the GNR tour, and while some DJs might be ready to throw in the towel after a night or two of such an experiment, Mixmaster Mike is thoroughly enjoying the live-rock experience.

"Most definitely. Lights, big-screen projectors and two turntables and a microphone," he laughs. "And big-ass speakers."

Music critic Scott Harrell can be reached at 813-248-8888, ext. 109, or by e-mail at [email protected].

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