It's hard to get people at a record company to talk about music. They don't seem to want to talk about music, it's all marketing, and that's part of a record, you gotta get it out there, people have gotta hear it, but you could do it in a way that's not repulsive.
Every single record I have is a fossil.
I have been an XL fan of Devo since I was in high school in the 1970s. Their records only sound better with time.
My laptop seems to know where I am, even if I don't. My cellphone asks me if I want directions to anywhere from the spot I am standing in. I buy a record online and Amazon.com sends me letters, telling me that people who bought what I bought also bought these other records.
The Ninja, as you know, operates by stealth. And so, case in point: I put out records... no one hears them! I make videos... (whispers) no one sees! I go on tour.... (whispers) no one knows! NINJA! I was never here!
I have been listening to the Stooges' self-titled first album for well over half my life, and it remains one of the most exciting and essential records I have ever had the good fortune to come into contact with.
People are best on records and books because you can turn them off or put them back on the shelf.
All I can do is just do stuff while I am alive and hopefully that track record will speak for itself.
Collecting records is, for many, beyond a hobby.
There are records that, in my opinion, only reach their full potential when the listener is disoriented.