Bob Albatross and I, Jack Colt, decided to inflate the already gargantuan challenge by leaving the proceedings of the evening entirely in Fortuna’s tender hands. Dialectically, we of course trusted whatever the vicious trollop of fate would put in ours. A feat which, without a doubt, would have catapulted us to the very summit of the electronic music press if we had not already conquered it. The view is nice from the top, and Fortuna’s ovaries are kind.

What happened? It ended like this: I woke up on January 1st at 8:56:27am to the sound of a very groggy Mr. C, with no interviews, a tremendous difficulty to walk or see, no recollection of the night, and no sign of the FTVS editorial team. A careful analysis of the meta-data from the digital photographs in the FTVS camera allowed me to aggregate a foggy picture of fragmented and nonexistent memories.

What I, Jack Colt, remember is that by 11:30:00pm the old Eezer was running strong on the Rooftop, too strong maybe.

11:39:43pm — I had lost sight of the FTVS team and began taking pictures of strangers in the lobby of the hotel. I remember vaguely taking a picture of a group of perhaps negro people, possiblly led by FTVS adversary Sean Combs, who subsequently forced me to delete the precious photographs. I complied promptly, resistance was futile.

11:47:10pm — After wrestling my way into the elevator I ascended once more to the top of the building. Lee Foss was playing casually yet precisely, dogging the constant sexual assaults of a floc of female individuals who just so happened to correspond quite perfectly to my target demographic. I acted as if an old friend of Lee Foss, to maximize the chances of seizing a nasty that would surely be left in Lee’s wake. Certainly, I would jubiliantly settle for his sloppy seconds, if not fifths or sixths.

11:49:18pm — Perhaps I had found refuge in one water-bedded red capsule near the pool with a female matching my own level of intoxication. I might have accidentally roofied my own drink at this moment. This explained the simultaneous disappearance of the woman and my own ontology. The pleasure, was quite literally, mine alone.

11:55:36pm — A set of perfectly shaped and adequately unwrapped female buttocks attracted my photographic attention. No sign of the aforementioned red-capsule.

12:04:22am — The magnificent Richard West arrives and relieves Mr. Foss of his disque jockeying duty. He is refined, sublime, and is wearing some very fashionable boots. Mr. C is calm, sporting a grin that suggests he has DJed before, and perhaps been harassed by self-roofied French expats heavily intoxicated on rice wine (me, Jack Colt).

12:42:32am — In less than forty minutes, I had shot ninety six (96) pictures of Mr. C at close range and decided to accomplish yet another photographic first by diving under the decks with him and taking his portrait. The smile remains on the extraordinary fellow. It is, quite simply, impossible to perturb this gentle giant.

01:23:01am — Smile down. Trouble is lurking. The atmosphere becomes heinous.

01:24:00am — The Standard Security squadron attempts to shut down the party. A very valorous and fierce Andrei Osyka faces the oppressor alone, explaining The Shamen cannot be disturbed once the party starts rocking. Lee Foss arrives in an effort to rescue him using his charm to appeased the explosive situation. The Security is strong.

01:24:11am — The battle that seemed to last an eternity was now irrevocably lost. The Chelsea Boy refuses to leave the sinking decks and plays until the end. We are now escorted to the elevator. I am caught in the flow. I decide to follow the group to Room 1048. I remember asking something to Lee Foss to which he responded: “It was a rough year.” Why? I wondered. Perhaps the FTVS interview had put on to much weight on the young man’s shoulders.

03:26:10am — The Shamen is touching the very tactile screen of an iPhone connected to the room’s iPod dock (a feat former FTVS Editor Kip Penn would not have succeeded with). Someone offers me a small amount of white powder on the tip of a key which I failed to refuse and later assessed to be horse tranquilizer. The music must be playing in the room, but my basic motor skills deteriorate fast. Only my left hand is able to keep up with the far sounding beat.

09:33:47am — I am at the Westin Bonaventure, Red Tower, waiting for the very same elevator that carried our good governor and his horse in James Cameron’s pre-Avatar masterpiece. But why? How did I manage to cross Flower street? I look for Bob by the poolside, but he is likely resting his phallus in a wet hole in the dark. The last six (6) hours are absurd, if not completely professional. I must rest. Three (3) hours hopefully. It must commence again on New Year’s Day. 2010 demands it of me.

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If only FTVS had the red shine.

–

God damn it readers, the holiday season left FTVS showered in gifts and golden liquid.

As world media outlets reported, FTVS headquartered herself at the Standard Hotel’s Rooftop Bar in Downtown LA on the New Year Evening and New Year Day to sample the offerings of the Culprit family. This sequence of events, extending over thirty-six (36) hours, was certainly the musical and celebratory equivalent to an evening long mouthparty.

The evening at this protruding Angelean structure in the heart of Los Angeles saw FTVS vigorously yet not quite vaginally indulge in a reunion with Mr. C, and of course converse with Mr. Zamias about the progeny of robust facial hair and sweetbaby mustache rides (though neither party remembers). Simultaneously, FTVS did her best not to spill drinks on Lee Foss‘ CDJs. Perhaps most importantly, FTVS was able to conclude that Mr. Andrei Osyka is decisively the most gentlemanly of all gentlemen. His cohort, Mr. Justin Sloe, comes in a close second, lacking only in gallant tenderness and blue eyes. The jury is still out on the third Droog.

Actual photographs and footage shot under the direction of Jack Colt documenting the aforementioned festivities have been confiscated by the Department of Justice. Johnny Cochran is working for FTVS to recover groundbreakingly incriminating materials. Incisive coverage will be revealed in the days to come, once prudence has been revivified. Understand this, you cuntish fiends: FTVS celebrated with extreme prejudice, and did not, as always, forget to not use condoms.

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FTVS favorite Lee Foss is surely the most handsome DJ/producer in the world. He also probably makes sex with women that are maybe only imaginary because they are so attractive and penis hemorrhaging.

In addition, Lee produces very good music with FTVS intern Jamie Jones under the guise of Hot Natured, is an integral artist on the Droog boys’ label Culprit (upon which his new EP The Edge is being released), and helps organize tautologically raucous parties that wreak havoc across Los Angeles each spring and summer.

Let us commence.

Hello Lee. Careful research revealed that a) FTVS readers prefer to read bout sex-related stories, and b) Los Angeles residents engage in more group sex every year than the average American. How did your group sex consumption change after relocating to LA from Chicago?

Ha, not only has my group sex consumption not increased, my overall sex consumption has recently decreased from one to zero.

Jamie Jones and your good self, the two parts of Hot Natured‘s sexual whole, share wondrous hair with a harmonious hairline and no signs of recession. Was this uncanny and almost impossible similarity what attracted you to one another to produce music? Will you two launch a Hot Natured line of gel?

The funny thing he is always accusing me of starting to lose my hair, so I guess this is one less joke he can make.

It enrages FTVS (and its readers) that your life is most probably not unlike an American Apparel advertisement shot and curated by Dov Charney. Is your reality comprised of anything other than sun-drenched house and techno, and frolicking  geometrically-attentive sweet babies?

I suppose I can say that my life is definitely filled with sun drenched house and techno, it could probably use a few more American Apparel models but whose couldn’t?  Though to be fair I think my friends and I hang out with some pretty cool girls who are attractive and frolic regularly, not sure how attentive they are.

FTVS could not but notice the MKS/MPG-80 on your MySpace. How essential is this item in cooking up a robust batch of duck butter? What other hardware does your palate prefer?

Yeah I really like the MKS-80, it’s definitely been used quite a bit on  my upcoming releases and album, though to be honest it’s been out of commission a few times this year.  Been spending way too much money repairing old Roland synths!  I use that Roland MKS-80, a Roland Juno 106, a Minimoog Voyager, and occasionally a Dave Smith Instruments Prophet 08.  Jamie and I used a Roland Jupiter 8 on one of our forthcoming Hot Natured releases and that’s my favorite synth I’ve used by far, will definitely be picking one of those up down the road. To be honest the Juno 106 gets the most work of my gear.

The bassline on Charmer is gratifyingly potbellied. To what extent can we credit the MKS-80 with consecrating such a rotund sound? FTVS enjoys hearing this one on the Standard Rooftop.

Well glad to hear you like the track, I actually think that particular bass I got out of the Juno, but the MKS-80 does have some great bass sounds.

Another recent survey conducted by Gallop and the FTVS intern squadron indicates most techno producers are Caucasian. Is techno music thus racist, like NASCAR?

I think it is some kind of conspiracy headed by the National Hockey League. My friend Rafeeq once told Lee Curtiss that his basslines are racist, so there could be something to this.

Dear Lee, do not worry. It is almost over. Please follow these instructions. Go to your own MySpace and set Leectric Feel (MGMT re-edit) to the 1:00 mark. Click play and then watch the video pasted below. Describe your emotion. FTVS is reminded of Bill Patrick.

Yeah, me too.

FTVS will throw a party as soon as FTVS musician and editor Jack Colt figures out how to plug his TB-303 into his Toshiba computer (live set). Will you DJ for free (opening DJ for Jack Colt) and provide many hundreds of libidinous gentlewomen? Of course you will. You are so handsome.

How many hundreds of gentlewomen?

Tell us about Lee Foss in 2010.

Hmm 2010 should be really cool.  Have a couple releases on Culprit and Wolf + Lamb to finish 2009, then we have a Hot Natured release on Culprit out the beginning of 2010, then a remix EP, then my debut album comes out on Culprit in early April which I am really excited about.  I’m going to work on a live set for Miami which will be a first for me. Jamie and I will also launch our own label, and continue to to do Hot Natured parties and original material and edits for our label and the other labels we’ve been working with till now.

I’ll probably spend about 1/3 of my time in London next year, and  I’m looking forward to being around my group of friends there, as I haven’t been able to see as much of them as I would have liked the last few years.  I’ll also probably spend a lot of time in NY with the Wolf + Lamb guys, and  I already cant wait for next year’s round of Standard parties in LA and the scene continuing to grow here and Culprit continuing to grow as well.

You’re welcome Lee. About 400 gentlewomen will suffice. FTVS will tenderize them all whilst playing a game of find the fishsticks, to which The Edge EP will undoubtedly serve as a most suitable soundtrack.

[MP3] Hot Natured – Red Light District (Culprit)

Hot Natured – h.e.a.d.s EP (Culprit) [buy it on beatport]

Lee Foss – The Edge (Culprit) [buy it on beatport]

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