My Post-Indian Technological Autobiography

It’s February 2003, and I’m diggin’ through a dusty stack of vinyl at the local Salvation Army somewhere on the West coast of Turtle Island. I go hunting for records at these kinds of places anytime I can, always searching for something different and unique that I can sample and remix into my live dj sets. I zero in on the 25-cent bin — usually the best place to find that obscure sonic material that I’m searching for — and quickly pore through the warped and mangled copies of Willie Nelson, Rita McNeil, and Barbra Streisand records. I pass over one of