Stickydisc Records

I've been gushing out of every orifice about the Stickydisc camp ever since I stumbled across Babytalk’s Chance 12”. Babytalk is Eric Broucek, DFA right hand man and former touring member of the Juan MacLean. Partnered with Morgan Wiley, Hercules and Love Affair keyboardist, Babytalk becomes Watussi (hopefully a Cluster reference), to round out the Stickydisc roster. Almost more importantly, is that Eric’s little brother Ian was a classmate of mine at Westwood Charter School here in West LA. I grew up around the corner from the school and we all used to go trick or treating together as kids. As we got older we egged teachers houses and jacked little kids for their overflowing pillowcases of starbursts and milk duds. Their dad was a musician and did the DJing / MCing at the Halloween Hoot annual carnival for the school, his booming voice audible from my backyard. I should have known the kid was destined for stardom. A decade and a half later Eric’s in Brooklyn working alongside James Murphy, the top Don of the scene. I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.

It started a few months back when I was DJing a party. I bumped into this kid who was a friend of a friend and we started playing the “Do you know so-and-so” six degrees of separation game and ended up on Eric’s name. This brought up DFA, from which we clicked over the new Syclops album. He told me to look out for Babytalk. I didn’t think much of it, but stored away the name in the mental musical Rolodex. A couple months later, I’m at Amoeba in the Misc. B section and I see the Stickydisc print for the first time. There it was: green black and tan tribal triangle zigzag. If I had any doubts, the Hercules remix cred cast them aside. It is truly one of the purest moments in life when you lay a record that you’ve never heard before down on the platter for its first play. This instance in particular was purer than most. The seed that was planted months ago had finally broken its stalk through the thick dirt. A baby was born.

It’s funny how, as a DJ, I feel like I actually had a part in the creation of the music I play by unearthing it. I guess it’s a way of rationalizing my addiction to consumerism. If I didn’t buy that record, would anyone ever hear it? Well, it’s very egocentric to think that the answer to the question would be anything resembling a “no.” But, in a way, I almost depend on that train of thought to push me forward in my pursuit of progressive tunes.

I opened my radio show a few weeks ago with Watussi’s “If All We Had Was Love” track and a couple hours later I just couldn’t resist playing a Babytalk track. Some guy called in during the Babytalk, blown away, asking what it was and where he could find it. He said he was out of his car for the past couple hours and had just returned to be greeted by the song, but he had heard (what he thought was) the last DJ play another track hours ago that really stood out. After a general description, I realized it was the Watussi track he was speaking of. Those were the only two songs he had heard and he had no clue they were the same artist. The stars were properly aligned for him, and it gave me the reassurance I needed. My zealous worship was not in vain.

A description of the Stickydisc sound came to me in a dream. You’re driving up a hill that gets steeper and steeper as you ascend. Eventually you are completely vertical rushing full speed ahead. The hill ends and you are thrust into the ether. Once you clear the first cloud you launch through a portal. You enter a world of throbbing colors, vibrant to the point that they blur all vision. Engulfed by the light waves you pulse as they do, lacking all control. You lose concepts of time and space and just ARE. The seasons change around you, but you are none the wiser. There are no calendars here. It is a stable realm that exists by chance. But you are there for a reason.

“Rising higher as we get down.”

In more real terms, Stickydisc is unreal. It’s a cosmic sorcery of sultry synth work, horny horn huffs and a healthy helping of snaps, kicks and claps. The seven or eight minute frame that surrounds each track can barely contain most excursions. They build up and break down midcourse, only to swell and bulge again like unrelenting love muscles. Never is a nano wasted. Subdued voices mingle amidst the madness with poignant nuggets of (un)conscious thought that burrow their way into brains like the best of earwigs.

Good luck getting them out!


Buy the vinyl here

and check these tracks

Babytalk - Chance

Watussi - If All We Had Was Love