Notes From a Fanboy

I've been known to draw attention to the geeked-out behavior of others, both on this blog and in my everyday life. It's fun to stumble across the enthusiasm of others and smirk a little bit, and I've certainly done my fair share of that, whether it's some random guy dressed up like a Tron action figure or my own wife at a Star Trek convention. But this is not to suggest I don't have my own dorkish fanboy tendencies, and in the spirit of democracy, I'm going to offer up a painstaking (and painful) step-by-step walk of shame through my own recently completed private project - the DJ Shadow 4-Track Era Bundle keepbox.

Some months ago, I came across an enthusiastic and well-written review on Pitchfork for a 4-disc box set containing the early works and mixes of the great DJ Shadow, including entire sets from his Bay Area radio station KMEL guest mixes. The review made a compelling case for this limited-release set as a major addition to Shadow discography, as well as a precious insight into Josh Davis' growth as an artist. Trouble was, the set was nearly impossible to find. Tossed out among his rabid fan base with a printing of only 200 sets, the box went out of print almost immediately and began fetching ridiculously high prices from online retailers.

There are other ways, of course, to get one's hands on rare items, and so I found myself with 4 discs filled with the set's music. The trouble is, I'm finding it harder and harder to rest easy with music isolated from some sort of physical and aesthetic presentation - the music file and iPod track just doesn't give me the same jolt. As I also find myself drawn more and more to the handcrafted, the unique and the personal, I decided to set about creating my own little container to house the discs in - to craft a personal and one-of-a-kind vessel, made from detritus and household items. I decided to geek out.

Step one was to find a container. I haunted a few Ocean Beach antique stores before finding a classy wooden Leon Jimenes cigar box from the Dominican Republic.




Leaving the box front free of any markings, I set about lettering a tiny label for the back. One cramped-hand session later, I came up with this noble attempt at setting down a unique cartoonish font.

I glued the original Pitchfork review to the inside compartments of the box - liner notes being a must for box sets these days.

I then outsourced the skills of my wife, who pulled out her vintage Singer sewing machine and produced two gorgeous sleeves, each with a dual pocket inside.

The discs easily slipped inside (one can see my creativity ended with the discs themselves - plain Fuji fronts they will remain), and a sturdy track listing for each disc went in front, also in cartoon font.

And the finished product - a limited-edition-of-one reclaimed cigar box with handcrafted fabric sleeves.

Part of my justification for such an absurdly overblown project is a desire to continually opt for creative methods over product consumption. Another is the belief that far too few households contain handmade objets d'art. And a final reason is DJ Shadow's own fascination with the tossed aside, the one-off, the culturally unique. With one of his finest albums named The Private Press, in reference to individually-released, non-record company albums (particularly home-pressed records of family greetings), I hope that Mr. Davis would feel that my act of piracy and co-optation was in the spirit of his adventures on the wheels of steel.

So, have at me, folks. My fanboy tendencies are hereby offered into the public record.