the un-authorised, un-official story

"i'm sick of it, please, no more phonecalls..i can't afford myself doing so much work for such little output!" - anonymous record-company spokeswoman.

it's been almost three years in the making, it took one record company employee more than six months of hard labour, 865 e-mails, 160 faxes and hundreds of phone calls to contact over 45 major and independent record-companies.
a total amount of 187 different tracks were involved from which 114 got approved, 62 refused and 11 were un-trackable.
it caused massive headaches and sweaty palms to employees of 'clearance centres' and record companies all over the world.
but it's finally here. it's about 62 minutes long and there's 45 (or is that 46?) tracks on it.
it took seven long days and nights to cut, edit, mix and re-edit it all together and it fucking rocks!

ladies and gentlemen, two - many - deejays!

to be honest, nobody ever thought it was going to happen.
it was clear from the beginning that some of the tracks they (stephen and david) wanted to use were very hard to get. some record-company executives probably thought this was going to be easy money involving minimal costs and a big output. but it turned out otherwise.
most people are probably expecting a record that's fit to be played in clubs, trendy bars or edgy urban clothes-shops. those people are going to be disappointed. and if you're expecting a typical 'rockband-who-are-into-dance-music' routine, you might as well start looking for your stub.
this is not - i repeat, not - your average 'jump-the-bandwagon-and-make-some-money-on-the-way'-compilation.

if you ask me there's a certain grandmaster flash-approach to the whole album. 'cause what the grand master did was nothing more than take all his favourite bits from his favourite records and put them together to create something new and special. the same thing is happening here. only, flash did it with a crew passing him his records and stephen and david did it on a mac g3.
so beware, if you just go by the looks of the tracklist, you are bound to expect something completely different than what you eventually will hear. you've been warned.

but it doesn't run all too smoothly if you try to do something different. you have to prepare yourself for the long and winding road that runs through the jungle that is known as 'the record industry'
in these post-modern times of illegal mp3's and white label bootlegs it is all too easy to think you can get away with anything. you can't.
never forget that everyone wants a piece of the cake. and watch out if they don't want to be in the dough at all.
if you want to include somebody's music on a release of your own you've got to get permission from the owner of the 'master tapes', which usually is the artist's record company.
depending on the contract the artist has with the company, they've got to ask his/her permission as well. this process is known as 'licensing' or, in record-company talk, 'clearing' the copyrights.

'no problemo,' i hear the amateur-deejay inside you think. 'who wouldn't like to be included in my supa-dupa deejay-mix that definitely is going to be a big success 'cause all my mates say it's great?'
well, some bands or singers aren't too keen on 'lending out' their songs for other people's use. and that philosophy is not always coming from a corner you might expect.
a certain very well known hip-hop trio from new york, for instance, who once encountered some copyright-lawsuits of their own, will never, ever license one of their tracks for any compilation.
mostly this has to do with maintaining the 'exclusivity' of their tracks or in other words they're saying: 'if you want to hear my songs, buy the frickin' album'

to give you an even better peek at the international world of record-company bonanza, there's the 'track-by-track' commentary that includes footnotes from both stephen and david themselves and some anonymous record-company 'officials'

"I want a final 'read and approved' on this text and your not going to be a hard case about that!" - anonymous management person