I remember playing this proto deep house dub side at a club in Montreal a few years ago. I dropped the track early in the set, trying to feel the crowd, when a local party goer pushed his way up to the DJ booth and tried to get my attention, my vanity led me to assume he wished to find the name of this 1986 dollar bin classic, but instead it turned out that he wanted to share some friendly advice that went something along the lines that perhaps DJ'ing wasn't the best choice of career for me and maybe I should consider doing something else. It was clear to him that I wasn't very good and it could only have been a case of miscommunication or mistaken identity that had brought me to be playing dubby garage records at his techno nightclub.  He had a sincere expression on his face, as though he were just trying to save me some wasted years and as such I took his freely given wisdom to heart. 

 Every time I hear something by New York salsa trombonist Willie Colon, which is now and again, I think back to those scathing remarks made to me and how perhaps one man's comment undermined my confidence and prevented me from quitting my video game industry job to follow my true passion and become a full time boogie record cataloging blogspot page editor. I could have been burning CD-r's with looped up edits of this or that, travelling a little bit, seeing America.