Sound Lesson: Pilooski the Sonic Editor

The art of re-editing songs comes with many dangers. The craft demands not only enough skill to conjure up an innovative song that pushes music forward but also the mastery to match if not surpass the quality of the original track. The re-editor must breathe life into dusty bones. He faces the challenge to make the old sound new.

Paris based DJ, Pilooski, who also is known by his Polish name Cedric Marszewskihas, achieveds just this pinnacle style of re-editing shelved classics into body rocking dance party jams. Last year Pilooski gained international recognition in nerdy DJ / blog communities for his re-edit of "Beggin'," a pop hit dating back to New Jersey's legendary Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.



Pilooski cleanly cuts up the guitars of ESG's "UFO" (does any ESG sample not sound amazing?) with a boom bap drum break that propels the vocals into hyperspeed and defy sonic laws by sounding damn smooth if not James Brown soulful. "Beggin' " is one of those tracks that reaches toward the sweaty, adrenaline rushed climax of the party when everyone is wildly dripping the music.

The flipped up video of Beggin' succeeds just as well in resurrecting the dead with some new superpowers.



Part of Pilooski's genius is that he reaps forgotten or neglected elements out of older joints that were never gilded the status as classics. These songs have not been dogmatically hardened into our collective minds by their incessant replay on nostalgiac compilation albums seen on late night infomercials or kitschy diners or oldies radio stations.

Pilooski's proud defiance of codified genres and exceptional digging powers opens up an overflowing reservoir of history to inform his ever growing taste. Listen to how Pilooski transforms the powerful croons of Nina Simone into a slammin' dance thumper in his newly released remix of "Take Care of Business" on the 4th Verve remixed compilation.

Many of Pilooski's edits (and he has many) can be found on the rare and highly sought after limited vinyl releases by Dirty Sound System. Dirty is a group of Parisian selectors that pride themselves on comin' up with the dusty diamonds that inspire and break expectations. These tracks are released with some edits (by the likes of Pilooski) on compilations that fittingly go by the name "Dirty Diamonds." From ominous space disco to thumping krautrock drum breaks, cruising past the euphoric Balearic islands to the syncopated gardens of Northern Soul, dirty does not fear geographical or psychological walls.

Following the numerous "Dirty Diamonds" EPs came a full length Pilooski compilation, dirty edits vol. 1. It also includes a couple surprising covers that will bend your ears backwards.


01 . Mono Puff - Pretty Fly
02 . 99 Frames For Prince - 1999
03 . Alan Parsons Project, The - I Robot (Pilooski edit)
04 . Edwin Starr - Get Up (Pilooski edit)
05 . Pointer Sisters - Send Him Back (Pilooski edit)
06 . Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gorme - Black Hole Sun (Dirty Reissue)
07 . Unknown - Untitled
08 . Ari Boulogne - Le Petit Chevalier
09 . Can - Mothersky (Pilooski edit)
10 . The Human Beinz - Nobody But Me (Pilooski edit)
11 . Pipilotti Rist - I'm A Victim Of This Song (Wicked Game)

Download part 1.
Download part 2.

The Digger

As a music lover with a knack for history, I love to dig. Unfortunately, when I dig into my pockets all I come up with is lint, which makes my visits to the expensive record collections in the Bay nearly null. Maybe one day I will get paid in full, or perhaps I will find a second hand record shop in San Francisco that rivals this one I stumbled upon in Brooklyn.


I typically experience an acute sense of shame that racks my whole body whenever I make a monetary transaction. I feel ridiculous receiving a service from a stranger for the exchange of some printed rectangular paper and stamped metal coins. What the hell do I need these things for, and why do these official papers give me such strange powers of commanding? Maybe I should go back home, anonymously buy some music on my internet, and hide my shame in a neatly swept corner of my bedroom. But alas, I am drawn into the labyrinth.


The caked on layers of history on a record sleeve lighten the load on my shoulders. They bring to mind mystical stories of previous owners - discarding Minnie Ripperton's crooning love joints after a horrible break up, letting go that Demon Fuzz funky psych in hopes of becoming a more 'serious' professional, or trading in that James Brown "Funky Drummer" making those last couple bones for another kind of music, crack - somehow the object gains a pummeling spiritual intensity.


My shame levels off into a muted ache in my stomach - I suddenly don't feel so alienated anymore. The imaginative journey applies its medicative ointments to my pathetic capitalist woes.


And so deep within the dusty tombs loom the many hallways and caverns of towering records, toppling over their sarcophagi milk crates, edging in on me from all sides. The ghostly stories grow louder and louder, shouting in my ears, booming with the energy of lives past and memories forgotten, waiting impatiently to be resurrected by the godly hands of the digger. The digger undertakes the responsibility of becoming the overtaker. We do not dig to bury but rather for the overpowering joy of bringing back! Will they find their final funeral oration through the swift shifting of my fingertips or be given a second chance at life by a sweeping grab?


Such is what is at stake for the digger.