“Calm down, Craig. How are you?” I asked“Pretty good. What’s on your mind?”“Call me some time when you aren’t so drunk. And when you ...ren’t so obviously trying to get into a girl’s pants.”I bought us a round of shots, Jameson. We downed the shots and I paid my tab.“You can’t leave without letting me buy you a drink!” Craig practically yelled. “Have a beer on me!”Our friends all joined in teasing me. What the hell. I ended up staying far too late and drinking far too much, finally. Psychlone was one of the top hundred or so dance producers in the world. His music was rocking the decks from Lhasa to Reykjavik, from Pyongyang to Sao Paolo, and from Exeter where it was produced to Beijing where his revenue stream was calculated, subdivided and redistributed. It might be pitifully small but at least Psychlone was able to make a living from his art. It was all conceived and generated on his laptop where only thirty years before the sounds he created would have taken the. More

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