Month: December 2021

There was a moment during my most recent trip, when the music was over and we were sitting with a friend who had attended with us, and we were talking about how we thought the night went. I eventually brought up the obvious question.

“Did you like it? What did you think?”

My friend then paused, and after a moment said,

“Yeah,” and squinted her eyes a little and did a little shrug, as if to say
It was good, but not great.

And I could tell what she was saying without her even completely saying it.

She was saying it was good enough to dance to, but not life changing, and although, she didn’t say all of that I could tell she was hesitant to admit it, since she knew the music was life changing to me at one point. She didn’t want to offend but she also wanted to be honest. Then she began to say something that stood out to me more than any song I heard all weekend.

“It’s sort of like in the Midwest every town has a different sound. Like with punk rock. Everywhere you go, it’s gonna sound different. For me it’s happy hardcore. For you it’s this.”

Sometimes, over the course of these long nights and wild times, in the thick of the madness, a person will say something, and you will know it’s true, and that it’s been said before, but never had it been so obviously applied to real life, like it was doing right now.

In one statement, this person revealed two things to me immediately. First, they didn’t like it as much as I did, but then again, they just didn’t have to. We put so much pressure on ourselves and each other to make a perfect night and a perfect moment that we forget the possibility that sometimes these moments aren’t special because we’re all fucked up and falling all over the music, sometimes they’re special because we are there for each other.

I could tell this friend was there for us, and she could have been anywhere else, and still she chose to go and hear music we wanted. I know there were other reasons for her being there, but us being there at least helped her decision one way or the other, and we knew that.

Second, was that she wanted to be honest. She was more committed to telling me the truth than she was in being my friend, and yet she didn’t want to offend or insult. There was a balance at play and I could see it, even if just with her words.

Which is a huge lesson on friendship I’ve learned this year. A balance of honesty and respect. I suppose I knew it before, but never did I see it so strongly as I do now. Their honest opinion is why they are my friends. Regardless of style or sound.

We’d stay there talking in her basement for a bit, then we’d go upstairs and watch cartoons till the sunrise, and then we’d agree to finally give in and go to sleep. Kind of the standard with our friends. Just hang out until we can’t hang out anymore. That’s all you’ll ever need sometimes. Both from the music and each other.

My personal opinion was that I loved the music. It was deep, and it built up, and covered many sounds, and styles, and even generations. A top of the line night musically for me, but then again, the important phrase in that was, ‘for me.’

It was impactful for me because it was music I found. I don’t believe I know anybody else who loves this type of music or these djs as much as I do, and yet the older I get I realize it’s more of a choice than a skill. We at times seem to measure our music tastes against each others, as if it’s a competition, and yet by doing so we remove the most humane aspect of music itself. No one sound is better, just different, and each has evolved because of the commitment and care of those involved. Their love for their sound is what makes it their sound. Who am I to say it isn’t?

I feel this lesson our friend taught me early that Sunday morning in Denver Colorado was perhaps the final lesson I was meant to learn in this crazy year where we traveled more than ever in our lives. 12 trips for 12 months and each one changed us the same way a dj changes their setlist with every stop they make on their tour. Why else would we be seeing them again after all these years if they aren’t showing their growth as well? What would be the point? I suppose the same goes for my friends too.

For every trip we’ve taken we’ve equally had just as many honest moments with people out there that we’ve met. It’s always been like that, but normally it used to be with strangers. Now in 2021 it was with friends this time . People we connected with before the quarantine, who we’re now meeting again as different people with varying paths. Who knows where each of our paths leads next, and yet here we still are. We may never see people we spent this year with ever again, and yet we know deep down that what we had was enough for that moment and that place.

That’s why their willingness to hear my sound has become so valuable these days, and also why I’d love to give the favor back. Because of that I’d love to start asking people to share their musical taste with me In the way you would sit with a friend and reveal these mysteries of your past. What makes you You? Musically, at least.

My commitment in 2022 will be to combine my ability to interview with my love for hearing the musical side of those I cherish. I wish for it to be my way of giving back to the people who allowed 2021 to happen for my Panda and I, by giving them a chance to share the music they love most. Their moment to control our dancefloor.

I would very much like to have this in a comfortable environment with others involved to share their opinions on what is played and to make sure it is still a party, but the one person selected will be in charge of the music all night, and the focus should not be as a dj, although, I would love for djs to take part too.

In a way, it’s time for us all to show the ability to control the sound ourselves, while also being allowed the chance to lend a voice to the stories it has made for you.

This is a chance for us all to return to the source of where the music made us fall in love, both with the sounds, and with each other. As a respected dj told me earlier this year when we were listening to Doc Martin,

“Give people 20 songs and they’re all gonna mix them different. Everybody has their own touch. It’s like Jackson Pollock and painting. Everybody’s gonna do it different.”

I value every moment a person has shared with me this year, not only when they were willing to come hear my sound, and my story, but also when they were willing to share theirs. Are you ready to share?

If you are interested in taking part please message us or send an email to Sandoproject20@gmail.com.

I hope to hear from you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

When I was younger, maybe 11 or 12, I began to dream of the open road. And not as much the destinations the road would lead me too, but rather the road itself. It was a constant never ending place I found to be real the more I closed my eyes and became a part of it. It even got to the point where I didn’t even have to be asleep to see it anymore. Id usually just lay there in my bed, the top bunk, always the top bunk, as my brother, the cool one, snored just like all Gallegos men do, and I’d just space out laying there for hours that felt like minutes.

Always white noise first. No sounds. No birds. No prairie dogs. No trees. No cars. No weird gas stations by the side of the road. Nothing. Just dead empty air, but with a subtle little after taste. Like a root bear float. I should probably get one of those after this.

Anyways, after the dead white empty noise, it’s just a road. For miles and miles and miles. Sort of like a siren, but with the sirens you’d get there and they’d eat you. This didn’t have that feel of enchantment. It felt real. Almost like a portal to that moment in time I wasn’t at yet. A connection between me then and me now. I truly believed that then, and I know it to be true now, as crazy as that sounds.There are even times when we’re somewhere on the road now, and I am not the one driving cause sometimes I like to give that power up, but not very often, and the music will be slow, or maybe we’ll just have no sound at all. And I’ll look out the window and I’ll see the sky, and for a second, there’s a flicker of light. A moment in time where I witnessed the atmosphere around me change. Sort of like a snapshot. Just pop. Pop pop.

“There’s something up there.” I’d think.

But really, I knew right away I couldn’t describe it. I just knew it happened, and I was the only one to see it. I suppose it could’ve all been in my head, and it could still be there, but I don’t think it works like that.

The more it happens the more I see clearly that it is a portal from my younger self to me now, and he’s seeing where I am, and the beautiful woman I’m with, and he’s seeing that I’m okay. That, for the most part, I got to where I needed to. And although it only happens when I’m on the road and not here, at home, I can feel that moment from my past when the connection was made. I can feel when it was real. But only on the road. And I don’t think it’s ever going to change.

But as each time happens, and I have trouble finding a way to explain this occurrence to my love, who is always the one driving when this happens, I realize one day I won’t be the old man on the road anymore. And when that happens what will my younger self see? Will he see anything at all. I suppose I remember a moment where that dream stopped happening, although, I always assumed it was because I started out on the road. So it wasn’t a dream anymore.

But now I look back and I realize that maybe I wasn’t the only one looking for a sign. And maybe I’m not the only one sending them. Maybe I wasn’t seeing flickers in the sky from myself, but rather from those old ones who came before me. The ones who knew the road before I ever could. The fools of the highway. For all this time I’ve been thinking it was only me, I forgot that there’s an entire world out there of people who see the road when they close their eyes too.

So, because of that, I’ve learned that my job isn’t to send the signals to myself anymore, clearly he got the message, but rather now, it’s to send it out to others, so one day they can say they saw the signs too. And if they’re smart, they’ll hear my words, and believe them to be true.

When you’re the old man, tired from the road, more tired than you look, you’re gonna wanna send a word, or an image, or even a melody, depending on your choice. and when you do, make sure its the right one. the one that says its okay to be kind, or generous, or honest, or even grateful. in fact, be grateful a lot. share that idea with others. and trust it because one day somebody shared it with you. ill see you out there some time, but maybe as just a flicker in the sky.

You see what I mean?

❤️❤️❤️❤️