If this paragraph survives the cold and didactic hand of editing, I will speak to you the way I've always meant to speak: Honestly and candidly. And if that doesn't make for good blogging, then I'm in the wrong business.
For all the arguments one can make about South Florida being some sort of cultural asshole to the United States, I will always posit with the following: We live in exciting musical times down here and my humble Blast from the Past columns make a wholesome attempt at proving that these times have been happening for a long time, across genres and multiple cultures within our tri-county area.
Most of you (all three of you) should know by now that I've always tried to champion the contributions of the great state of Florida. Firmly entrenched in what I know best, I always play up the jazz, the punk, the homegrown hip-hop, and any other non-top 40 musicks occurring here. I also always make a point of noting how relatively young I am to this scene. But I am always happy to be involved and humbled to be a part of it.
Which leads us to today's BFTP: The almighty-motherfucking Powerhouse.
