smalltown with David August & John Tejada

smalltown with David August & John Tejada

22nd November 2013

Brown Alley


The Dame on the fifth floor is stuck in her chair.

My stomach has a thudding heartbeat when I am in front of her.

She leans on a black and swollen elbow.

She sprouts a crown of purple and white cauliflower.

My hands burn hot.

I can’t concentrate and my conversation st…stuh…stutters.

She nearly has what she is looking for.

She loses it regularly whilst pulling on a slack tooth.

She is relieved when,

I tell her.

I am not single.

She likes to count the gentle, black souls in the building.

She says there are a terrible few.

I smile when she points out I need to go to bed.

I wonder if my lover will let me in, this time.

We listen to the man screaming in Italian next door.

I leave a note for the next visitor.

I tell them to fix the brake.

So she doesn’t fall.


smalltown Est. 2011




An artist will title their works to either reflect the moment of conception or confuse our own righteous interpretation. It is often in regards to what they were feeling, and where they saw themselves then. Times, the first album for David August, is a simple nod to the here and now for the young Prince of Hamburg. A more or less definite period of time of the music he created and without other connotations (unless August is referencing the times table from Grundschule days). If only we were young, frivolous and musically gifted.

For everyone else, Times has been the electro fantasia to your keen dreams of the summer coming. Or at least one of many quality curated albums we have been gifted this year by electronic artists. Times is easily comparable to JaarSpace is Only Noise, but thats a give away. What upcoming, classically trained someone, wouldnt take a page out of Jaars book? The glary mahogany horns and robust beats are recognisable but belong to a sea of instruments August explores.  His album is sunnier, melodic and generous alike a house version of Toro Y Moi. It lengthens your attention around long, winding corners. August has worked hard.

Maybe you only know David August from his 2010 anthem days — the cocky Moving Day single or nimble Instant Harmony.  Nevertheless, you need to see this guy in action come Friday night. He truly is a treat. 

If you want to listen to the remix of the Postal Services Such Great Heights, by John Tejada on you tube, you will be lucky enough to find a homemade montage of BMW Z8s lovingly accompanying the track. If you are wondering why, its because cars are awesome and fuck you, thats why (so claims user SK8a43 in capitals).  At least the video has the same attention to detail as a mohair knit might, tastefully covered in knitted mice, crawling over the torso. We dont understand why it was made but somebody somewhere was inspired.

John Tejada has had a busy year, not satisfied with pictures of high performance cars he reconnected with classically trained guitarist, Takeshi Nishimoto, to release the digital EP Subtones, under the guise I am Not a Gun, in March. Following, his twelve inch Somewhere, was released on Kompakt and in August John released  Anaphora on his is own label, Palette Recordings

Tejadas musical and interracial ancestry is a flare into his creative interests and Austrian dark swept locks. He is applauded for his electronic reliability and his 2012 release, The Predicting Machine,' rightly predicted his patient style, albeit this album was credited as being a little wilder than the last eight.

The fourteen-year-old collaboration I am Not a Gun is appreciated in a smaller circle. Artistically it is almost opposite to Tejadas solo releases; Nishimotos melodic guitar is gently framed by Tejadas electronic production. The result is an unexpected synergy between classical training, expressive rock and synthetic vs. non-synthetic rhythm. If it doesn't serve you musically it definitely serves the makers. 

You could say Tejada is the good guy in the industry, committed to making his music and steering clear of the trends. We say Tejada is too busy working hard, perfecting what he knows and expanding his appetite. 

Some music is for adults.