Monk and Miles understood midnight, the shape of it. It is an imprecise thing. Don't attempt to pin it down. Make daytime plans at precise times, but at night say: "round about midnight."
Under the cover of dark, among the long shadows thrown by streetlamps and streetlights, once stable things become shifty and wild. The mind bends rules. The hours bloat with potential. The shadows fill with possibility.
This is where midnight logic comes into play. There is no clarity, no precision. You might think you know something, but your thinking—like night vision—is fuzzy, diffuse.
The end of a long day is cause for celebration. There's drink, of course, and there's smoke—but sometimes all it takes is a thought, a feeling, or fatigue itself to set us apart from our daily selves, the people we spend so much of our life being. Night is the time when we are least self-conscious, when we are most within ourselves. Spontaneity and improvisation love midnight.
This episode—Midnight Logic—came together spontaneously one restless night in Minneapolis, just after 12 a.m., when there was little else happening to hold my attention. It's a very deep mix, with a Detroit edge that I seldom explore in my sets. It features a lot of classics (by DJ Gregory, Metro Area, Jazzanova, Charles Webster, Moodymann and Norma Jean Bell) but some then-new stuff as well (for instance Mike Huckaby's "Fantasy," a gorgeous slice of midnight off the "My Life with the Wave" EP). I hope you enjoy it.