Sunshine Jones is the former half of the late and great San Francisco live act, Dubtribe Sound System. Seeing the group through its emergence as house party jam to a tight production clique in the 1990’s (and final show last December), this man has seen a lot of the world, and speaks with wisdom, experience and love. Always pursuing the next challenge, Sunshine tested himself last year, producing ‘Seven Tracks in Seven Days’ as a sacrificial offering to the Temple of House Music. Even better than that, he’s coming here to preach his doctrine in person, with shows scheduled all over the country.
Trawling through his extensive website grounded me on the man’s wholistic approach to music, philosophy and life itself. Part thinker, musician, neo-socialist, visual artist, writer and programmer, I felt myself drawn in by his words, ideals and charmed by the plush samba fusions of his earlier work with Dubtribe. On listening to two tracks from Seven Days, key elements of the Dubtribe sound remain. ‘I Surrender’ is a plush, and spacious bass-synth and electric piano driven shuffle that spashes on the sensuality with breathy vocals, shaker and a few distant synth voices in the mix. While Dubtribe days are over, the group had a pretty amazing run, including several albums, EPs and plenty of partying.
Sunshine Jones is about as vocal a devotee of House music as you can ever expect to find. Proclaiming it with the passion of a Gospel preacher, at his final New York gig he decried: ‘I have devoted my life to House music.’ The recordings you’re most likely to find in your lounge room are testament to this, with ‘Seven Days’ on about to earn its place alongside the Dubtribe LP’s ‘Baggage’ and ‘Bryant Street.’ Mix releases with Chillifunk have also reinforced their place in House music, but this information is only the surface. The most interesting stuff of Sunshine Jones is in his own head, the collected thought of a lengthy saga in dance music, and urban contemporary culture.
‘I play House music (unfashionable as that may sound). It’s my hearts fire,’ says Sunshine in his opening words. I wanted to know what to expect from his trip first and foremost, after hearing rave reviews of his show at Sugar in Adelaide last year. ‘Ordinarily I play for between three and six hours. I come with a percussionist and a mixer and a couple of effects. Lately I’m feeling what’s going on over at Persona, and KingStreet have even been making some amazing records. Like Cristian Paduraru, DJ Sense, and Raiders of the Lost Arp. I’m also really feeling some kind of a 1991 revival in my heart, totally re-interested in Murk again and really feeling early Sasha, and Darren Emmerson. Groovemates, stuff like that. It may sound like i’m all over the place but it’s cogent, and flows thoughtfully from the start to the end (I hope).’
‘I mix my own music into the set, and consider the center of the set a place where I can go into Dubtribe material. I sing, and blend with my drummer and even stop playing and drum with him. Sadly, Michael is not able to come on this trip… but that’s life.’ Stating that he doesn’t ‘bang it up for the kids’ he’s had mixed relations with sit-in drummers. ‘I play from my heart and there’s no place for sploshy mega-club fills in my DJ set.’ Sunshine’s philosophy is intertwined with his musical work, and there’s no hiding the passion in his words. ‘I think that right now, it’s time to reconnect. House is not a dirty word… it’s the source.’ Winding back the clock, Sunshine reveals that Dubtribe first appeared as twelve friends throwing a rent party in 1990. ‘We played all night, about 500 people filled our flat. We played House in Dub with lots and lots of live drumming. We got called Dubtribe by a guy who was pouting outside. He hated it, but we loved the name.’ The parties became more monthly, earning write ups in Urb and spiralling outward from there. ‘People wanted to hear it, so we made tapes, and tried to figure out how to travel.’
The group had difficulty making the transition from a house party to a club, and the ‘intimacy’ shift reduced the active Dubtribe members from twelve down to four. ‘The people who came to our house didn’t seem to want to go to a club… so we rebuilt, and would pack our whole studio into our van and travel for nine months of the year, going anywhere anyone would welcome us. It was experimental, haphazard and a lot of fun!’ Sunshine reflects fondly on these halcyon days ‘when rave was fresh and energized’ and notes the change in scene as Dance Music became an industry. Shifting with the times, the foursome reduced to the duo of Moonbeam and Sunshine in 1996, and their attention was turned to making records. With monthly parties drawing huge crowds, Sunshine always loved the vivid experiences of beach parties the best, but admits that those shows don’t pay for your survival. A career turning point for Sunshine was a remark made to him by Jonah Sharp in 1993: ‘If you spent one quarter of the time in the studio that you spend on the road, you might actually make some interesting records.’
Initially insulted, he now considers the remark ‘the best suggestion anyone ever made to me.’ In response, Dubtribe generated organic, relaxed House music ex emplar. ‘We released Sound System, and Selene Songs and Versions between 1991 and 1995 and many singles. A lot of that time was spent trying to live down the popularity of ‘Mother Earth’. We were not a Breaks group or a Trance act. We come from the idea that ‘House’ is all people and all music… a vintage idea. I love House because it’s an action… you have to dance, or you don’t get it. We’re not channel 152, or a dog and pony show. I really love that House music is simply not for everyone. It’s ours. It’s special.’
‘After 12 years of liveliness, drumming, chanting, as much human quality as possible, I’m starting Treehousemusic as well as Bonfireheart (record labels). I am signed up presently with NiteGrooves, and I’m going to do an album version of ‘Seven Tracks in Seven Days,’ some singles… see how it goes. That music is strictly my 909, Juno 106, TB-303 and a mic.’ On the topic of sampling, King Street advised him to replace a sample in his first ‘Seven days’ single ‘I Believe’ of Jamie Principal from ‘Baby Wants to Ride.’ Sunshine’s not afraid of using his own voice though, and urges more producers to speak forth in their work. ‘I think it’s sad that people can’t use their own mouth, and their own words. I mean, snag my beats but get your own mic, please. Grass roots… get a mic, make a record, throw a party… change your world.’
Picking up on the socio-political suggestion in his words I ask him about activism’s importance in his life. Finding anti-Bush poster art in his webspace, and following his motivational words (you ARE beautiful) there are many strands to his thinking, and I suddenly feel like I’m unlocking a stream of consciousness from a contemporary poet. ‘I mean, punk rock is top of the pops, so where is the voice of the people? If it isn’t where we gather and where we dance and celebrate, then it’s all at Wal-mart, baby. I can’t abide that. I’d rather go out like an archive, slugging for human interaction and free speech in front of ten people than to accept it and lay down and die.’
‘There’s so much information coming at a modern human, more than ever before, it seems like shutting down is a logical defence mechanism. Rather than banging the beats, I say speak more gently, and more honestly. My posse is very diverse… all shapes and sizes. The San Francisco I grew up in was not a hippie haven. It was Black Panthers, the SLA, the Communist Party, Gay and Civil rights… a heavy, radical place. (There was) a different kind of solidarity than we see today. People seem so different. Culture and values have radically changed world wide. People are marginalized now, no matter what they do. Unless you’re spending money and working for the man, you are out of the loop. There’s really no celebration of arts, and humanity. We’re concerned ultimately with gross national product, as opposed to gross national happiness. Some new iPod isn’t going to make anything any different. I love little electronic devices, but they aren’t the food of my soul.’
Offering a lofty set of ideals and an intense mind, Sunshine concludes with one last piece of advice for anyone swimming upstream in consumer society. Extending Ghandi’s preaching (‘be the change you want to see in the world’) Sunshine speaks in the same spirit that his House music is charged with. ‘The power of subtlety and example is far better than screaming and yelling about it.’ Don’t miss the opportunity to hear some very earth-bound grooves and some seriously big thinking when Sunshine hits your town this January.
Wed 25 - Sugar, Adelaide
Thurs 26 - La La Land, Byron Bay
Sat 28 – Family Night Club, Brisbane
Sun 29 – ‘The Garden’ at Slipp Inn, Sydney
