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Born to gypsy militants, David Stone was raised to distrust nuns, large holes in the ground and anything starting with the letter Q. Once he was old enough to realize he was old enough, Stone packed his bags and fled to the big city, where he learned three things – you can’t get a decent sandwich at night unless you make it yourself, coffee gives you heartburn, and music is the greatest thing ever.
Armed with this knowledge, Stone toiled in nightclubs, beer-stained saloons and Swedish furniture stores to gain a greater appreciation for music and flat-packed bookcases you assemble yourself. In that time, he also learned how to turn on a stereo, and elected to call himself a DJ. He studied under the wing of Shaolin record collectors, inherited a cynical attitude that kills lesser mammals, and learned to love cheesecake.
Finally opting for a career in music, he moved into the despicable field of journalism, then concert promotion, leaving the DJ part to become a late night hobby that’s taken him across the country, earning him the right to namedrop big-wigs like Sasha, Paul Oakenfold, Armin Van Buuren, Satoshi Tomiie, The Crystal Method, Tiesto, Christopher Lawrence, Richie Hawtin, Max Graham, Donald Glaude and Judge Jules. He has a website and annoys anyone within earshot that the new Battlestar Galactica is the best thing ever.
He currently resides in Edmonton, has begun producing what could be loosely called “choons”, hosts a weekly Saturday night radio show called BPM on CJSR-FM 88.5, plays regularly around town, and would like to know if anyone would be willing to pay for his therapy, or at least a new mixer. He can also read.
(Member of the Richmond Records Pool and the Release Promo Pool)