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As the biggest star to emerge from the rave scene, Moby has never forgotten his dance roots. So while he has David Bowie on the main stage of his Area2 tour, Moby has allotted space for his peers from the dance world to expose the art of the DJ to a new audience. Though it's a noble gesture, the setup of the dance tent at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater on Tuesday was surprisingly shoddy. It was thrown over a concrete parking lot, without any chairs or cushions for seating.
When Moby had the duo Azure Ray come to his New York home studio to sing on his recent "18" album, all was fine except for one thing. "They are the nicest people in the world," he says of Orenda Fink and Maria Taylor. "The only difficulty in working with them is that they sing so quietly I had to use a very special microphone specifically designed for really quiet sounds." Taylor laughs when she's told of Moby's comment. "He just had this one microphone for us," she says.
June 9, 2002
In response to Boris Menart's contention that, sans sampling, Moby is "John Tesh," I direct Menart to listen to "Animal Rights" and see if he thinks the comparison holds (Letters, May 26). For someone who purports to be from a record company, Menart should know better than to judge an artist based on sound snatches he may have heard on a TV commercial or only on one CD. Too many of Moby's critics haven't taken the time to listen to his back catalog and judge his work as a whole. They're content to jump on the "he only samples" bandwagon.
May 26, 2002
One wonders what certain dead bluesmen would think of finally having their voices heard by millions of people, only to discover that the artist listed on the record is some guy named Moby ("What Do You See, Moby?" by Robert Hilburn, May 12). Let's hope that Senor Moby's much-flaunted version of Christianity doesn't include a heaven where he meets these bluesmen, or there may be mucho trouble in paradise. Incidentally, the last time I heard a discussion of happy and sad chords was by a member of the band Spinal Tap. Hmmm.
May 19, 2002
How fortunate for Robert Hilburn to have spent hundreds of hours with Richard Melville Hall (Moby) during his promotional stint for "18" ("What Do You See, Moby?" May 12). I am originally from Hawthorne (home of the Beach Boys, in case you didn't know). I owned a music studio in Gardena last year. Local South Bay punk bands would perform on the weekends. I had to let that business venture go due to certain legalities. In desperate pursuit of work, I recently moved out to Palm Springs as a waiter, and I am now working as a marketing director at an art gallery in nearby Palm Desert.
May 12, 2002 | ROBERT HILBURN
As Richard Melville Hall stands in a health-food market aisle in his rumpled sweatshirt and jeans, lunch hour shoppers have no idea this diminutive fellow rivals Beck as the hip pop auteur of the day. He looks like just another 36-year-old bald guy trying to choose between barbecue seitan and tofu. Hall, better known to pop fans as Moby, puts a wheat-based seitan sandwich in his red shopping basket, alongside a fruit drink and energy bar, and heads to the checkout counter.
February 17, 2002 | STEVE HOCHMAN
Moby has an Olympian task looming--and we're not talking about his scheduled performance in the Salt Lake City Winter Games' closing ceremony next Sunday. The challenge awaiting the electronic rocker is to repeat the 2.4 million U.S. and nearly 10 million worldwide sales of his breakthrough 1999 album "Play" with the follow-up "18," due in stores May 14. Moby has a plan in regard to reaching those heights again: don't.
November 17, 2001 | BOB POOL, TIMES STAFF WRITER
It's a whale of an effort, Tim Rudnick's one-man campaign to create an oceanarium in Venice. No wonder he's harpooned "Moby-Dick" to help out. Rudnick will stage his eighth annual marathon reading of Herman Melville's classic tale of the sea starting at 7 a.m. today and Sunday at Venice Beach. As usual, he will invite people to take turns reading the 135-chapter sea-hunt thriller until as late as 10 p.m., with the light of a kerosene lantern near the water off Windward Avenue.
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