Three One G Records

It’s strange what sticks with you. Take a year, any year. Of all the songs you listened to, how many truly became a part of that year’s tapestry? How many are branded on you (or into you) and are now inseparable with the time–a permanent part of the soundtrack, as indelible and true as your strongest memories.

The Moving Units EP Three One G put out 18 years ago today has burned itself into the fabric of the year. At every house party I threw, at every DJ night our Fahrenheit San Diego magazine staff spun records at, I played “Between Us & Them,” “X And Y,” “I Am,” and “Melodrama.”
Those four songs were there each step of the way and when you listen to a record enough sometimes you hear it when you’re not. You hear it as you’re walking to 7-Eleven to get candy when you’re a little drunk at noon and the beat of your sneakers hits a familiar rhythm. You hear it in your head when you’ve stumbled into a sketchy situation and you need a little courage and swagger to navigate your way out. You hear it when things are good and your life becomes more colorful than normal–larger, your senses wild and receptive, your heart pumping blood.

In 2003 people made a lot of what you call “dance punk.” If you were to turn over any rock in any shitty creek, you’d find a band or two with a synth for a drummer, cokey vibes, skinny ties, and asymmetrical haircuts. A lot of it was shit, or felt inauthentic and thin as the work of newcomers, careerists, and dilettantes often does. Moving Units however did not. This was the real thing–powerful, catchy, goth disco sleaze, sad punk party jams, a little dirty yet not for effect, and 18 years later I’m still playing this EP on a regular basis, still hearing Chris Hathwell, Blake Miller, and Johan Boegli in my head when I need them most.

That my friends is a testament to the power of a great fucking record. It is a vital document. It sticks with you. Reveals itself in new ways. It doesn’t give up on you and if you’re worth anything you don’t give up on it either because it is a good living thing and a good living thing deserves as much.
–Adam Gnade, author of the novels This is the End of Something But It’s Not the End of You, Locust House, and Float Me Away, Floodwaters