In summer of 2008 – during that first flush of youthful “holy shit I don’t live with my parents anymore…” – Jordan Koplowitz met Reed Juenger and they began making some next level beats in Garageband.
 
Reed, who was born in Massachusetts, moved to Seattle with the half-baked notion of escaping the town he went to high school in. Jordan had grown up in a Seattle satellite town Bellingham, a place best known for its snowboarding, outdoors, hippies and excellent marijuana. Between school classes and parties, instrumental tracks with vague references to M83 and Crystal Castles began to emerge.
 
Studying avant-garde composition and working at a local Radio station, Reed realized that melody, verses and choruses exist in pop music for a reason; only intellectual fucks like high-brow-experimental-self-referential-sound-sculpture and that is no way to get the ladies. So they moved on from Garageband, started DJing; things went full circle, their tastes changed, they started writing more music, paid some bills with DJ fees and bought some better equipment.
 
By the summer of 2010, aided by friends and lovers, including featured vocalist Tom Eddy, Jordan and Reed were sweating it out in an attic studio, walls coated in soundproofing lifted from a college radio station. Tracks were refined and polished, their shit jobs lamented, friends were dragged in to listen over and over again to tiny segments of music that wouldn’t make the cut. They had a few epiphanies. Realizing that the flow of an album really enhances each song, they applied their knowledge from the dancefloor. They borrowed some nostalgia. They made Surf Noir. It was a labor of love reflecting the wait for the summer months when everyone cuts loose.
 
Beat Connection summon up the mundane things in life, the things that we pretend don’t matter but the stuff that keeps everyone going; the first sunny day, getting the girl, slacking off, partying… things that are overly romanticized in movies. This is absolute indulgence, because the world is an incoherent jumble of perception and we all pass on eventually. So let’s have a good time and not worry too much, Saturday night always becomes Sunday morning.