Leave it up to the folks at Uncle to uncover something like this. A rum-drinking, whore-mongering old man who calls himself Tony Baritone. And they’re proud to call him their de facto DJ. Here’s what he gave us.
Uncle Presents… Tony Baritone Plays The Hits
We met Tony Baritone in a record store in Miami. He wore a gold pinky ring, drank rum out of a paper bag, and kept telling us stories about hookers he’d fallen in love with. It was incredible. Weird and kind of creepy, but incredible. As we were leaving the store, he said he liked us and wanted to send us some records. Against better judgment, we gave our address. Whatever strange possibilities he represented, we wanted to find out.
When we got back to New York, there was a package waiting for us. A beat-up Havana Club Rum box, full of dusty old records. Havana Club isn’t even legal in the states. But of course Tony would have a box of it. Probably more where that came from.
And that was shipment one. We didn’t know what to expect, and it blew our minds. A few months later, a second box came. Shipment Two. A note said “I surprised you,” in chicken scratch. He was probably drunk when he wrote it, and definitely drunk when he paid for the shipping.
But Tony Baritone is the man, so who the fuck cares. (more…)