Montezumas Rache & Dominik Von Senger
What’s the name of that pianist that turned his back to the crowd and looked out the driver side window at the “winding river?” And why did they force him to wear a top hat as he chauffeured them up the Pacific Coast Highway? The top hat was so tall that modifications had to be made to the roof to accommodate the hat’s height.
They were up the night before, sawing slovenly at the roof, drunk on moscato, making a crude hole for the hat. “This will be good for a laugh. Wait and see his face when we show him the hat and the hole.”
The hole worked for a time. However, some miles into their journey along the “winding river,” the jagged edges along the circumference of the hole gnawed at the felt hat. It didn’t last long once the hole’s teeth got ahold of it. The pianist went to remove the hat, in near tatters, but they hollered, still drunk on cheap cloying wine, “No! No! Don’t take off the hat. Sooo hilarious.”
The pianist did as he was told, concealing his irritation. The hole licked its lips and went to town.
Splayed out sample status with this one. Mind grapes reeking with conceptual dividedness. I don’t care/I care in view. An immersion in cake-baked pasta past. Didn’t get it at first. That’s why this is so late. Been stewing. Been thinking. Been retreading haunts with double-downed dice tosses and mixed drinks. Aaron’s got it though. Bleeding gums and scratch ticket glory. Dollar bin gripper and flipper satiating eardrums with restitched lo-fi deftness. He’s got it.
Seattle’s MOTOR crew has been dabbling in psych-leaning techno for over two years, but they’ve finally unleashed the dark, raw acid soaked ravers these times so desperately need. The EP, courtesy of Denver’s Ceremonial Abyss and dubbed Nuit, is out December 4 in cassette and digital formats, and it contains twenty-plus minutes of unrelenting badassness over two sides, especially the high octane kick-off of “Ritual I,” which we’re stoked to premiere below. If you’re wondering what I mean by “acid,” think the Zion rave scene in The Matrix Reloaded or the vampire dance party in Blade, and you’ll have an idea the kind of party that Ceremonial Abyss has in mind. I could for sure keep blabbing and inserting .gifs all over the place, but take a break from whatever you’re doing, hit play on “Ritual I,” and turn it up real loud.
Latest Squiggle Dot release Kiosk by The Person is pure fucking fun. Actually, these eight tracks have been out for a minute, but with holiday action and leasing a new car, I’ve been a bit sluggish on the Grind. However, in light of premiering another Squiggle Dot track later this week, Ima just note: The Person really defines how the realty value of mall Kiosks is typically hire because they always poppin’ off the newest and dopest swagger. These SAMPLES are SELLING me:
We all need to relax right now. Doorbusters have ended, the work week has begun, and if you still think those leftovers will taste good you better throw them out before I say “Rain Dragon Records has a new release available on their Bandcamp called Boogie Idol” three times in a row as fast as I can. Or else.
Hold up, Hydro. What’d you say? So you’ve never heard of this little underground net label? Well, check ‘em out, because they’ve got vapor, they’ve got funk, they’ve got post-video game, they’ve got post-vapor, they’ve got e-juice, they’ve got starter packs; almost all of it available for free or with a 99 cent price tag. Aesthetically, their Bandcamp page reminds me of shopping inside a mall in a Pokémon city or flipping—9 cards at a time—through my vast collection of rare Yu-Gi-Oh! cards. You get me. The trans-Pacific Tokyo-Vancouver exchange heats up on Boggie Idol. Think smiling mailman on the sidewalk, free sushi, yummy mall Wifi, bamboo shoots, grainy anime, coffee breaks in a peaceful skyscraper, cherry-blossom scented hands, small paintings above toilets, retro meets digital, dragons snoring inside the trunk of a tree, smiling Tokyo girls, undergrad Japanophiles. Wrap all of that up in seaweed, put it in a jar, cast it out into the ocean, and wait for the return. Wait inside a hotel room, wait inside an internet dungeon. Wait outside in the rain like in 1989 when you didn’t know the usefulness of umbrellas yet. Fly to Tokyo and Europe and back, drinking Sapporo over the American continent like as if 1492—and, subsequently, Thanksgiving—never happened. And remember to boogie while on the plane!