Every day is a Foodman Celebration.
Every week is The Festival of Foodman.
Every month is Foodman History Month.
The History of Foodman:
食品まつり a.k.a foodman crawled out of a cosmic chrysalis suspended in the sky over Japan. His freshly constructed body, segmented into chunks of purple and green matter, ached with growing pains. As he began the descent to Earth, slipping downward inch by inch, his sore wings unfolded in all of their grandeur (flecked with crystalline pockets of color, iridescent, framed in lines of the deepest black) and these wings blocked out the sun for three days. Foodman didn’t know any better. He floated, stuporous and vaguely discontent. Shrouded in darkness, worried that some bitter god sought atonement for past transgressions, the populace began to pile culinary offerings outside of their homes. This seemed like a good idea. Spurred by the smell wafting up from the sudden victual flood, the space butterfly flapped his wings, tore out of his static orbit, and fell landward. As he plummeted toward the city, his wings were caught between two communication towers, tangled in wires and skewered by vast antennae. The wings snapped clean off of his cylindrical body, which plopped unceremoniously into the street for all to see. His gnarled form withered instantly, shredding decaying layers of green and purple flesh, shrinking down into the naked body of a man. No one dared approach him, considering him the sky-darkening deity incarnate, or just some really fucked up dude, as he slept for three more days face down against the concrete. On the seventh day, Foodman awoke to find the sun shining, and the forgotten piles of shrimp and rice and cucumber putrefying in the street. He picked up a shard of crystal from the husk of his broken wings, walked to a nearby cafe, and traded the crystal for a skewer of meat. Still groggy, but pulsing with potential, Foodman sat and ate.
Listen to “BIG BOOTY BITCH Foodman ブビ＆ツヤ REMIX” and let your mind sketch out its own Foodman Mythos (NB: the presence of a titular Big Booty Bitch is purely optional). The music of Shokuhin Maturi contains enough bonkers ideas, mauled samples, and warped rhythms to stimulate your brain into joyful creation, listen after listen after listen. Here, Foodman pulverizes a kinetic electro-“ghettotech” cut from Japanese crew Nature Danger Gang into a clattering footwork rhythm somewhere behind his conjured bursts of hi-fi electronic chaos. After modern classic tapes on Orange Milk and Digitalis, the maestro returns with a tape on Noumenal Loom sometime soon. These eyes have rarely, if ever, been more peeled.
• Foodman: https://soundcloud.com/shokuhin-maturi