“Something About Us” (Cherokee Remix)
Oh! Fellow grinders of chocolate, creamy milk mashers, my cocoa crumbling cohorts, I have a confession! Prepare yourselves: my favorite track from Discovery, that sweetest of bounties, is blasphemous: the slow track! Spare me! I admit; it may have something to do with that tragically maudlin segment in Interstella 5555, the rainbow pond and pink cotton puffs, which rents my heart in two each and every time. Or maybe it’s the bass line. Yeah. It’s that.
So, readers, I shamelessly present, via Earmilk, a very fine remix of that very fine track by French House entity Cherokee. This new “Something About Us” is an exercise in subdivision and acceleration. It is still smooth. There are bookend sounds of waves on a beach, which brings to mind a new landing on the island of Discovery, to see how its creatures have grown. They’ve grown good.
“Fok Julle Naaiers”
While I read about internet as a human right, my girlfriend is watching the newest Pirates of the Caribbean movie #eeek. So, if the internet were collectively passed in society as a human right, 30 years from now pirates will be the new hackers. Err, hackers the new pirate; the new deep black. Whichever, there would constantly be tons of new people arriving “late” to the internet for these hackates to digi-pillage. New people who consider nothing to be classist because they have no basis of classism. Eventually, errbody will have readily accessible internet — oh, and a computer and electricity, right? And those “late” arrivals will present the future of art and progression and culture and the extinction of humans void of internet communication. Because isn’t creativity and fresh viewpoints based on articulating misunderstanding? Maybe Die Antwoord is a part of this late-to-the-internet culture. Maybe “Fok Julle Naaiers” will become the new “cray.” Guess who’s back in their deus ex machina zone: DJ High-Tek.
Dejected Soul [exclusive mix]
I love hearing pitch-shifted vocals. Get the voice low or high enough and unique inflections are leveled — identity becomes ambiguous, accents become relatively indiscernible — and everyone kinda starts sounding the same. While it’s a way of deterritorializing and distancing, it also provides aesthetic continuity: listening to the very beginning of Heat Wave’s Dejected Soul — a new and exclusive mix for Tiny Mix Tapes — I’m immediately transported back to, well… yesterday, when I listened to the Eureka’d I’m Fuckin You Tonight, which features similar pitch-shifted sounds of artists past wrapped in sublime frequencies and sheer hellish miasma.
But don’t get me wrong: the sounds on Dejected Soul, Heat Wave’s fifth mix of the year, ain’t really half-remembered. It’s not like we’ve forgotten about The Zombies’ “Leave Me Be,” which here travels through quite the dimensional muck to get to the plane on which Heat Wave exists. It’s more, uh, half-dismembered? In any case, the continuity between the mixes is exciting, given that his source material on this mix is rock rather than R&B. Zoom out billions of miles away and time-warp 150 years into the future, and it’d probably all sound the same anyway, right? Pitch-shifting leads to distancing leads to continuity leads to time leads to space leads to relativism. You know what I’m saying.
Dejected Soul, mixed by TMT favorite Sean McCann, will have a limited tape run, but it’s also available for streaming below via SoundCloud (embed today!) and through Heat Rave, a new label that will take over Heat Wave releases from Deep Tapes. Check out the mix here:
Dejected Soul tracklist:
01. stop it
02. leave me
03. begin again
04. it’s my world
05. nobody knows
07. she stole
08. dejected soul
10. talk to yr mind
M. Geddes Gengras / Miko Revereza
Refractions [VHS segments]
Okay, so you say Refractions is the equivalent of watching an aquarium, but how about inside looking out? I’m sure fish see color differently than us. Imagine if fish could describe they’s habits as culture to humans. Opening our minds to how “yes” and “no” don’t apply in they’s daily lives; establishing neutrality as a daily interaction. That’s what this video is all about: exploration beyond technology and finding new colors. Not having boundaries of what defines the music, but what defines feeling. How do Sun Ark feel? Refractions is how Ged and Miko feel. This ain’t no adaptation.
The Garment District
“Bird Or Bat”
My dog Mahdi is a little stinker. As soon as we’re out the door, she races down our steps and gets her head stuck in the gate. I flick my BIC, play “Bird Or Bat” on my phone, it becomes the new night-walk jam, and I put my hood up. Mahdi is a hound doggie, so she loves playing detective on our walks. Her squirrel-hunting music is my man Marvin (NOT YOU), cause she’s the devil. She continues to sniff along, and I nod a lot until we reach the top of our block’s hill by big bushes. I’ve never been past that point, so I go around the front of the school there #mistake. Thinking the people talking at the end of “Bird Or Bat” is coming from inside the school, I instantly douse my Jamaican and run away with Mahdi down a ravine. The Garment District’s new cassette Melody Elder gives thanks to Night People. You should too by checking out Night People’s most recent batch of releases ASAP!
Into Clear EP
Hey. Come here. I want to show you something. Closer. Put your ear, like, right there. Now listen up. It might get a little loud, but stay put. It’s supposed to. What? No, I’m not spitting. That’s just the billion shards of crystal shrapnel embedding themselves into your ear. But it feels nice, right? I thought so. Soothing. A warm blanket, plus acupuncture of the ear drum.
OMG Vinyl turned us onto Glass Vaults and this, their new Into Clear EP, available either as a name-your-price download from bandcamp (where their first EP from 2010 is also avilable) or on extremely limited vinyl from JUKBOXR. The whole thing is certainly worth your time (and the bloody mess, plucking those shiny little daggers from your cochlea).
• Glass Vaults: http://glassvaults.bandcamp.com/album/into-clear-ep
• JUKBOXR: http://www.jukboxr.com/