Ruido—Spanish for “noise”—utilizes samples from Mexican movies from the 70s and 80s, flexes those sounds with dabs of synthesizers and vinyl, and in 24 minutes we’ve got “side a.” of Arely, the noche (night) side of this beat tape, a night of dramatic mugginess, of walking slowly down Lexington in the Upper East in high heels or slipping thru the invisible visibleness of public transportation. Soap opera actors come out of the blue-green haze of the noche unable to fully exist before signing out, getting canceled by a beat or another sample or another actress from another time saying something else in some other room, in another otherness absent but juxtaposed, creating a spliced interweaving, a weaving of buttons pressed and little moments expressed, albeit by phantoms. The drums become crannies to rest inside of while in this non-lexical terrain. Then back into the sampled landscape of a 404. Speckled drums and pianos and lo-fi pads and español.
Después de la noche humida we enter el día, the day, y cómo está usted, how you doin’, señor, have you had your eggs and café con leche or where are you, dónde estás, estás caminando en Atlixco, con tus amigos or what, what are you doing, where, making beats in this landscape and on these streets in this city unknown to me; the colors of the houses, the little pots of roses hanging on the side and look at that one over there and that one and on and on with that ginormous sky and sun, and I’m sunburnt, quema’o, ooof, pero está bien, it’s all good homie, these tunes relax me. Day began differently here, sans the spurt of to-the-office traffic and the scattering away of talking rats and two-foot roaches. Nothing can anger me now. Come down to Atlixco, hombre, it’s cool.