Ventla, a one-man recording project from actual Japan (/not future-fetish Japan), has released his fantastic 21st free album (of 100), titled Surely Reliable. Somewhat of an extension of his previous volume, Fansubbed Last Words, this 28-minute episode marks Ventla’s self-aware foray into the vaporwave movement. But unlike the sample-screw-release process of the vaporwave everyman, Ventla actually composes and records his own thought leader anthems and executive lounge dance jams, the cassette hiss you hear no DAW preset but every bit the real deal. Free to incorporate influences far beyond the wholesale muzak norm (new jack, chiptune and YMO, to name a few obvious ones on Reliable), Ventlan vaporwave arguably bests the flagging movement’s erstwhile heroes in sheer musicality and replay value — though some may posit that his tactics run counter to vaporwave’s possibly subversive and demi-academic intent. Whatever; try bumping “ATRAC 4 Swing” and act like you mind.
Download here or listen via Soundcloud.
• Ventla: http://ventla.tumblr.com
So, the trip of this IS… you cannot listen to Conversations (Revisited) with the lights out. Like, immediately, I think the Jerky Boys. Then I’m thinking, “Boiii, Brandon, is you doing all these calls?” But I start to realized, as I’d said – with the lights out – there’s a VERY haunting effect to this. I mean I feel guilty. I can’t say anything to these people. FUCK, this is stressful, but real-real. Right? Conversations (Revisited) is making my dog bug OUT. So, then I start taking a leak, and it felt like I was disrupting something with the noise of my bowl echoing piss, and WHOA! Is Brandon “crossing-lines?” WHOA! No, yes, he IS!! Wow, people really get on this, Larry. Hello, Larry, yo!! I want this soundboard. Holy moly, this is recorded trolling on a WHOLE new level. Not only do IIIIII feel a mess of guilt, but I’m bearing audio witness to the most elaborate troll scheme EVER. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAnd I cannot walk to my bedroom now without freaking out at the mere resemblance of a visage. If I see a face besides my girls, I’m smashing it in Irreversable-style. I’m thinking I’d just start talking to Audre. Paul? Oh shit, I gotta call Paul about dress code, cause I want a rocking Vegas outfit. Nowww, I gotta stop. This track has brought the devil out in me, and there’s too much “ME” and “I” in this post for my liking. So… without establishing character or voice or pronoun: BYE!! YOU called CHUCKY’S dad? Also, when you stop Conversations (Revisited) it feels like these voices are just trapped in this audio forever. As though being prey to the quiet caller absorbed a momentary bit of being through the receiver and into Brandon Locher’s recorder. CONCLUSION: beware, for this release is joyfully maddening.
• Brandon Locher: http://brandonlocher.bandcamp.com
On May 1, our lives will change for[ever/the better] when Dean Blunt — provocateur, stalker, and all-around cute guy — releases his first “proper” solo album, The Redeemer on Hippos In Tanks/World Music. To get you excited, Blunt just released a track from the album titled “Papi,” which features clear-as-day vocals over a sample of Pink Floyd’s “Echoes.” It ends with a canny New Year’s countdown, unsettling and awkward, as it should be.
So, when I first heard “Applesauce” off the last AnCo album Centipede Hz, it was WAY my jam-shit. I mean, it’s still my jam-shit, but director Gaspar Noé just made “Applesauce” that much more MORE MORE in this here new video for the track. And I ain’t gotta say the obvious, but creative interpretation is just OOZING in this video. I love it. It’s also totally questionable if this video is work appropriate. I’ve been flicking back and forth through the thought of guilt this entire time. COLORS ARE EVERYWHERE RIGHT NOW!!!
Dean Blunt and Inga Copeland
“Stalker 5 (future favela ipanema 2069 VIP mix)”
We have no idea where these stalker videos are going (if they’re going anywhere), but here we have the fifth installment of Dean Blunt and Inga Copeland’s “stalker” series anyway, and things are as confusing as they were before. This is actually sorta like the sixth installment, since there was a New Jersey edition of stalker #5 last year, but in any case, here we have the stalker finding himself in Rio de Janeiro, sitting awkwardly on a chair. It’s (kinda) fucked up. It’s (kinda) scary. It’s (definitely) #waynerooney #nike #sparkplugs and #motorcycles.
And, at last, the stalker speaks: “ainy my fault black boyz do it betta boo.”
Fly Zone [mixtape]
Red lights are flashing in strobes, and motion has become dancing the way your body bends with everyone in the crowd, with her next to you but shoulder to shoulder, breathing as heavy as that Fly Zone beat running through your insides, FEELING everyone’s insides vibrating at once in smoke or mist or fog — “What’s that smoke?” she nods yes, as everyone on the floor is coughing in a plume of colors; “Who is this?” you ask, and with her hands, she spells out LE1F, to which you shrug with everyone else waving their body and shrugging, but she stops and looks at you, takes you by your hand, and you and she are running down the stairs and you feel the rush hit you as you slip onto your ass and then your head, and you thought “seeing stars” was a saying until they fade away and she appears staring at you, mouthing something about being okay-okay-OK okay, and she helps you up and [the formal] YOU’re out the door, maybe smoking a cigarette, still very disoriented from living a life you’re, like, “Wait, are we leaving this right now, or does that LE1F dude play the same music there every weekend, ‘cause shit is all encompassing, no? Like, in a way where I’d want that experience to happen again, but with someone else, as something always random, you feel me?” and she walks away screaming about pop or soda or cola, as you head back toward the club for one more ride.
Download LE1F’s Fly Zone mixtape here and/or stream below:
• LE1F: https://twitter.com/LE1FNY