Chocolate Grinder Mix 90
When I make a mixtape, I tend to focus first and foremost on the playlist’s transitions — the connective tissue between the songs on the mix. I’ll choose an opening track and then actively search out another one whose beginning simply sounds good coming right after the ending of the first song; fundamentally, the mixtape is a sonic journey, a linear path that the listener follows, so every metaphorical step must make sense in the context of the one that immediately preceded it. I don’t believe there’s anything particularly novel about this additive, song-by-song method of mixtape curation, but as I started to assemble this Chocolate Grinder mix, I began to consciously consider the limitations and possibilities of this technique. It occurred to me that, when I make a tape for a specific person, I try to stick to a generally consistent vibe throughout the entirety of the mix; a Wolf Eyes track and a Danny Brown song are unlikely to exist on the same CD.
But why not? With this eight-song playlist, I decided to undo all of the restrictions on genre, artist, or any other category that I normally self-impose while making a mix; the only criterion for each track was that it had to make sense — often on a basic sonic/aesthetic level, but occasionally in terms of context — in relation to the song that came directly before it. And before this introduction becomes completely overlong, I have to mention one fascinating result of this unrestricted, automatist method of mixtape curation: in seemingly every draft of this mix that I came up with, unexpected and completely unpremeditated connections between the songs were revealed. For example, it wasn’t until several listens through this final version of the mix that I realized that Dean Blunt’s chilling repetition of “There are gonna be gunshots” at the end of “Six” foreshadows “Hold My Liquor’s” intrinsic link (both in Justin Vernon’s referential opening lyric, as well as in Chief Keef’s legal issues) to the gun violence that continues to cripple certain part of Chicago.
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[00:00] Takako Minekawa and Dustin Wong - “Party on a Floating Cake”
[04:53] Julianna Barwick - “One Half”
[08:00] Dean Blunt - “Six”
[10:34] Co La - “Remarkable Features”
[14:09] Arca - “Anaesthetic”
[16:08] Kanye West - “Hold My Liquor”
[19:53] Lil Wayne - “Love Me (feat. Drake & Future)”
[23:58] Carly Rae Jepsen - “Call Me Maybe (Saint Pepsi remix)”
The average K-Pop company’s breakneck pace of profiteering on the backs of their $pit$hined star-products never fails to astound. One dizzying example is boy band B.A.P, who made their debut in January 2012 and dared five “comebacks” (i.e., new EPs and corollary press junkets, tours, adverts) that year alone. And now they’re on track to break that record in 2013.
Then there’s legendary girl group After School (whose “Shampoo” — it must be said — remains a top contender for the Korean pop machine’s truest masterpiece). They made their Korean comeback this year with the First Love mini-album and a music video-minded mastery of pole-dancing (executed in parallel with the Japanese debut album by After School “sub-unit” Orange Caramel). Now AF is gearing up for Japanese language single “Heaven,” the group’s best work since their vaunted 2011 heyday. The ebullient hit’s flattened funk riffs sponge some groove from Daft Punk’s recent Nile Rodgers reruns, minus the interview-espoused rockism: there’re plenty of drum machines and fake-as-shit strings in “Heaven” after all.
The video’s intro pole-dancing sequence also features a bonus minute of mesmeric G-funk. Here’s to hoping that’s an excerpt from the instrumental of “Crazy Driver,” the b-side that’ll be featured on the “Heaven” single when it drops on October 2.
After battering us into a state of bright-eyed submission for more than 10 years, industrial pioneer Justin Broadrick’s Jesu project has built a catalog nearly as deep as his seminal output with (currently reunited and touring!) Godflesh. More than simply his outlet for clean vocals and shoegaze textures, Jesu channels Broadrick’s tonal savagery and production mastery into monolithic compositions just as rooted in the mind (see: your interior retreat into long-buried emotions) as in the body (see: the wide arc formed by your sludge-paced headbanging). Though the project’s EP releases can stretch into drifting side-long structures or incorporate electronic techniques developed under the Pale Sketcher moniker, each “proper” Jesu album finds Broadrick complicating his template of defeated balladry and distorted catharsis in the context of another song cycle.
“Homesick,” the opening track of the forthcoming Everyday I Get Closer to the Light From Which I Came LP, buries Broadrick’s vocals a little lower in the mix than usual, while his unmistakable down-tuned guitars pound out a major key progression in time with the martial drum track. As ever, God is in the details: the chiming synth phrases that crest over the low-end, the four-chord arpeggio masked behind the wall of gain, and guitar overdubs layered in as the track climbs up to its conclusion.
Everyday I Get Closer to the Light From Which I Came arrives September 24 through Broadrick’s own imprint Avalanche Inc.
Total Orgasm 3
FINALLY!!! The deserved follow-up to Kool Keith’s modern opus Total Orgasm mixtape is HERE: Total Orgasm 3. It’s equal in humor, for sure. Got them above and beyond Earthly rhyme schemes. Even the featured rappers meet that level of fuck-it flow. Although there’s WAY more features on Total Orgasm 3 than the first, it doesn’t stifle the series. And even though, “All songs [are] produced by Kool Keith aka Number One Producer,” production by DJ Junkaz Lou and Mr. Sche give the series a good nod and nod and nod to the beat to feel out. Oh, and it’s still nasty. Still about… oh-wait: sex? Or the vile? ALL DAT! They “Fuck rap [and] taking over this shiiiiit.” I’m being real. Listen to this all day today. It’ll change most of your life, maybe. But having come this far, Keith just follows in Notorious B.I.G.’s infamy, “If I fart on the mic, that shit gonna sound good.” And I HATE referencing old hip-hop like that, and want to KILL people old hip-hop style when they reference it verbally, but Total Orgasm 3 is just the literal version of… well, please listen (around the 16:06 mark <3). Don’t wanna post red-flag spoilers. GET SPOILED ON Total Orgasm 3 NOW!!!!!!!!!
• Kool Keith: http://totalorgasm.bandcamp.com
Baby Birds Don't Drink Milk
There are videos that exist as ideas before the accompanying music is ever settled on, and then there are videos that hear a song out and proceed to break it down into its basic visual forms. The new video for “Burt,” the closing track to Baby Birds Don’t Drink Milk’s new album Think Tone, encapsulates every familiarity heard in the nearly seven-minute duration of the song: slow-moving waves; occasional glimpses of light; layers of skin and cloth rolling over each other and folding in on themselves, rising out of and falling back into the dark; and a mass of blackness absorbing and reforming the Beach Boys-tinged ocean vibes rolling inward on the coast.
These images by themselves are eerie and disconcerting, but with “Burt” ringing out of your speakers, it’s clear that under the layers of water and smooth linen lies that glowing light: a core where everything is made incomprehensible before it all becomes one. It’s the BBDDM way of pulling layers of sunshine from the ambient din at the center of every song, and it has never been more prevalent than on this track, with guitar strums and vocal harmonies rippling outward before fading and returning to the source. We are the woman on the beach, covered and only seeing the light when the obscuring sheet is pulled from our eyes, allowing us to finally see where all the warmth is coming from.
Think Tone is out now on Fire Talk Records.
“How Many Hearts Do You Hold”
Captivated by grime and goop, ears are cleansed of filth only to be replaced with the sludgiest of all beats. High wizard JFM not only delivers the muck of sound sacrifice in his temple of fuck-drip, but also sweats this vibe through excreting samples and grainy textures of any kind, really. Casting down upon the unconverted, JFM becomes their mind’s eye and morphs into what their body needs to move. Gripping everything, including souls and mental health, JFM will stop at nothing to bring your feet to a maddening degradation of psyche.
But lemme keep this brief: I was trolling a typical music source of mine today and stumbled upon JFM. Digitally stumbled upon. Like, I’m fucking trapped in this machine, and it’s at my full-time job. I NEED OUT. HELP. THIS IS REAL. JFM HAS ABSORBED ME INTO MY WORK COMPUTER. And my only way out is if you buy up his Self Titled LP album on Divorce Records!