“Perdizes Camp Seniors”
A writing assignment on a new piece of work from Brazil’s Babe, Terror comes with both great excitement and a hell of a lot of anxiety, seeing as how it means I have to come up with more ways to describe what is, for all intents and purposes, very, very difficult to describe. Currently, there is very little on the planet that sounds close to what Babe, Terror (or, as he is also known, Perdiz es Dream) is up to with his music, and, aside from making some half-assed kind of March Madness joke in terms of the Cami Alvarez-directed video’s use of old-timey basketball footage, the video-mulch-meets-watercolor technique is pretty stand alone as well. All I can really say is that the overall effect of this amazing artist’s use of light and sound is absolutely and completely mesmerizing. “Perdizes Camp Seniors” sounds like an outdoor chorus of ghosts singing praises on high, only sampled and interjected with sputtering moments of space to give something that is ostensibly beat-less a heaving sense of rhythm that feels like it’s really meant for the dance floor. And whether you find yourself awkwardly swinging a partner around to this one or just at home with headphones glued to your head and your eyes slowly crossing as you near that comatose state, it ultimately doesn’t really matter. Wherever you find yourself with Babe, Terror, you’re bound to be lost anyway.
This track is found on Babe, Terror’s new tape, College Clash, which is available from Glue Moon.
Another day, another project of the sunn 0))) / Southern Lord extended family, another chance for me to dive blindly into the abyss and tumble down past the boiling fire pits and crags and super aggro crags to the stone lair where Attila Csihar keeps my heart in a jar of blackened formaldehyde. Many miles separate the all-star participants in Gravetemple — Stephen O’Malley [USA->Paris], Attila [Hungary], Oren Ambarchi, and Matt “Skitz” Sanders [Australia] — but the sessions we hear on Ambient/Ruin lose none of their power for having drifted across years and oceans and desktop audio workstations to our ears. What we get here is just what we’d expect from the musicians involved: churning acoustimatic field recordings, howls of torture, overdriven electronics, and the most chest-crushing hi-fi guitar drone on the market. If you think this all sounds a bit like Monoliths and Dimensions minus the horn and string arrangements (and Greg Anderson), you’re on to something: these neo-concrète doom-drone collages first emerged from the magma right around that time as a self-released demo CD-R in 2008.
Check out “II,” 17 minutes of sublime terror from Ambient/Ruin, below. Allow Csihar’s chants, Ambarchi’s motorized cymbals, and O’Malley’s classic 0)))-ing to pull you down to That Place — you’ll recognize it when you get there. And peep the cover art by the vbercvlt overlord himself, Justin Bartlett.
Grab the 2xLP from Ideologic Organ on April 29.
• Ideologic Organ: http://editionsmego.com/releases/ideologic-organ
Car fumes hazing red break lights bend as a draft pulls the emissions toward a hole in the road. Close to the border now, sweat and fear swell their minds and smuggling [BLANK] in from wherever to u.s. is both brilliant and daunting. Muck in the sewer changes consistency closer to the change, and CHANCE takes the IMAGE of confusion. Confusion: both within thyself and outer attire, covered in nothing worth mentioning (for your stomach’s sake), CHANCE and the P. Child crawl patiently through to freedom. Heavy paranoia seeps in through their pours; Mexico city has a huge crowd for this sorta music. Disguised in broken notes and thoughts, claps of what’s thought as noise turns into noise.
They seem to be an outfit for mythic musical pleasure, but become mules in underground [BLANK] trading and commerce. It’s clever, as they are always hard at work doing something. And meeting them in Brooklyn or Eagle Rock or Glasgow or Belgium becomes a guessing game of “Where am I?” Which is chill in a “Where am I?” sorta way. And in the same way people never pass through animate objects, CHANCE’s “TRIGGER*FINGER” creates a rouse in order to placate the thoughts of everyone/everything. Sonically, and specifically, CHANCE distorts your mind to something of repetition, dancing upon your thoughts of something layered and clicked in muck, but not of the slow-drip kind, more of that thick sustainable sludge that looks solid on the iris. Once you’ve drawn your entire focus to it, nothing else matters but the [BLANK] running through your system, all provided by the fellah who brings you REAL internal entertainment.
• CHANCE/IMAGE: http://chanceimag.es
“Haze.Boogie.Life” [live @ Unisex Earplug]
After Guardian Alien’s blistering set at Unisex Earplug — our unofficial SXSW party with Northern Spy — Mykki Blanco took the stage with DJ Open1one for easily one of the highlights of the showcase. It seemed to be a bit disconcerting for the audience at first, as making that switch from Guardian Alien’s hypnotically full-throttled minimalism to Mykki Blanco’s experimental hip-hop wasn’t particularly easy. But once Mykki got going, she ignited the crowd with an over-the-top, theatrical performance that had us all enraptured.
Check out Mykki Blanco’s performance of “Haze.Boogie.Life” below, one of the first tracks she performed at the show (and first track on her amazing Cosmic Angel: Illuminati Prince/ss mixtape). You can see the crowd, having just been transported into the heavens by Guardian Alien, now slowly being pulled down by one bad motherfucker.
Thanks once again to TERROREYES for capturing the performance.
• Mykki Blanco: http://www.mykkiblancoworld.com
Whenever I find a track particularly energetic or enjoyably brutal, I usually tell people something along the lines of “this shit is so good it makes me want to break things” or “I just want to run around punching people while listening to this.” I always thought I was alone with these thoughts, but Radio People’s video for “Night Club” makes me think otherwise. At first, Radio People (a.k.a. Sam Goldberg) might not seem like your typical “let’s fucking destroy everything” type of artist, but listen closely to the sparkling synth lines of 2011’s Hazel and it becomes obvious that there’s a constant pulsating energy beneath the dulcet cosmic tones of the music; it’s not necessarily overtly violent, but it’s there. Musically, “Night Club” picks up right where Hazel (Mexcian Summer) left off, but this surprisingly “metal” video visualizes the energy hidden beneath the track’s ethereal surface by showing a gnarly dude with one hell of a beard breaking a lot of shit and, uh, drinking steak juice.
Watch the video for “Night Club” here:
“Night Club” is the title track off Radio People’s forthcoming cassette, due next month on Treasure Records.
Interesting. My retort to your “Mamma Cry” question, Mystikal: “Why have you been thrown in prison multiple times for sexual assault?” Like, at what point does a celebrity recognize s/he has just the same power as every other human being? For example, the power of patience more than need.
Okay, this IS Mystikal’s year. He’s been talking about how we all waiting for him. Not really bragging about WHY he was in prison, but just that he was and wasn’t rotting while locked up. I get it. YMCMB gets it. But it’s real fucking hard to enjoy a convinced sex offender’s art.
Yet I’m right there with him on not paying taxes and shit. That’s hardcore Wesley Snipes shit. And to completely change what I was saying before, maybe I am more interested in his work because potentially he’s changed, right? Years of prison. “And we beat the shit outta you.”
Art does reciprocate humanity and change. Always the question: is art created by evil just as desirable, if not MORE, than art created by good? You get joy with “good” art, and it’s easy to feel pleasant listening to it. It’s just way harder to create art that people may find attractively repulsive.
Not saying any of Mystikal’s music does this so far, but maybe it’s deeply rooted. And I’m totally not one to listen to lyrics and decipher their meaning. So, all in all, I’m glad Mystikal is back. I’ve been waiting a while, and this dude just belts years of silence into slices of nasty tracks.
I like how I’m writing all of this in short paragraphs. Does it make my shit look poignant? “Nah!!” On the real, when the FUCK is the Original LP hitting “stores?” I need it to rape my ears. Poor choice of words? Full-circle writing. I want an audio sample of my girl doing her Mystikal impression…