C L E A N E R S
Real Raga Shit Vol. 1
The real fraud is that line between reality and dreaming. You lose your breath both in the cold and of the mind, but one thing’s for SURE: “What did you say? ‘Cause I definitely remember differently.” Caked layers of dust upon imagery that may have happened, but where were we, you know? That area of me to you? We won’t escape the “Slumtown Symfunny” together without clothing. Or hysteria in the name of clapping louder than flailing out around the edge of town. Hysteria. More like a buddy-cop movie that is searching for meaning in the meandering. A big magnifying glass. Mom jeans. The apartment key around your neck: it’s purple.
“C L E A N E R S must’ve been here,” you said while wiping your index finger across Real Raga Shit left stuck to the ground. My sweater up against your jeans – now, knelt – and the shoreline is waving in ice upon the sand. The chill numbs all -teriors. Feeling this far from the opposite [diagonal south] seeps in the harshness of “Tijuana Blues.” What does it mean to be alive and a human being? It’s the pinnacle of civilization to build your hair back from bald into a fucking mow-hawk. Fake hair found at the scene between you and her; me and she; them; they all in on this: one way or another. Flex the flow of existence below:
Bones’ latest full-length, Deadboy, is pretty much the stuff Tumblr-rap wet dreams are made of: murky beats, sad stoner aesthetics, flows straight from the playbook of Three Six Mafia circa The End. Over the past two years, Bones has strived and smirked in the abandoned alleyways of Los Angeles, working double time as both a solo artist and as leader of his own brigade of bloggers-cum-artistes: the nefarious TeamSESH. Lyrically, the 19-year old rapper sticks to the script (Weed! Money! Bitches! Zombies!), but when it comes to soundscapes, tacking down a common denominator gets a lot trickier; the trappy, vaguely trippy antics of “1968” and “Wi-Fi” would feel at home on Lil B’s recent 05 Fuck Em, but the fuzzy vocals and new age instrumentals are from a galaxy far, far away. “If you don’t abide, get ready to die!” he commands at the end “Lightning,” ushering in the arrival of…a moody piano tune straight out of Are You Afraid of the Dark? It’s one of many moments on Deadboy where Bones appears to be pulling our leg, drawing attention to overly-bold contrasts which should render the project an insipid mess. In all truth, the joke’s really on us: the weird little world of Deadboy, the drugged dirges that seep from its cracks merely reflect the detritus we shove to the back of our minds, or onto our Tumblr feeds. Same thing. Anyway, you can download for free via TeamSESH. Have fun!
• Bones/TeamSESH: http://www.teamsesh.com
On to the next one. NYC, HELL? LAPD. 9/11? L.A. Riots. “Hot sexy mamas…” Zapp & Roger. @LIL_ICEBUNNY: Deep psychological profiling of people based off their twitters. Alone on the internet. Alone. On the internet. “Computer Love.” Try and keep up. Far Side Virtual –> Sushi –>NYC. BODYGUARD. BEBETUNE$. Why do you think this man’s joking? The joke is you.
• James Ferraro: https://www.facebook.com/pages/James-Ferraro
Tabs Out: Laser Focus #3
Tabs Out is an all-cassette podcast that’s been documenting the prolific tape underground with joyful obsession and humorous expertise since 2012. Tiny Mix Tapes has teamed with Tabs Out for a show called Laser Focus, in which tape aficionados/fetishists Mike Haley, Dave Doyen, and Joe B hone in on a specific label or artist. Check out the archive here.
Can I be real with you? I mean really real for a second. In the ever-expanding universe of cassette labels, Orange Milk is the best thing going. Their visual work is staggering, an homage to 80s video game artwork and 90s virtual reality landscapes. Their artist roster is the most unique and exciting out there, packed with names you’ve never heard before creating sounds you’ve never heard before. The execution of bringing those together makes for mind-boggling cassettes.
We talked with Seth Graham and (ex-TMTer) Keith Rankin, the dudes behind the label, about how things got started and where they are going. We also talked about their duo Cream Juice and what they like and hate about experimental music. And poop. We talked a lot about poop.
And, of course, we played some tapes:
- Cream Juice - Man Feelings
- Developer / Quilt split
- Ventla - Smuggled
- Jerry Paper - International Man Of Misery
- Homeowner - Themes From 172
- Foodman - Shokuhin
Seth Graham and Keith Rankin on Skype
Cover art for upcoming EQ Why cassette
Cover art for upcoming Seth Graham / Flower Man split
Orange Milk HQ
Cream Juice live at Orange Milk showcase
Così e Così
Another year. Another premiere. Yet, this is some fresh stuff in the works here from Così e Così. Self Exit is “the transition from a past life to new/no life.” As ghost merges with the torments of aura, being becomes stuck between ascension and the real world. Hollow ground and the dimensional pulsate echos of wailing through time and space and sound becomes that of purgatory. The meeting of noise and melody. The perception of past and the future, together.
Like holding out your hand and grasping for rope too far to reach. Looking over, and seeing the man smiling, pouring clear liquid from a bagged bottle into a to-go coffee cup. Falling asleep in a city ATM nook and waking up a few bucks richer in the morning. That “Happy Holiday’s” sign upside-down, skyline peaking out from behind it, and the silhouette of two people shaded by night. It’s the new year that rips the Self Exit out of all.
Così e Così got at me during the annual transition of numbers. Super nice dude. I imagine this won’t be the last we’ll be hearing from him. Also, Self Exit features a bit from Diamond Terrifier’s 2012 Kill the Self That Wants to Kill Yourself. Stream the full flavor of Self Exit by Così e Così below:
• Così e Così: https://cosiecosi.bandcamp.com
Super Saiyan Vol. 1
eeEEEeeee [in my Sicko Mobb Auto-Tune’d shriek]! From them dreadheaded prettyboyz out West in the Chi, Lil Trav and Lil Ceno, a.k.a. the imitable Sicko Mobb, comes an unexpected bestowal of a blessing for This New Year of 2014 — Hark! Super Saiyan Vol. 1, a Forgiato-skreechin’, Robin Jeans-sportin’, Kemo-walkin’ journey through the Molly-booted bubblegum of Chicago’s bop underground.
You’ve maybe already heard Sicko’s early YouTube buzzers like “Hoes Be Goin’,” “Remy Rick,” or “Fiesta,” with their endlessly cyclical melodies and footwork-fast BPMs, but the end of 2013 saw Trav and Ceno transforming into full-blown visionaries, setting a new standard for rap-sung insanity on the Lil Durk-featuring “Maserati” and pushing their poignant melodicism into irresponsible levels of gorgeousness on the Mudd Gang-produced “Remember Me.”
The point: even if you don’t like hip-hop, especially if you don’t care for drill, or, if you like music, tune in with Sicko Mobb, like, right now. K?
• Sicko Mobb: http://www.audiomack.com/artist/sicko-mobb-10