Future / Drake
“Where Ya At”
A red hat. Spaghetti. Drake rapping into a reflection. This video’s got it all.
“Where Ya At” is off Future’s Dirty Sprite 2 release. Review forthcoming.
“SELF DOUBT” / MEMOIRS
Always taking it one-step too far, but in the best way possible, Michael Green (director of the newest Beat D video, btw) is the first person to have created a Second Life avatar that composed a full-length album, which was entitled MEMOIRS. “SELF DOUBT?” I’m not playing with you, OMGv6.0 is taking over (SEE ABOVE).
Like, the entire thing composed in Second Life, MEMOIRS comprises those scapes you only see once, but run for miles within while dreaming. It’s a weird feel to play something virtual/digital for so long and traverse worlds seemlessly on a daily basis. Fucking Lawnmower Man. But also, one summer, I was such a shit talker online, the IRL world left me lost in four physical altercations. And drunk. Though, one can do anything within the URL of things. And OMGv6.0 is purely of self-made fame. The other day, I was chilling on my patio, and fucking OMGv6.0 just walks up, takes a beer (doesn’t ask), and rips the bong I had rolling. Seriously, I threw up data all over and my dog started liking it up: turned into an emoji dog meme gif. I started into the vacant, soulful eyes of OMGv6.0 and saw Michael Green smiling back. And then Being John Malkovich, so I left him there on a quest to find my second-self, listening to MEMOIRS in light of sound tracking my journey. Pure darkness is refracted light within a computer. Black holes only exist in technology.
“Written With Starlight”
(You Won’t Believe) …What the _______ heard while he was backside, cupped by the exotic palm of a satellite dish. His wrists and ankles were tied. His tongue was cut out. The new lice, mutations spliced with circuit and dazzle, made their entrance. The blinking clown nose on the radio tower made it plain: ON AIR. Chatter from dark southwest corners and angles passed through one another. Local chatter was provided by the local psychopath, the one who tied the other’s ankles and wrists. It was a formula and it worked. Some were afraid. All were transported.
An extreme vacation. A jaunt into the hollow and the haunt. The New Lice whispered the strict and absurd instructions, in a connubial language between their chatter and the psychopath’s, none of which could be obeyed while one’s hands and ankles were tied. New Lice made their entrance through the pores of constellations. More clown noses blinked. The noses were the only color, during a night that struggled to remain pitch-black.
• Unearth Noise: http://www.unearthnoise.com
Bury The Dog Deeper
To witness Hogg in action is to be won over, even against your own best judgement. Hogg obliterates judgement. The Chicago-based noise/primal rock/performance art power duo of Emma Sims and Hanna Elliott compel you to edge up close to the stage and figure out what exactly the fuck is going on over there, man, like, what could possib—
All manner of instruments, little amps, blocks of wood, tom-toms, sheets of scrap metal, unidentifiable implements, etc., cover the floor around them. Sims and Elliott trade each other guitar for drum sticks. Both are howling into a microphone. The individual building blocks of each “song” seem impossibly slight — maybe one molasses bass riff, maybe a whispered monologue, maybe an oscillator squealing into the abyss — and yet everything serves its foul purpose. The band’s new Bury The Dog Deeper tape, out now via Nihilist, succeeds as a full-length statement by virtue of its stripped down diversity, its commitment to rending your skull clean open over and over with as few tools as possible.
“Don’t you try to label me.”
“I’m a man. You’re not gonna stick your finger up my asshole and tell me you’re tickling my fanny.”
Sink too deep into Hogg’s corroded basement terrorzone and you might forget what makes “normal” music, or something, any good. I guess I forgot what makes normal music good a long time ago. Something makes it good, probably, but that something is not “the incessant pounding of a drum machine beat in tandem with a scuzzed out atonal riff, flecked by hellish screams,” so why bother ever going back?
• Nihilist Records: http://nihilistrecords.net/news.php
Live At Future Gallery [Berlin 02/07/2015]
Feel that tingling down your spine? That’s Goch, Live At Future Gallery [Berlin 02/07/2015], fucking up movement fluids and muscle spasms so thinking straight is merely an after thought. Breaching waves of shock, rippling off a roll taken because you felt like a flip would turn your eyes from jutting themselves back into their sockets. Seizing due to audio response than flickering light. Seeing a deity murdered with the form of sonic vibration. Pure holistic gore just gutted and strewn about the floor of that museum. Women dropping unconceived babies. Quantum Natives mapping out their next project in the back like this is tea-time music.
U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO U KNO.