cmov is a “young astral temple” making “trans dyke dream songs.” Identity is the new locality, but cmov is from Providence and that also matters, an affect hiding somewhere in these cavernous half-grimy half-clean chambers. The reciprocal exchange between the universal-as-internet and the personal/local/identity construct is messy, but libidinal flows are still where you want to be.
How is it that clipped vocals are still so seductive?
“You wanna play? You wanna know?” someone keeps asking.
“chariot” is post-most-things, meshing with those culture ghosts infecting the social ether, flirting with that evasive queer ambiguous vibe, but it seems important how erotically present it is.
“chariot” is from cmov’s upcoming cassette, which is titled “beyond rejection.”
cmov’s “chariot” is accurately titled. it can be yr new jam.
“The pleasure is all mine, doctor,” he says existing the office around the back, rolls a joint, and coughs a cloud into the sky just minutes before work. Coffee tastes burnt, always: now. Inhalants is at an all time Should-I-Bake-It-Instead?. Feels like that dude’s tits walk out his ass. Like that spoof of Star Trek when they teleport and Spock’s head is a butt pimple. Or a really beige shirt on beautifully-dark, natural skin. And it’s just enough time for another lefty-loosie around the bend of a rotund building. Your phone’s been buggin’ since it was dropped in the shower last night, and Pedicure Records’ pd-s1 begins to shred away your speaker to the fragmented zone of “ACTIVIA BENZ.” How does it feel, at all:
Have you ever played hopscotch? You know, the game where you drink a bunch of scotch and watch that movie HOP on repeat? If you have, I’m proud of you. If you haven’t, grow the fuck up and be somebody.
Wait a minute. That’s horrible advice. Instead of that stupid idea, why not spend your free time listening to Patrick Piper’s latest cassette, Bye?
It all begins with his white-walled, clarity-massacred guitar loops, building and sponging up your happiness. Then, a tattoo needle and/or neon sign begins buzzing intermittently and constantly within the mix. Next, jolts of percussive chair tosses and scraps start riding shotgun. Finally, frail and sullen guitar drones drone out into infinity, as they are know to do, and wash away all of your “aboutness”, letting you breathe without thinking about breathing.
Listen to the whole thing below (WHY DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY THIS ANYMORE?!@), and grap a copy of the tape right here.
Opal Tapes comes through again. Xosar, who played a bananas Boiler Room set with FOUR (!) Electribes solo-bottoning the shit out of the room, has made a name for herself with a string of 12-inch releases on L.I.E.S. and Rush Hour. But Let Go is her official debut. Part four in their Black Opal series, the vinyl-dedicated Opal Tapes sub-label where varying degrees of house and techno congregate and merge into each other, Xosar’s deep, brooding house slots in nicely with Patricia’s throbbing fizz, Cloudface’s coffeehouse groove, and Ñaka Ñaka’s subterranean sudor.
☐ After serving us Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner last week, Chef Gucci Mane is topping it all off with the short and sweet Dessert EP. Bon appétit!
☐ Gucci Mane has released a new EP called Dessert, which follows the one-two-three punch of Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. Check it out below.
☐ WOW, wtf!? Gucci Mane just released ANOTHER mixtape. Oh, oh, it’s just an EP. But still — the guy is fucking CRAZY. LOVE IT.
• Gucci Mane: http://www.guccimaneonline.com