The Spirit Advantage of Nerftoss definitely is a “Truth Tackle” when you figure it out. Much like Adam Ferriss’ video for “Truth Tackle,” viewers perceive the Nerftoss reality through a filtered experience, but unabashed in perception. As we initially witness the shadow of an aircraft’s wing, the camera is positioned to watch the ground move quickly and vastly into the unexplored territory. Considering the digital manipulation of all the negative colors and smear, one can’t quite tell when the aircraft has lifted off, or has ever lifted off. Has it been in the sky since seeing the wings shadow? Are those clouds or particles of snow?
Questionable are the images in this here video for “Truth Tackle,” but so are most moments in Nerftoss’ new tape on Leaving Records, Spirit Advantage. Most of the time, I’m thinking about whether what I’m listening to is music or a dimensional stretch into the unknown. Then I feel my fingers are there, but not really, and the high of audible psychedelia sets in, as I’m certain something is crawling around my feet at work. Am I flying? Is this reality? Can I get much higher? All I know is Leaving Records should scrill up Adam Ferriss to make an album video for Spirit Advantage, cause I could watch “Truth Tackle” forever, most likely. Scope Leaving Records today for Spirit Advantage by Nerftoss and grip a tape (limited to 200) before they sell out.
Slam Skillet has been casually shelling out club-ready heaters for a minute now. His URL presence is keen and intellectual, embodying a fine-tuned purposiveness that manifests itself best in the consistency of his tracks. Slam takes the more direct, and arguably more confident, route of channeling his bass to your ears – self releasing a plethora of heady jammers and gut-punched rhythms that will move your feet for you. Whereas one might typically expect such an aesthetic to reside in the more commercialized and codified realms of the Beatport or Juno, Slam Skillet’s self-releases feel honest and direct, developing a systematicity of their own that sustains itself with little visible yearning for any third-party tether. His employment of animal phyla and genera in his track titles, for instance, delineates a certain personality that emphasizes club-empathy given the predetermined accessibility of his music.
Anyhow, the young Slam Skillet himself just popped a six-track EP out of nowhere, and I’m here to absorb and write about it. The assumed single, “Auroch,” embodies an increasingly extensive yet palpable technicality to Slam’s vibrations. A quick Google search of the track title leads me to images of a massively bad-ass bull, an empowering image immediately relatable to the powerful stomping in my earbuds. The track progresses with supreme confidence, elucidating sentiment of some extra-terrestrial tribal gathering, beyond cognitive comprehension yet physically strong and reverberant. The EP is available for purchase on Slam Skillet’s Bandcamp page. Peep “Auroch” below, you might sprout horns and find yourself bucking around on all fours.
• Slam Skillet: https://soundcloud.com/slam-skillet
Cloud Becomes Your Hand
“Sand of Sea”
From the creative vision of Nanako Tsuruta, comes a complete reimagining of Cloud Becomes Your Hand’s single “Sand of Sea” off their new album Rocks or Cakes. And what a site to behold, listeners. All the mythos and deep lore that Cloud Becomes Your Hand employs in their lyrics comes to life in cut up and colored visualizations, doctored in stop-motion animation and a variety of fan-fare smiles and shocks. Oh, the monstrous tidal waves. The blank face the moment that paddle sinks. Clams bugging out while saving the day. Mutation?! Don’t be surprised. Cloud Becomes Your Hand provides the perfect noodling and squirming to soundtrack the exact vision to fit their music. It ain’t uroboros, either. It’s the birth of a furred and tailed creature, a pet clam, and making otter-like moves.
Insane as the creativity pops off here in the video for “Sand of Sea,” that shell headed, one eye winged creature lives two doors down from me. Said he met Jesse Ventura once at a book reading about conspiracy behind the JFK assassination. In any case, Cloud Becomes Your Hand’s newest album Rocks or Cakes is available for purchase TODAY on digital and CD via Northern Spy Records and on LP via Feeding Tube Records. Both labels are RIGHT there on the cusp of brand new, crisp, and beyond sounds, so Cloud Becomes Your Hand nuzzles right into every nook and cranny of each label’s glove. Scope the video premiere for “Sand of Sea” below and head to these labels and grip Rocks or Cakes:
JOHN DOPE feat. Rahim Sahad
Like stickers slapped onto stop signs, DIRTY TAPES has an elusiveness which leaks very little information about its going-ons, despite being plastered all over the concrete walls of the Internet like territorial graffiti tags. SoundCoud embeds posted as quick as “street art” jobs drying in a cold breeze, while paint Tumble(r)s downward in crooked lines like a statement refusing to stay as small as the words that comprise it. “DIRTY TAPES 2014.”
I’m sure I remember seeing a list somewhere of upcoming releases from DIRTY TAPES nearly twenty deep. Couldn’t tell you where I found it. It’s long gone now. Like a leak that’s been plugged by quarter inch cables and snare hits. They’ve got to be sitting on gold, planning on a batch release massive enough to break the game, as if each of the label’s five split releases thus far haven’t SOLD way-the-fuck-OUT already. Hundredaires in the tape game, for sure.
All that being said, I have very little additional information to provide you regarding what the hell’s “For Real” about this JOHN DOPE track, besides the Tampa-based producer rolls in smoothly, sounding like Quasimoto slowed back down to normal speed over a bed of fuzzy yeah-boom-baps from Russian producer Paul Hares, after Rahim Sahad opens the whole thing, carving his own space out of the haze of tape hiss, and putting in the stops with those increasingly rarely-heard scratches. Stream below:
“DIRTY TAPES 2014!”
Somewhere between Grammy Award-winning disco revivalism and disco committing Promethazine-assisted suicide by bathtub drowning is the sound of Flamingosis, the self-titled album by Morristown, New Jersey’s Aaron Velásquez a.k.a. Flamingosis, whose name is taken from a freestyle frisbee move that was invented by the artist’s father, a former champion of the sport. At first, I thought the name was pronounced as one word, like halitosis, but then I thought maybe it’s pronounced flamingo-sis, but now after watching this video, I’m thinking it might be pronounced flaming osis. It all depends on how you hear it, I guess. Coincidentally, the same can be said for these tunes. Are they sample-based electronic pieces, straightforward beats, retitled remixes, or something else? It all depends on how you hear it. No matter how you do that, though, if track two, “1978,” doesn’t pump some life into your head, neck, and extremities, then you need to check yourself.