Joey Molinaro

“The Don Quixote Youth Brigade”

I went to a friend’s wedding recently, and at said wedding there was a DJ (a.k.a. a guy with a laptop) playing stringed versions of old standards throughout the night. T’was nice and appropriate. It’s too bad Joey Molinaro didn’t get a call, though, ‘cause that would have been a WAY different reception. Reeeeal intense and sweaty and scary. Instead of throwing the bouquet, the bride could have thrown Joey’s goat hoof leg rattler. Allow me to clarify. Last time I saw him, I nearly got smacked in the face by his homemade tambourine after it flew off his leg and was launched into the audience.

But enough about his crowd work; let’s talk about the man’s tunes. His latest CD — Say at Last- Who Art Thou? – is available now, and it’s a burner. Out of all the controlled chaos, “The Don Quixote Youth Brigade” takes the wedding cake, ‘least for me. Vocals of total fucking menace, bursts of drum violence, dissonantly distanced guitars, and Mr. Molinaro’s signature rapidfire foot stomps and corpse-nails-on-a-chalkboard violin squeals fill each second with terrifying madness. But that ain’t nothing new from the rest of the disc… so it must be… the variety of changes? Yeah, that’s why I really dig this one. Wow! A personal musical revelation right before your eyes.

He’ll be galloping around the US this summer, so try to catch him live, ‘cause if you haven’t had goat hooves almost hit you in the face, then you haven’t lived. Or maybe you have… how the hell should I know?

• Joe Molinaro:

fluff pup

“bae only knows”

Deeply tapped and hacked into all internet zones, through glitched out systems and wifi anti-algorithms, across grungy guerrilla hard-wired microwaves, fluff pup comes flickering out of 1s and 0s of sound. As I saw fluff pup in rare form via hologram within an abandoned Bedford Stuyvesant apartment/den, “bae only knows” trickled throughout the Brooklyn Wednesday-night skyline and reverberated the location so that windows and minds microscopically cracked. Blending between holographic image and a screen on the wall projecting the single edition of Mario Kart 8 featuring the driver fluff pup, comprehension of “What is a performance?” began to break my mentality as I was handed a controller, and was moving around the holoimage of the performer, rather than the character within the game.

On the straight LOW-LOW, fluff pup may have been actually mixing/producing live in Pittsburgh, and set up a handful of holo-shows across the world, one being in Brooklyn. Luckily, my thoughts we smashed in enough to barely understand what I was gazing into and (more-so) sonically becoming a part of. CUT TO: me on the beach, listening to Pet Sounds on my cassette player, I am roach deep on a previously thick BASEBALL SPLIFF, yet suddenly the reel is stretched to the tune of “bae only knows,” and I see a holo-effigy of fluff pup waving and fading into the ocean. The people next to me want a puff, but I’m all tripped up, so I flicked ‘em the end bit.

• fluff pup:



In the grip of bad desire, a dropped pick is unable to silence the hungry-hearted time travel of downz, a rock artifact from early Winter 2015. Behold a miraculous transmission via the future, a future that sounds like the past. GASHRAT’s three small fires fit in the tinderbox of rock drench. They aid recklessness and release.

Recorded into muscle memory, then seated and panned in the mix, the songs’ parts drift. Drift is the charmer here. The languid strums create variabilities that brush and nearly topple the partitions. The sturdy and stinted measures of rhythm and riff balance them.

“Median,” the centerpiece of this brief release, is a real sizzler. It is executed at a leisurely torso tempo and accompanied by the spirit of hophead loitering. The trio of assured guitars churn away with loose throttle, nudged by spare drums. It nearly wigs out, but remains on the grounds. The racing thoughts are confined to a cerebral space. The vessel is vital enough to handle malnourishment and volume, keen enough to dodge excess, strong enough to bend and flex, flagrant enough to arouse suspicion.


Dean Blunt

“New Project”

Dean Blunt’s Black Metal forthcoming on Rough Trade.

• Dean Blunt:
• Rough Trade:

Sicko Mobb

“Be With Me”

Bop is a total candy-fed blast from popsicle positivists in a splintered culture of drill and violence. It’s strength in an otherwise destructive environment. Bop is beautiful.

And arguably the most recognizable name in bop world Sicko Mobb (a.k.a. Lil Ceno and Lil Trav) are bringing summer to the city. They’re young and international and dropped the upbeat Super Saiyan Vol. 1 late last year, after inking a deal with Sony and capping a two-year span where Chicago took over the media for a variety of reasons.

Now they’re prepping Super Saiyan Vol. 2 and premiered a jam on the new DJ Moondawg-hosted We Invented the Bop mixtape. Titled “Be With Me,” Sicko Mobb’s newest super-pop ballad leads off another compilation from the growing future-first bop movement that features return acts SBE, Lil Chris, I.L Will, and newcomer/Vol. 2 standout Yemi Marie.

I hope Arthur C. Clark foresaw bop but decided to play it cool all those years, only to release its power postmortem. Kinda like the final stories of Salinger’s Glass family.

Man, I wish I could bop.

• Sicko Mobb:
• We Invented the Bop II:….



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CHOCOLATE GRINDER is our audio/visual section, with an emphasis on the lesser heard and lesser known. We aim to dig deep, but we'll post any song or video we find interesting, big or small.