“#RockthatRock” (Official Ring Pop Music Video)
My coworker and I arrived at Gramercy Theater around 3PM and started setting up, but there wasn’t really anything to do. She (full-time) and I (occasionally) work for this company that rents out photobooths for events, although actually it’s more of a backdrop than a photobooth. The idea is that people get their picture taken and it prints a little logo (called the “overlay” in industry speak) of whatever company hired the booth on top of the picture, in this case Ring Pop.
Ring Pop not only hired the photobooth to promote their product, but also this teen sensation band called R5 to write a song about Ring Pops, called “Rock That Rock.” The ring is the rock, you should display it proudly, or “rock it,” but also it’s a pun on rock music, you get the idea.
“Stand over there.” My friend instructed; it was time for some test shots, with yours truly as the subject. I put on some oversized glittery glasses (one of the many photobooth props) and a sequin fedora for good measure. When you laugh at work, you’re never sure if it’s a real laugh or just an attempt to convince yourself you’re not miserable.
Suddenly, the hundreds of preteen girls that had been lined up outside Gramercy Theater, stretching all the way around the block down Lexington Ave., came stampeding in en masse. We still weren’t fully set up, which didn’t matter since precisely zero of the girls in attendance cared in any way about getting their picture taken, or anything other than being as close to the band as possible, and several fights almost broke out over who got to be a few inches closer to the stage.
The lights go dim. A video comes on. The official “Rock That Rock” video, followed immediately by the band’s much applauded entrance onto the stage, who then played the exact same song live. They played about a half dozen songs. They looked like they sort of cared. They would slip in and out of self-awareness of their own status as a boy band, extremely popular, but with little to no artistic credibility, destined to be replaced by the next big thing in probably less than a year, but also aware that their alternative would be working some shitty day job, i.e., mine. Me and R5 were both stuck working at Gramercy Theater that day, but they were on stage and probably making a lot more money than I was; probably they figured that Rocking That Rock was a decent gig and they went for it. I don’t blame them.
There was also a little temporary tattoo both, free popcorn and soda, and some people giving out Ring Pop T-shirts. Of all those hired groups, I’m proud to say that we were the first to get the hell out of there, and in record time, out the door by 6:30 or so. “Say 8:00 on your invoice,” she told me, and I did.
The coolest thing I’ve seen in a little while was driving along seeing a fellah on a chopper (complete biker get-up; the works) nod to a dude smoking a cigarette outside O’Flannery’s pub who nodded back. Totally lamest cool EVER. This reminds me of the new FAMILY EVENT DEMO TAPE, which I’m totally late to, but to my glee, there were a few reels left.
Anyhow, this DEMO TAPE reminds me of that event because it’s just two cool dudes (aaronmaxwell & James Matthew) noddin’ back and forth, no? And not only is it all about how random they can make the sweetest fucking beats feel like Tyson fists, but the lamer the sample, the cooler the rhythm gets. Thus, FAMILY EVENT has gathered again, and reels are becoming uncontrollable.
FAMILY EVENT’s DEMO TAPE has been out since late April, but there are some left and it’s worth the C20 to crank on straight infinity flip:
GIVV - -
Have you ever seen that wacked-out Cronenberg movie Dead Ringers? If you have then your quite familiar (unfortunately) with that nightmare scene, where Jeremy Irons’ character dreams that he’s conjoined to his identical twin brother via some freakish, varicose-y mutant umbilical cord, and then his girlfriend, in an attempt to separate them, viciously sinks her teeth into it and almost tears them right apart. It’s nasty stuff.
It’s kind of like this GIVV, NAH project, in that it’s nasty as fuck! A brutal, balls-to-the-wall concoction of filthy, cacophonous beats and straight up grimy-ass MC’ing. I can’t say I’m too familiar with rapper GIVV, but it’s nice to finally hear some ill vocals accompany NAH’s sounds. I’ve been digging his output for a while now, he’s been putting in work for a long-ass time on that solid DIY game.
I am a bit late on this release though [Editor’s Note: you’re good! :)], I only kind of skimmed through it on first listen for some reason, hella stoked that I revisited this bad boy, however. But anyhow, check it out below, and if your heart so desires, you can go on ahead and cop this goodness for absolutely nada.
Sparkling Wide Pressure
“A Structure Collapsing in on Itself”
What threw me off at the get-go is I’ve been listening to so much of this anti-beat beat scene music that I initially thought this was going to be along those lines. And the track title, “A Structure Collapsing in on Itself” gives a sort of sampled and reused idea of an intentionally faulty foundation. Yet, seeing how Sparkling Wide Pressure has been using loop magic and ambiance manipulation for centuries (really, just years) now, I figured there was a sort of head nod into me free-styling at my desk while a tiny A/V-HS manipulated video plays out in my Jolly Rancher-gazed eyes.
But “A Structure Collapsing in on Itself” by Sparkling Wide Pressure turns into something way more beautiful and psychedelic than diminishing rhythms, and surprisingly attunes every chakara within your being, and upon the ninth listen – I heard from an extremely reliable source (i.e., no I didn’t) – you’ll being to float away from the mundane of your day and drift into a bliss that only Tranquility Tapes knows, fronts, and supports on a collectively healing level. Sparkling Wide Pressure’s newest cassette Dream of Windows will be released early July on Tranquility Tapes. Become beyond with Moduli TV’s video of “A Structure Collapsing in on Itself” below:
Q///Q muffles the microphone, withholding secrets under its breath, finagled by stuffy delay. Toms and tambourines are die-cast; the stiff skeletons of hi-hats and rimshots strain through the molten lattice.
Further back, past the reticent vocalist, past the percussion molds, synthetic strings progress. They are distant, abandoned by their orchestra, nodding off in their surroundings, for a split second at a time, in spite of their melodic responsibilities. They are the weight and balance to Jardim’s coolheaded passages.
Jardim’s five sketches are cohesive: in tone, in texture, and in brevity. Their brevity causes desire for elaboration to well up inside of the listener. Starting with “Gom Gom” right through “Tourada A Corda,” the listener is settled in, prepared for a long ride in Q///Q’s compact. But, in a flash, the ride is over; the secrets are preserved; the rope is recoiled; the bull is at rest.