Whenever I find a track particularly energetic or enjoyably brutal, I usually tell people something along the lines of “this shit is so good it makes me want to break things” or “I just want to run around punching people while listening to this.” I always thought I was alone with these thoughts, but Radio People’s video for “Night Club” makes me think otherwise. At first, Radio People (a.k.a. Sam Goldberg) might not seem like your typical “let’s fucking destroy everything” type of artist, but listen closely to the sparkling synth lines of 2011’s Hazel and it becomes obvious that there’s a constant pulsating energy beneath the dulcet cosmic tones of the music; it’s not necessarily overtly violent, but it’s there. Musically, “Night Club” picks up right where Hazel (Mexcian Summer) left off, but this surprisingly “metal” video visualizes the energy hidden beneath the track’s ethereal surface by showing a gnarly dude with one hell of a beard breaking a lot of shit and, uh, drinking steak juice.
Watch the video for “Night Club” here:
“Night Club” is the title track off Radio People’s forthcoming cassette, due next month on Treasure Records.
Interesting. My retort to your “Mamma Cry” question, Mystikal: “Why have you been thrown in prison multiple times for sexual assault?” Like, at what point does a celebrity recognize s/he has just the same power as every other human being? For example, the power of patience more than need.
Okay, this IS Mystikal’s year. He’s been talking about how we all waiting for him. Not really bragging about WHY he was in prison, but just that he was and wasn’t rotting while locked up. I get it. YMCMB gets it. But it’s real fucking hard to enjoy a convinced sex offender’s art.
Yet I’m right there with him on not paying taxes and shit. That’s hardcore Wesley Snipes shit. And to completely change what I was saying before, maybe I am more interested in his work because potentially he’s changed, right? Years of prison. “And we beat the shit outta you.”
Art does reciprocate humanity and change. Always the question: is art created by evil just as desirable, if not MORE, than art created by good? You get joy with “good” art, and it’s easy to feel pleasant listening to it. It’s just way harder to create art that people may find attractively repulsive.
Not saying any of Mystikal’s music does this so far, but maybe it’s deeply rooted. And I’m totally not one to listen to lyrics and decipher their meaning. So, all in all, I’m glad Mystikal is back. I’ve been waiting a while, and this dude just belts years of silence into slices of nasty tracks.
I like how I’m writing all of this in short paragraphs. Does it make my shit look poignant? “Nah!!” On the real, when the FUCK is the Original LP hitting “stores?” I need it to rape my ears. Poor choice of words? Full-circle writing. I want an audio sample of my girl doing her Mystikal impression…
Cop Circles is one of the better names I’ve come across in the past few months, and I’m also delighted to realize it comes from Colorado, especially since this stuff fits so damn well with fellow Denverites Alphabets, Phonebooks, and Designer Air. However, Luke Leavitt’s stuff (that’s him up there, in front of the raging inferno behind the fabled Rhinoceropolis) seems to have a bit more of an overt samba flare to it, spicy piano licks and all. If you’re not jumping for joy by the time you’re through with this post, you’re doing it wrong. Which is to say, you must have forgotten to push the play button on the embedded clip below. Go ahead, now.
There’s a free collection of instrumentals in the link below, and watch out for a full EP from Cop Circles in the coming months.
• Cop Circles: http://copcircles.bandcamp.com
Lana Del Rey
“Chelsea Hotel No. 2” [Leonard Cohen]
Listen, I know I’ve given Lana Del Rey a hard time. I know. You don’t need to tell me. Every day I Google myself and discover, anew, voices calling me out on my cleverness (or supposed cleverness) and pedantry (regarding my opinions about Lana Del Rey [among others], which have been, if you permit me one moment to argue on my behalf, misunderstood, as I was never writing about her music at all, but about you, the listener, and me, the listener, and the images we’re sold, and the woman behind the image, and how isolating it can be for all of us, being mere images, bereft, etc.). But now I’m sitting here, alone, at night, watching Lana Del Rey sing Leonard Cohen’s “Chelsea Hotel No. 2,” and it doesn’t seem important to make a point (be it clever or pedantic). I’ve made enough points. Suffice to say, it’s a great song, and she covers it well. Don’t believe me? Watch for yourself.
Thee Oh Sees
The Minotaur never asked for his day job — or to be born, for that matter. He was the product of a sexual liaison between a bull and the queen of Crete, engineered by the ever-bitter Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. When King Minos of Crete wouldn’t part with his beloved, sacrificial white bull, Aphrodite decided to make his wife fall for the beast, and ol’ Minny was born as a result, doomed to live a life of chilling in his labyrinth, kidnapping maidens, and killing any interloper that dare enter. The ‘Taur life, according to Thee Oh Sees, is a lot less interesting — more day job than Dungeons & Dragons. Being a Minotaur is a job just like any other; dude has to punch the clock, make sure the prisoners are well fed, and decapitate any knights who amble in (there’s even a trash can for the noggins — company policy). And yet, our monster is a slacker: he’s sleepy, mostly, rather than scary; much of his time is spent loafing around in the break room, watching the tube and admiring the bovine babes he’s got plastered on the wall. But, as we learn, sleeping on the job is deadly, even if you’re a 6-foot, tattooed hunk of fur and muscle. Read the employee’s manual, guy!!