A slip of the tongue and we’re off, loosely buckled in on a budget motion simulator. With the suction cup of a snail, and the glossitis of a disjunct-prone opera singer, a broken-in instrument briefly pantomimes the history of aviation. While the mouth nosedives, a stifled snicker or two escapes from behind the camera’s point-of-view. The film reel flaps; it nearly unspools. The old-timey post-production atrophies the action, yet fails to distance the dental intimacy of “interlude whilst.” For a mere frame or two, we are given a wider context; otherwise, this vocal video is claustrophobic, fast-acting, and… dental.
• Crank Sturgeon: http://www.cranksturgeon.com
“Ghost of Dipset” ft. Cam’ron
If pop music eats itself, à la Ouroboros, then rap music not only eats itself; it excretes its own partially digested form and comes back for seconds and thirds. That explains how Dipset and “Ghost of Dipset” can co-exist. This is not to say Smoke DZA is a shitty version of Cam or any Diplomat, or to disparage any rap artist in any way. Rather, I propose this analogy 1) as an excuse for posting this song months after it came out (my bad, caught sleeping), and 2) in an awkward attempt to make some kind of sense of the absolutely absurd engtanglement that is the Dame Dash/Funkmaster Flex/Peter Rosenberg/Chuck D/Combat Jack Show/Hot 97 Morning Show/Breakfast Club saga. If you know nothing about this ongoing debacle, consider yourself lucky. If you know anything about it and find yourself starting to take sides, just keep in mind that neither radio station would fit “Ghost of Dipset” or anything else off Dream.ZONE.Achieve into its regular rotation, and that Tiny Mix Tapes loves you the most. “Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.”
“The Pigsmilk Candycane”
So, as I’m a realist (LOL), I’d like to think that one day I’ll have a clan of kids (maybe my own; maybe not my own), but when I sift through my LPs, I’m always thinking which LPs would be good for my (future) kin as they grow up. Yeah, Apple Brains is solid pie. Maybe more Zappa than Beefheart, but both work. Definitely some Ween too. But now it’s at the level of buying LPs for kids while in my pre-kid stage. And they’re probably not even coming for another five years. Yet, in the mean time, I’ll know ALL the words to Grandma Sparrow & his Piddletractor Orchestra, which seems to be intended more for adults anyhow, but music-is-music, and gettin’ stoked on having fun is (not fascistly required anywhere, but…) FOR EVERYONE!!
“The Pigsmilk Candycane” is exactly what I’m talking about. It’s as though it was written to be sung at a camp for adults hosted/ran by children. Though, Grandma Sparrow has found an interesting way to traverse musical worlds and genres and listenership via theme. By making “The Pigsmilk Candycane” more like a sing-along creates an atmosphere for people to join in and experience a physically separated community – that may also be out there listening to it in their home, or at work – singing along with everyone else listening. Thus, if you’re looking for a good fucking time, grip the NUTS off Grandma Sparrow & his Piddletractor Orchestra and have a BLAST forever after via Spacebomb Records. Scope “The Pigsmilk Candycane” in the mean-time and let loose this Monday to the idea of having fun:
T o p $
“skirrrrrrrrrrt9 [with D. Neptune]”
Wait a hot minute, “skirrrrrrrrrrt9” is ONLY five minutes long? Whoa. I could’ve sworn I was listening to this for like half an hour at least. I don’t know: at what seemed to be about a minute-or-so in to the song, time started to kind of slow down. I started to feel heavy all of a sudden, the still, whist air became resistant to my movements, easy and smooth as they were. The synths washed over me like a tide coming in. I felt like a rogue cell floating through the blood stream, fluid, effortless backstroke through the plasma, bouncing from cell to cell. Mmmm, so based, T o p $ really hit the spot with this one. I’d even go so far as to say that this was tip-top (tip-top$? I’ll stop)(Sorry).
“Reebok Love” and four other wavy tracks have been locked in a password protected dungeon since November, waiting for a digi-heroine with Wi-Fi knowledge beyond their years to break them free from the hands of second-ife obscurity. Many fought, many failed before producer, singer, url lifer Wifi Princess — the friend who can feel the free Wi-Fi hotspot wherever they are, this world’s Old Yeller. She slides in with total love for LDR and jailbreaks the witch-hop quintet. Struggling to find them a home, [a future label] offers the five fugitives shelter in a beach side condo known to friends as Lust of Tears.
• Wifi Princess: https://soundcloud.com/wifi-princess