Yesterday, at a meeting during work, my boss used the phrase “SUCKED HARD” – a phrase I’ve definitely heard before. It was SUCH a boring meeting, I began thinking about the origin of the phrase. One conclusion I drew was the obvious sexual one where you’d blow your (male OR female) load ‘cause someone giving head is going to town. The second basis I figured was it had to do with Garth. Then, I began SUPER spacing out, and the third idea I had was deep dark matter black hole vortexes that just completely matter smash everything. I started nodding to nothing, my boss thought I was agreeing with her, and now I’m heading this totally fucked social media project for work that I have no idea where it should go ‘cause I was thinking about “SUCKED HARD” instead of actually paying attention. And that’s where “Different Days” comes in…
If I had watched The Men’s video for “Different Days” prior to the meeting, I’d have a better understanding of the phrase “SUCKED HARD.” Why does it “SUCK HARD?” Just watch the video and play man-boy BINGO. Like, the positive here is that The Men would’ve already given me the knowledge of something “sucking hard,” in terms of never wanting to hear or watch “Different Days,” and bringing the song up on my mind grapes again would have been immediately halted. As well, I wouldn’t be here writing this cry-baby shit and I’d be actually working on this new project. NOT to tell people what to do either, ‘cause I try to save my fascism for the highway, but Ben Greenberg should’ve just made another solo album instead of this. ALSO, maybe Sacred Bones Records should’ve just released this on one analog format instead of three (LP/CD/CS). Anyhow, you can grip The Men’s new album Tomorrow’s Hits via Sacred Bones Records now. Scope the video above and educate yourself!
I’m kinda hoping the next mixtape by Chief Keef is entirely as ridiculous as his new track “Shooters,” while following the wastedness of Almighty So. Blurry machine gun abstraction. Pretending to “Watching a master at work,” but really just HEARING it. Plenty of Keef chorals randomly yelled in the background. Pretty much a smashing of yin and yang. Like, complete with that head on collision style. And plenty of dancing/grinding. Just keep in mind:
Male movements serve as courtship signals in many animal species, and may honestly reflect the genotypic and/or phenotypic quality of the individual. Attractive human dance moves, particularly those of males, have been reported to show associations with measures of physical strength, prenatal androgenization and symmetry… Nineteen males were recorded using the ‘Vicon’ motion-capture system while dancing to a basic rhythm; controlled stimuli in the form of avatars were then created in the form of 15 s video clips, and rated by 39 females for dance quality… In summary, we have identified specific movements within men’s dance that influence women’s perceptions of dancing ability. We suggest that such movements may form honest signals of male quality in terms of health, vigour or strength, though this remains to be confirmed.
Then there’s where my Grams stayed for a minute, but apparently JUST MISSED the action.
• Chief Keef: http://www.chiefkeef.com
“Gotta Make The NBA”
Dearest Lil B,
Could you make the NBA? Currently, I do not watch sports, but if you were ballin’ in the big-league (or your OWN made league), I’d watch you EVERY game. Mostly, it’d be because I’d need context for deep mixtape volumes of life as a legit player. Not only do I hope HOOP LIFE becomes a reality, but I hope it becomes your first album. How do you think you’d maintain the based-freestyle life in the NBA, though? You might need to draw upon the BasedGod’s ability as deity to continue driving your entity as ALL SKILLS and HARD HITTING. But I’ll take my notes. Continue to be my teacher. Class is ALWAYS in sesh with you, my man.
Jónó Mí Ló
“End Of Light #8”
Dah!!!!!!!!! You can practically smell the cheap green in this new track “End Of Light #8” by Jónó Mí Ló. Lingering the Oregon District’s back yards. Finding a box of small bullets on the sidewalk. Tryna stop Rachel from driving off drunk, but she stops herself in a ditch. Nights gone crazy dancing to tracks like “End Of Light #8” out on the bricked road main street that’s MAYBE two blocks long. Bird tunnels. The playground behind two bars.
Jónó Mí Ló’s music always pumps me up. It’s VERY MUCH any-time music. The morning time is lit with smiles and fluidity. My works gets fucking DONE while listening in the afternoon. Night time is totally buzzed out to his shredding of sounds. Fuck, and all around, knowing he’s from the same shit location I’m from makes that “shit location” all the more memorable/nostalgic. But as Dave Attell states, “You know what’s a fun thing to do [in Dayton, OH]? Pack up and get the fuck outa there.”
At any rate, Jónó and I made it out, but on different coasts. But as he says, “Dayton gave me a crazy hustle zone, for sure.” So scope his hustle zone in “End Of Light #8” streaming below, which is just a slice of Jónó Mí Ló’s newest release End Of Light on HOKO Sounds (OUT SOON):
It’s so late. The streetlights should have come on by now, but the block is dark. Marie Davidson stands out in the street, still, facing your front door. You peek through the blinds every six minutes. She has made it her personal mission to prevent you from sleeping. She has tactics:
1. The spectral monologue.
2. The inducing of nightmares.
3. The intimate knowledge of your intimate knowledge.
4. The beats.
5. The cyborg synths.
6. The church organs.
7. The hypnosis.
Work up a quick life-flash-before-your-eyes montage before you queue up “Perte D’identite,” and watch, helpless, as Davidson peels away your memories as the rind of a fruit. Her matrix of intertwined synth hardware pulses and breathes, modulating your heartbeat into step. Your eyelids sag. If you don’t understand her whispers, you glean their intention. If you don’t follow her train of thought, you aren’t focusing hard enough. Davidson’s elegant amalgam of dark ambient textures, clattering technoid rhythms, and vocal incantations soundtracks your night sweats, your persisting illusions, your clawing for the doorknob. Her synth arrangements seethe and evolve as the clock ticks. Her voice beckons you outside. You look down to see your body moving on its own. Let her win.