“Drink, Smoke, Breakup (L-Vis 1990 4D Vocal Mix)”
So this is technically a remix of a remake. The remake is here. The original is here). And okay, they all sound very much alike. But that feels intentional for Night Slugs bossman L-Vis 1990, as we all know that he could make some version with a crazy spliced up vocal or one where machine noises drown out Mila J. Somehow L-Vis does a bit of both of those things, while still completely preserving the lyrics.
The original “Smoke, Drink, Breakup” stands out because of Mila’s delivery of the main lyric. It’s evocative, but is it too on the nose? Maybe, but the excessive outpour of emotion on a simple lyric calls to mind early 2000s R&B, which seems intentional. L-Vis 1990 adds his own dichotomy, robotic cuts of Mila’s voice with actual machine noises, keeping it current while still maintaining that nostalgia.
Wildly freeing in the MECHANISM of time, imagination presents all sorts of swirls and blunders while caved in and trapped by the nature of ground. Pushing forward is used through echoes bouncing back to frightened and quivering ears. As there is no way out, being placed back into the womb – only this time within the Earth – a calculated coldness devours your mental stability and anguish sets in as pitch as the lack of color. The only direction is down. There MAY be no way out. Accept the hand of MARRECK. Pull your imagination out of that self and into the sounds.
Teetering on the brink of madness, stumbling seems way less violent when the lights have been squelched. Tumbling rocks point a way out. Echoes flood all sensibilities. The way the hair on your arm blows with an entombed wind is the only glimmer of hope. “I gotta get out of this,” you pray to MARRECK, but faith is merely seeing how far you can extend internalized trust. Willfully using the MECHANISM as guidance, the deeper you hear, the further you’ll arrive to reality: pure white-noised doom.
Telsa Tapes snagged MARRECK’s MECHANISM in fear of entrapment, then shared it with the world. Will you find your way out?
• Telsa Tapes: http://teslatapes.bandcamp.com
All I Have
The latest club drug coming out of Atlanta goes by the street name REKchampa. Its newest strain, a particularly potent variation known as All I Have, is noteworthy for its intense side-effects. Those under its influence twitch uncontrollably to the pulsating rhythm of ’90s house before falling into a powerful trance, which often leads to a deep catatonic state. Indeed, so unresponsive does the user become that his or her body may actually begin exhibiting rigor mortis. Remarkably, and for reasons not yet fully understood, despite (or perhaps because of) this stiffness, the body will then resume its rhythmic spasms and continue to twitch ad infinitum. This is thought to be the final stage of the usually-fatal high. However, some unverified reports have it that the subject may awaken, only reanimated in a zombified state.
Now in its 28th day, the zombie horde still shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon. And while many familiar establishments along Main Street are boarding their windows and shuttering their doors, at least one local club-owner says business has never been better. “I mean sure, drink sales are down, but the kids keep coming back to dance, night after night. I’m talking lines out the door. They’re dancing before they get in the place and they’re dancing on their way out the place after we shut down,” says Al D. Votion, proprietor of Harsh Riddims Blood Sucking Cassette Co. “If it keeps up like this, pretty soon I’m gonna have enough dough to buy myself a second dick!”
Ok, it’s finally here. Seriously, my main [maybe-computer] pal 회사AUTO has been dangling this album in front of me for months now, and Neon Beige is everything the past has left me within an unseen future. And no DOUBT American Apparel is paying out the WAZZOO right now for the copyright properties for the color name Neon Beige.
I’ve been a huge fan of 회사AUTO for quite a bit now, and how the project’s has changed from purposefully sounding like a melted ‘92 Macintosh Apple computer to utilizing a plethora of instruments to actual song writing, Neon Beige is merely just a dream in exactly 30 tracks. Also, it’s self released, along with the rest of 회사AUTO’s works on Bandcamp for your listening pleasure! So give the discography a good gander and feel the progression of sonics. Also, scope the release information in the block quote below!
We move fast; we step slow.
We fade, drift, wade, then go.
We are brightly neon, we are grimly beige.
Tedium and elation, in company then estranged.
What to do? Continue, persist, reap & sow.
The journey prevails with desire to know.
Oh, but 회사AUTO is 100% not DONE. Aside from landing every HOT-ASS feature on Neon Beige, there’s also a soon-to-be -TMT-published interview between 회사AUTO and me, thus proving a real existence and life force behind the project. COMING SOON!!
• 회사AUTO: http://auto-7.bandcamp.com
“Everyone On This Ship Is A Goddamned Liar”
Yeahhhhhhh. Put on a slab of unidentifiable static chaos like “Everyone On This Ship Is A Goddamn Liar” and react to its twists in structure like you would a particularly surreal high school romance anime. With nothing familiar to cling onto, assaulted by barrages of looped feedback and garbed vocal samples, the plot springs from the relation between each clashed passage. This man wants to take you on a journey, and there’s no guarantee it will be pleasant.
You enter the gymnasium and find the girl or boy or android you like (like, “like” like) is making out (like, really getting there all sloppy) with a firm bag of sand. Your loved one goes all tongue-core, and the bag of sand seems to reciprocate.
When the Spanish teacher calls on you to read the third paragraph of Borges’s “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius” aloud to the class, a clump of hair falls off of your head and onto the pages. You wipe it aside and more falls out. You ask to be excused, but have run out of passes.
You sneak up onto the rooftop for a cigarette and come face to face with a wild boar. He asks if he can bum one too. You sit, stroking his haunches and face area, as the two of you puff some death into your lungs. When you both finish your sticks, he throttles you.
Faangface (aka Cleveland-based multi-instrumentalist and Rubber City Noise co-honcho Joshua Novak) hands you the materials to construct any story you please, with the caveat of mandatory debasement. The story must be fucked. Everyone on this ship is a goddamn liar, but it could be much worse. I’ll take a human liar over a truthful lizard person any day.
• Faangface: https://soundcloud.com/joshua-novak