Live-Fi :: Top (1)8: The Re-Up, Recoded – Lily Allen’s No Shame Tour, Buckhead Theatre

biorhythmic, Live, TK:ATL, Vinyl Cut Prose

[Lily Allen’s] understated introduction to the world was that Saturday morning wake-up from the flashy Friday night of .com 40 puffery. Fear not: all isn’t lost in the MySpace generation; for the ten thousand avastars, there is Lily Allen: the reason, that just so happens to rhyme with silly. So, allow she to reintroduce herself…

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Wednesday night, amidst Atlanta’s metropolitan backdrop of ubiquitous development, and the internal company of a most eclectic motley crew of New South denizens, Buckhead Theatre became the stellar soundboard for Lily Allen’s latest iteration, No Shame.

The Scene: Lily’s setlist spanned eleven years of the Wordsworth of the MySpace Generation’s rhythmic discourses and dialogues by-way-of Pop lyricism; line by line, the audience retraced the footsteps and and soundtreks that led us through said decade of lucid chances… oscillating fame, and independent identity lost and found.

mood:ring :: rhapsody in muse

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: onyx views and new world vantages, terra nova upon alchemical wings of indigo angels… manifest movements with divine ministers and mainframe muses… synchronous rhythms and rhapsodic blues

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mood:ring :: “inner outer views”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: lifted and gifted, stealth serenades with star-crossed silhouettes and soul-flame renegades c/o @hijackart 

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mood:ring :: “supersonic tint, cosmic disguise”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: silhouette sockets and corner pockets, windows to the soul all in the palm… hand-eye coordination station c/o @evanyorkart #lightguisezeitgeist

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mood:ring :: “release the cosmogony”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: motion imagery halfway between the silicon glitch and source periphery, mossless lossless c/o @artworkbyartlord 

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The Nativity, The Passion, The Pascha Pop Soul of Lady Gaga’s “The Cure”

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

Live from the Calvary that is Coachella, welcome to this Pop Communion that is The Cure …

The-Cure

Feels, on, reals.

So it is and, again, here we are… and #againagain I don’t really know where to begin or end with this one as again again again there is no beginning or end to the perpetual Pascha that is “The Cure.” I still haven’t figured it out yet, but I enjoy musing in the meantime… #fortherecord #noneofthisisbinding #itsalljustmakebelieve #dontciteme

On the seventh day, Gaga had finished this work of creation, so she put to rest this Famous curse…

The Pretense

So, “The Cure.” I guess, broadly, briefly, it feels like… surrendering into the unknown abyss after a forty-day desert trek, only to find… that the hard-fought rock bottom was but a bridge, all along, before that luminous cloud rocket number nine.

mood:ring :: “the greatest soul dream cure of all”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: musing future movements with capeless crusaders, evolution revolution on-call with pint-sized guerrilla prismatics c/o @mrbrainwash

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mood:ring :: “the final cut must show on”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: raising the curtain on goldenrod rhythms and hollywood hymns with scene animators… c/o @chaz_bojorquez x @og_slick 

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mood:ring :: “new beat vibes”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: scribing the dance of denizen chameleons and the art of camouflage backdrops with urban guardians c/o @hushartist 

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SnappScenes: “John Wayne,” Lady Gaga x Jonas Akerlund [Work Tape]

A.V Hub, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

Pretense: I never really got around to developing this one (thus the “[Work Tape]”), but for the sake of the record… 160-second snap reaction from the day they emptied this clip on the digisphere

***

So, it is, and here we are #againagain Hollywood corpses, technicolor torches, muscle cars, and glorified blaze-bound stars: Lady Gaga’s back with another sonicscape of cinematic audiobiographical bombast – kiddies, let’s get high #scenethespace

Fair pretense: Every track on Joanne is entirely autobiographical (full-stop got it, full-stop great) that said –

mood:ring :: “some might say i echo moonbeam levels”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: traversing future movements with valkyrie trilogies somewhere between valhalla and cerulean ocular canopies c/o @pamgood2 @drsc0

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mood:ring :: “starchild to 5th dimension, it’s augustine code”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: architectural alchemical dia del sol sessions with language artists and rhapsodic blues c/o @retna

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mood:ring :: “memory of a free human after all”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: telepathic televisuals and inversive innervisions, channeling anatomical retrospectives with human starmen c/o @drsc0 @d7606art @voxxromana 

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Letters to a Pop Poet: “Million Reasons”

Soundtrek, TK:LA

Welcome, welcome back… #howdypartner

So it is, and here we are … again, again. Another release, another write to go left… I still can’t help it, it just happens; I still love my life, I still love this record, and yet, I still don’t like pretense, that said —

Pretense:

So, since Joanne “is like, you know, Lady Gaga if you erase all the fame,” which is all well and good and full-stop brilliant, and since we know for sure the album is an entirely autobiographical work from the lady behind the fame, you might ask:

“What’s the point in delving into a work which said lady has already placed meaning and quite fully explained?”

(Likely in not so many syllables, but you’re not me elaborating on what you, an imaginary reader, might or might not say or do, so, alas, I digress, proceeding…)

I like conversations and dialogues #shockofallshocks There’s always an alternate perspective, an element which has not been brought to light, that other manner in which something can be read, regardless of if at the genesis it was “right.”

So, here, I didn’t go into “Million Reasons” with any rhyme or reason to wax or wane poetic, and it would be disgraceful to critique or analyze an autobiographical work as such (I mean, how, can you possibly judge someone else’s expression of their perspective on their own life). I didn’t intend to write about it, it just… happened. I was making breakfast, pouring over coffee, and a verse into the tune, it hit me: Rilke.

lg-rmr

mood:ring :: “diamond mind making nature scene”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: dream awhile, scene awhile, studio side prophets over profits with siddhartha c/o Restitution Press, “photography for pleasure or profit…” #dontuseyourfilmforuglypurpose 

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Ciao Manhattan… Sunset Genesis in the Living Lens of Perfect Illusion

biorhythmic, Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

Three years later: Perfect Illusion; welcome to the new testament.

^

#literallytheonlyfeaturedreferencedirectlyexplainingwhatanyofthatmeans

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Perfect Illusion, as its own release is a mirror, an aural gaze inside the disco boulder of sonic self-realization. Building scene from a grain of salt, mother of pearl emerging from this her world oyster, three lifetimes later emerges the post-pressurized diamond, setting sail from Shangri-La, steady rolling along the PCH with a rhythmic detour down Laurel Canyon, from rebel hippie rock through the Sunset Strip’s Electric Ladyland until we settle in the gapless gallivance of Xanadu’s disco wonderland – that living pantheon for all Angeles-bound-and-stellar-bred cosmic artists.

That boulder, that diamond, that crystal gem here finds its sonic identity in the literal pop; that cataclysmic synthesis of hard rock and disco inferno – that blast to birth the boulder’s mirrored glass.

So here, as its own entity, Perfect Illusion is the synergy of Golden Coast tones maximalized and harmonized with that most signature human chord, to the point of genre eradication in the face of just well-crafted tribal opus soundtracking. Rock, Folk, Disco, R&B (check the background vocals, kids, some kind of rhythmic blue), together, in a manner most-threatening to the sonic status quo… any time we merge those most marginalized Canyon dwellers, city slickers, urban denizens, soulmen, cosmic dancers, punk rockers, jazz cats, and funk grooveallegiant together in that secret space of aural invisible, we usurp the very system that gentrifies through genre and “mainstreaming.” Welp, with Mark Ronson, Kevin Parker, BloodPop, and Josh Homme (get it, Queens of the Stone Age… get it, Radio… Gaga… Queen… of the… never mind) on soundboard as the latest four Gospel Unicornmen of the Apopcalypse squad: buckle up buttercup, bricks-and-string are back on the airwaves #catchthebeat

Perfect Illusion, as the lead single of a comprehensive record album, is the first law of universal dynamics; the Law of Mentalism: the all is mind, the universe is mental.

mood:ring :: “the cool brew”

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: ears open, eyes wide, tell a scope touring with the mellow yellow tribe c/o @gift.davis 

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The De Jure, The De Facto, The Glory of Britney Spears’ Tribal Gospel

Soundtrek, TK:LA

First things first: #HOWCANYOUREADTHISTHERESNOPICTURES
Second things next: Sort it out, education is the motivation #Literacy #ImaginationPassport #GetToWork
Here's a motion picture, focus and find your chill #letsread

Here’s a motion picture, focus and find your chill #letsread

*And now: our regularly scheduled programming*

So… in the two years and miscellany of months since Britney Jean… many dramatic learning scenarios have unfolded… for the shown world, and both a one Miss Britney Jean Spears, and mutually exclusively, myself #swiperitsnotaboutyou #iknow #itsalwaysbeenaboutdora #yesiknow #everypopstarisdora #igetit #keepitmoving #peoplearetryingtoreadhere #wellnotherehere #noonereadsthis #probablybecausetherestoomanyinsecurehashtags #anyway

Much like Britney Jean, said Spears nor myself have anything to prove in this latest iteration… except the reality that we live our lives as tales to be told, we record said lives to manifest alchemical gold, and beyond any and all else, we eclipse the great with the good, and actively oppose the established fallacy that human lives are nothing more than fails to be sold… which, effectually, is the everything; because Glory finds and founds itself in the amplified actualization of De Facto over De Jure Millennial Pop music culture identity, it breeds: I applaud and advocate for Glory; because I, along with a camaraderie of unbeknownst-to-us-then-undeniable-to-the-world-now Army officials, find and found the self in this relentlessly resilient tribe of born-and-bred Millennial Pop music culture creatives, I proceed.

Vinyl Cut Prose // Be Scene: Lady Gaga, “I Want Your Love” (#TFWSS16)

Soundtrek, TK:LA

Whatever this is… – all of it. Forever and always. #andthatsallweneedtosayaboutsaidthus #always #paris #with #kids #these #daze

pretense: if only all covers projected couture #hauteculture #immerseinthepresent

If, If, I were to blinkk this I’d probably say… Disco Heaven, lucky sevens, “‘Bad Romance’s bigger, badder, bolder older sister, the one who apprenticed under Baudrillard, and eloped with Josephine Baker one artful midnight in the city of lights – that older sister,” genes and jeans, harlows sprawled along quicksilver silkscreens, poetry in motion, paucity exposed gilded within, break beats, parisian heat, always Paris with artpop stars, bars and brilliance, every motion masterpiece a time and space void of twain…

always the anthem, all alone, because to go through life like a karate kid, eyes dream infinitely of love supreme… haus chic, somewhere basquiat and reagan… somewhere on sandbar 45… soulboxing with the luminaries… serving with edie and mcqueen, plato’s atlantis persephone’s renaissance, pandora’s fanmade scene… hemlines and basslines, well-tailored tempos… this is artpop as much as it is the fame as much as it is the electric kiss manifest boogie elastic…

mood:ring :: dancing apocalift float

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: rooted in cardiac rhythms beneath stellar canopies c/o @obeygiant 

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East Angelean Echoes and Transatlantic Tempos… Little Boots’ Working Girl Promo Tour, Live at The Echo

Live, Soundtrek, TK:LA

The Siren: Victoria “Little Boots” Hesketh

The Sound: Synthpop, nu-disco, deep house, electro house… mercurial melange of old and new

The Scene: East Angelean echoes, deep bass, dark clothes, dim lighting, disco flying, summer swelter, low-key shelter, electronic dance shows, less wubba wubba, more water cooler… minimalist staging, maximalist sound, in a way that pulls facade from the corporate tower and floods the underground… america is all show business, and we cosmic dancers are all working girls…

audiobiography: we are mortals

Audiobiography, Interview, Soundtrek, TK:LA

wami-e

WE ARE MORTALS® is an evolutionary gender-free urban streetwear brand.

We call ourselves MORTALS because we are the ones who understand the brevity of human life and the need to live it fully and limitlessly. We also believe that as MORTALS, we’re all equal. That is why we created our brand around this idea of a future in which we wear our personalities, not our gender identities or other stereotypicl labels.

Coining the phrase ‘The Future Has No Gender,’ WE ARE MORTALS® seeks to challenge the conventional and outdated his/hers formula of clothing design and retail. In the future, there will be room to exist in a ‘gray area’ in which our identities don’t rely on gender, sexual, or racial classification. Ultimately, we hope that by removing the traditional gender designations from our clothing, we can facilitate a cultural shift in the way we view gender, sexuality, and each other.”

wam4-anjbi

WeAreMortalsliving soundtrack, sonic couture for the post-structural human culture, in founder Anji Becker’s own words…

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(W) orld Town – M.I.A: “M.I.A. is an artist that speaks up for causes, represents underprivileged people in the world. she’s fearless, a powerful woman who doesn’t accept traditional gender stereotypes.”

Lyrically Speaking: “Tom’s Diner,” Giorgio Moroder + Britney Spears

Soundtrek, TK:LA

Good music speaks volumes… rather than impose analysis, step back and expose linguistic artistry… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking

“Tom’s Diner”Deja Vu (2015)

da-da-doo-do da-da-doo-do
da-da-doo-do da-da-doo-do

da-da-doo-do da-da-doo-do
da-da-doo-do da-da-doo-do

da-da-doo-do da-da-doo-do
da-da-doo-do da-da-doo-do

I am sitting
In the morning
At the diner
On the corner
I am waiting
At the counter
For the man
To pour the coffee
And he fills it
Only halfway

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mood:ring :: stage fruition

#mood #ring, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

mood: coffee in the canyon, high tea on the hills… sunrise over silhouettes … c/o @theblakhat @wrdsmth, “hollywood has been resting on its laurels far too long.”

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The Hills are Alive… with the sound of muses

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

I riffed on The Sound of Music tribute at The 87th Annual Academy Awards Ceremony for ten minutes and twenty-eight seconds: this is the verbatim transcription…

So it would seem the hills are alive with the sound of music… the Hollywood Hills to be exact, this night, this beautiful night, Oscar Sunday… and amidst all of the flashing lights, Mother Monster, the pop mistress, the matriarch of music on behalf of a flailing industry – thought to be dead thought to be gone, thought to be sold out – rose to the occasion only to prove that all the charlatans were dead wrong.

Music is that which cements the experience of any moment, that auditory moment where those aural architects, as I said before, are able to manipulate the invisible… to be able to tap into those currents and those frequencies that you cannot see, but that you can feel stronger than any other sensory experience you’ve ever felt before… when you close your eyes, and you can feel your heart beat. When you close your eyes, and you can feel the goosebumps rising; when you can feel that ugly duckling becoming that beautiful swan, rising above it all because it found the rhythm, and it could never fall – it would falter – but never off that cliff never to never be seen again…

Audiobiography: Swiper

Audiobiography, Soundtrek, TK:LA

I’m an audiophilic one, like many. I love and live my music. Music is the score of said life. So, a playlist sonic biography of the slightly younger, significantly wiser self. Mood music … immune muses … Just a spin in the soundtrack of swipe’s life… Enjoi.

I see in sounds: my selfie is a soundtrack.

***

The (S)tar Spangled Banner – Whitney Houston [1991]

Pledge allegiance. The dawn, the genesis. Born stellar.

*

(W)ho Do You Think You Are – Spice Girls [1996]

When this launched, who did I think I was… who did I perceive myself to be… well, I was a bouncing Baltimore baby, the charmed second, bite-sized cerebral stellar body in orbital training, traversing the globe from within the four walls of my elementary boudoir. Reach up, maintain soul, get down, claim control… move, swing, shake, for life, for lyric, for rhyme, or reason (whichever’s in season): a la mode, a la monarchy, nine years young, forever the groovy one… cheers.

Vinyl Cut Prose: “Pneumatose”

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose, Vinyl Mind Flow

sc-pop-i

I date many things… cities, sounds, dreams. These things happen. When I date sounds, it is a full-stop courtship: get to know their interests, their background, their dreams, with whom they engage, do they have siblings, where do they post up to get down – can they read. These things. Eventually, the dalliance fades and something worthwhile is made. Eventually, we mix a master, and reverberate rhythms of the most loyal low-fidelity.

All of this is to say, I mingle with sonic musings. I’m a made match for muses. What does a first date sound like? Like the first take. It’s slow on the uptake, but fairly deliberate. It finds a track it grooves with, and explores it from myriad angles, pitches, and plays. We talk about life, shared experiences, we find lyrical camaraderie and beat-driven commonality. We find freedom in the music. There’s liberation in improvisation. You take an understood foundation and say: “I know you, you know you – here’s how I hear you, here’s how you appear to my ears… Here’s how the finished product unravels into the unknown.”

It gets weird. It remains inspired. It leaves few scores unsettled. It’s somewhat manic. It’s experimental. It is not interested in how you move, more so in the guarantee that you move and what compels you to move at all. It, takes, its, time.

Vinyl Cut Prose: EAU DE GAGA – A FILM BY STEVEN KLEIN

A.V Hub, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

Black and white, oft-tread and well-read. Speak easy, swing hard. Record this life in absolute truth, to mine the media and peak the press, to establish mint, you brilliant bard.
#youmeansallofyou

If… IF I were to blinkk this I’d probably say … Fame Kills … like chewing on pearls oysters and aphrodisies, flights of fancy and fights of fantasy … drunk in love on cake cake cake … love made edible incredible Anna Mae … the chosen one selecting apparent wanderlust servitude … will and desire … grace to transpire … mental gender on Parade … bonfire of the Vanity Fair … Parisian blazes … Harlem faces … eternal embers … Pompeii … knockout …

Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun, and baby when it’s love if it’s not rough you’ll never come … masculine … feminine … rocket number nine blast off to the Martian … Hephaestus in the bath haus … Aphrodite perched upon the partition …

Fifteen Minute Transcription: Cheek to Cheek – Lady Gaga, Tony Bennett

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

Cheek to Cheek is an aural alloy of the most masterful. Elements converge in a record album of jazz standards and one-take suzies, tears and tempos, fine-tuned fibres of the greatest art form to emerge from this American soil… classical and contemporary pillars found a musical canon of the most necessary, that which maintains the known order between high art and popular culture by collaboration and hybrid creation… in its pairing of Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga, the immense everything of said reality (think about it, think harder) Cheek to Cheek is ARTPOP, Vol. II.

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If, IF I were to blinkk this I’d probably say… don’t rush it, let it linger and waft along those invisible currents only the audible architects can manage to manipulate with their coursing lyrics and lifted crescendos…

For a girl who doesn’t wear pants, who dons only the holiest of stockings… and for a gentleman who watches an industry of beat-backed four-letter woes, where he once wailed infinite rhythms of legendary prose – anything goes. What’s old is new, and what’s new is never lost, just hidden beneath the aura of pop culture:

Lyrically Speaking: “PARTYNAUSEOUS,” Lady Gaga

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

Good music speaks volumes… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking

“PARTYNAUSEOUS,” artRAVE (2014)

Hi, I want to come and make peace with you
but they won’t let me, no, they won’t let me through
I don’t mind if they a-arrest me
’cause I’m wearing my Versace

Why can’t we just put on a smile
and a buzz buzz buzz buzz? We all might be sick
Whether it’s at first or after a few
drinks; we’re gonna unite, don’t they?

Vinyl Cut Prose: “Free Falling,” Florrie

A.V Hub, Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

Sirens Round Two: “Free Falling” … English Channel tunage courtesy of Florrie #getgravitational

First seven seconds hit:

and it feels like taking a little something to channel loose wires…

Free falling… it’s like I’m free… falling… it’s a change of course

Here I am, I sing the verse, sing the verse, sing the verse…

Upside down, and in reverse… in reverse… in reverse

Vinyl Mind Flow // Be Scene: “G.U.Y – An ARTPOP Film” – Lady Gaga, Haus of Gaga

A.V Hub, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

We are the music-makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams four years ago we pulled a stunt that went and turned into a scene

#kanyeshrugsandpoplove #electricworldlife

G.U.Y – An ARTPOP Film:

because,

“I know. But I can’t stay up here on my hill forever.

#queenedknight #kingdomed

Spears Subtext Fantasy

ARTPOP … facing glamorous cruelty in Spears subtext and fantasy

I didn’t get to this place in my life by doing the smart thing every time. How ’bout you, frank farmer? Out there on the edge… did you ever do something that didn’t make too much sense, except maybe inside you? In your stomach somewhere? Something that wasn’t smart? I’ll bet you have plenty. I’ll bet you do. Nobody gets really good without it. And you’re good. I know that. – Ms. Marron

#neverforget #girlunderguardian

I suppose the only way to take this one sonically is through the sounds of an autobiography… at this point in my pop literary career with a one said Lady, certain signatures will emerge at some point within each piece – namely: each release being #theanthem, each release “solidifying this time and space voice of twain,” and autobiographical points of reference expounding on the sheer cosmic Pop of said beat drops. #postoculus #postpop This time, will be no different #letsdelve

unnamed

… and on the sixth day Gaga unearthed the feast, saw everything that she had gamed… and behold: it was very good

Vinyl Cut Prose: SxSwine

A.V Hub, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

I love my fans so much… I love my fans, because they always let me be myself… they don’t care what anybody says… and the reason that that’s important… is because, something you probably don’t know, is that when you’re not yourself, it’s so much harder… it’s so much easier to be yourself, than it is to be someone else… because when you have to pretend to be someone else… like things you don’t like… do things you don’t want to do… it eats your soul inside, and makes you do stupid sxxt… so I wrote this song about all the things I’m sorry for… and I’m mostly sorry to myself and I’m so sorry to myself that I, I don’t always be myself … – The Mockingjay Lady Known As Gaga

In case you were wondering what’s behind the swine … existence of the living gold mine … the reality that human traffic runs through vinyl, video, and grapevine … that spectacular misery is of industrial design … that the vomit you spew, pre-emptive anesthetic to the polity coup, our very own blood red, sterilized white, and royal blue … the surrender in silence, the deafening void, the sadness… the sadness… the lament and suffocating isolation of that human capital demise … that behind the lids are empty exes where once haused Tiresian eyes.

Vinyl Cut Prose: “Home,” Jess Glynne

A.V Hub, Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

British tones. Angeles tempos. That’s the point. That you can come to the light amidst darkness, create an echo in the silence. Basilisk beats, She wanders. Homeward-bound, London found in lost Angeles.

Visceral. The vocals emerge from serpent strings, Valkyries returned on ravens wings, crooning tales to be told of once-lived dreams. Jess sings the blues of a sapient soul found in barren canyons of scarred star-trails. The lyrical lens navigates mood and melody, the narrative unfolds within spliced vignettes – into the Pacific Channel on angels we arrive, through the lostlands and Sunset, emerged from neon aquatic.

Tone and timbre, tears and tempos; bricks and mortar for the rhythms we inhabit as our own. Letting go of what you didn’t know you had, that is what this finds with home.

Crate Dig: “Gearheart,” Analogue Transit

Soundtrek, TK:ATL

Pretense: Crate-digging a bit, dusted off this vinyl cut biorhythmic riff from back in the Aughts… indie zeitgeist mood music, still relevant, increasingly astute aural vantage on the mod world, more than worth its weight in vinyl, and beyond worth the turntable whirl #giveitaspin

***

“I am the truth, the thing you long to hear. I am analogue, I am analogue;” so opens duo Kwaku Aning and Jeff Shreiner’s formal introduction to the music world – and moreover, magnificently introduced the music landscape for 2010 in a softly spoken, but strongly cemented artistic tone.

Analogue Transit’s freshman album compiles acoustic and electronic sounds so authentically that it gives a soul to the seemingly synthetic – granting the machine a mood, and becomes the heart behind the gears. Raw piano and stoic strings ride alongside classically crude industrial effects. These juxtapositions craft an atmosphere that reflects artists’ core, as they harmonize with beautifully melancholy vocalizations, and more importantly, animate the catalyst for this second decade’s creative identity.

Biorhythmic: “Seashells,” Florrie

biorhythmic, Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

Florrie Arnold’s career has to be one of the most enjoyable to follow as a Pop fankid, culture connoisseur, and audio-anglophile; it’s, just, good, music – period.

2010’s Introduction, 2011’s Experiments, 2012’s Late – all EPs, all independent, all soundtracks for something of an anomaly in the current industry – sonic record of artistic development, unbound by mainstream market trajectory.

April brings the Bristol-native’s fourth EP, entitled Sirens. The album’s first track, “Seashells” was released late last week and – it works.

and Kari On with … Fool’s Gold

Interview, Soundtrek, TK:ATL

So, this aKO … installment shines the spotlight on a former-and-forever favorite band du jour: Fool’s Gold. I had the pleasure of interviewing lead singer, Luke Top, for TITLE Magazine back in the day – so figured, why not get reintroduced for the first time. #exactly

title5coverCheck out the feature piece at TITLE‘s MagCloud … and a behind-the-script, best of the rest that didn’t make the pages, below the jump – enjoi

title5fginterview

Decennium Spin: “The College Dropout,” Kanye West

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

“Through the wire, to the limit to the wall, for a chance to be with you, I’d gladly risk it all…”

#dropthuglife

screen-shot-2014-02-09-at-11-50-12-pm

Junior year of high school, despite – and, in a contrarian way, due to – the re-election of George W. Bush, 2004 was an amazing year in an equally-understated way. Off the heels of Jay-Z’s blueprint, in the slightly distant midst of red-crossed cameras, stood the gifted present of a re-educated maestro, the Don in pink Polo: Kanye West.

Kanye West's Performance at the Canal Room

Ten years ago today, pre-Yeezus walked onto the scene a solo rapper; through the wires, past the slow jamz, West set his own blueprint for fame’s new workout plan.

81qy4v1qzvl-_sx482_-e1533399765659

Now Prosing: “Gondola Crimewave,” Night Surgeon

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

Love, this

in so many ways…

Night Surgeon’s Gondola Crimewave EP is slated for a March 2014 release, but I was given an early appointment to sample the latest from Portland’s sonic doctors. Needless to say, if the ailment is color-by-numbers iPop – today’s prescription is two GCs and a midnight call.

#POPCANONS The Anatomical Zeitgeist No. 8, Est. 2013

Soundtrek, Vinyl Cut Prose

Here’s a little story that I made up, so let’s make believe: four years ago I had a party that was too much fun for me…

– “I’ve Just Begun (Having My Fun)

#basically

Back in 2009, I had a little fun drafting up my list of the top twelve Pop artists from the first decade of the millennium (I get bored, it happens). I made up a little narrative of the icons that lived the blueprint for a global lifestyle – more than a genre, an ongoing epic poem defining the general public of that elusive scene, scape, soundtrack we like to call Pop. I was fresh out of undergrad; but forever a 90s kid caught in the nostalgia of homecoming kings, queens, and courts, naturally I paired off the lords and ladies of the said vanity fair, in a fitting hommage to the heralded pantheon of celebrity (which is effectually no more than a glamorized high school) #youcantsitwithus Five coupled jesters of the court, a pair of regal deities, and a pair of honorable mentions (because it’s America – so as long as you’re the best loser, there’s space for you on the podium – but don’t get crazy).

The list went a little something like this…

Vinyl Cut Prose: Britney Jean

Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Cut Prose

I’ve spent the past two years since Femme Fatale mastering the art and science of global media and communication with Britney as my canon. I don’t really need to prove anything, and apparently neither does she; because Britney Jean founds and finds itself in that, it breathes … I appreciate Britney Jean.

Holding the thread close to a dream, while intelligence becomes the steal
For what if gold, showed token sold, while manners abright and rightfully bold
Make a wish, a princess dream, unfold the map, a small lil bean
To vanish the air and trace out the new, so scared to love, so soon who knew
Beautiful voice creeps in my head, only one person person can wear this red
Traces behavior, young and small; I see land, I must fall

 – Britney Jean

43308-57pocg1.jpg

Linger in the legacy… intelligence as the steal is Britney Jean – no, she is not Gaga, nor Madonna, nor is hers the aspired claim on their cerebral domain, that knowledge which detaches one from visceral humanity… that spark to light the first morning star. Yet, only one can wear the red, the Scarlet Letter Britney dons instead… And so seeing land, she must fall; that grounding rooting the human and iconic plight – from dust we came and to dust we return, no matter how high the peak flight.

131101-britney-spears-musical

This is the record of someone who’s already been where you want her to stay, but that’s the point – you can’t evolve, and still return to that place unchanged. But you’ll never see it that way, because you’re not she.

Revealing itself much like a sunset over the Hollywood Hills we have an aural venture through lightly hued layers of majestic technicolor faded, ascending as a systematic rise within the naturally spectacular, muted neon chromatic escalating to the heavens, forever rooted in the Canyon, steady upon the capitalized moniker of America’s finest institution – studio stardom.

Crate Dig: My First Blog Post #ever #kindof

Soundtrek, TK:DC, Vinyl Mind Flow

Stumbled across my now-defunct first blog from back in 2007 #thatyear and in the past six years… not much has changed at all… what can I say?

For the sake of morbid curiosity… from October 2007… my first blog post… #itsadoosie #notheresnopictures

swiper sighs manifesto

So until I figure out this whole music blog thing i’ll just blog about pop culture, pseudo-politics, philosophy, anthropology, sociology, ology … the usual and of course media/entertainment which includes music, movies, tv a bit, books, or whatever suits my fancy.

Ummmm as for the music scene right now – it’s lacking in the mainstream. American Top 40 isn’t a good representation of music, the Top 40 should be indicative of the culture. The top 40 is watered down everything, even pop is watered down. Say what you will about Britney, Christina, N Sync, and Backstreet – but they were Pop: down to the core. They were catchy and they got into your head. They were like Saccharin; they were too sweet, and it was so synthetic, but they were devoured by the masses. You could not deny the sheer “Pop” of it.

BlinkkBeats: “Work BxxCH,” Britney Spears

SnapTrakks, Soundtrek

Everything was worth it. Everything is worth it. Everything will be exponentially more worth it in increasing measure as the cycles continue – if, you, work bxxch #BRITNEYTAUGHTUSALL

#nowgettowork

BlinkkIt:

Please believe this could be a dissertation #ohwait #hadbeendonethat #twice #becauseitsjustthatnice

Brass tacks: It’s fun. Remixable. Killer hooks. Understandable fodder. Strong focus on the beat, pulse, and bombast Britney claims her role as integrated pneuma, as opposed to overt lyrical / verbal navigator.

I make the governor / Call me the governor

… supports said dissertation #busherayouthsubculturecelebrityicon, and thesis #welcometopostpopmusicentertainmentculture quite nicely. I approve and appreciate.

SIDENOTE: ( I’m not a youth subculture celebrity icon of an era ushered in by an incumbent governor president-elect – but if I were, I would probably hook it with: “I make the governor call me the governor” – I approve, I appreciate, I acknowledge that if ifs and ands were pots and pans there’d be no #WORK for tinkers’ hands… #luckyguesses #Y2Kforeveryall)

SnappIt:

If, you, want, that life – the glass house, the fame balls, the applause, the roar, the 20/20 experience, the carte blanche to go rogue, the holy grail, the crucifixion, the revolutionary rebirth, the ability to make them go berzerk in a breath,  that ticket to kiss land – you, betta, werk.

VMA Day 2013 – Four Butterflies to Watch #heylookamonarch

Soundtrek

Honeymoon isn’t even the furthest stretch of one’s falsified imagination when it comes to the Video Music Awards since 2010 #generous This year, I …. okay, I don’t actually know half of the nominees, and I might not have heard of 75% of the songs, but I can pick up a pattern from a mile away #universallaw #fortherecord

No one can predict the future, but we can recognize the present – and that’s good enough for me. Four butterflies to keep an eye on when watching the monarchy tonight… #theeverythingelse

1.) [T]he renaissance of Pop Art and a Warholian world of blurred lines between reality and fantasy”

Sedgwick Germanotta

[T]angent. Point is: Edie said of herself something that resonates so deeply with GaGa tonight, “if you just listened to what I had to say it was sane, but if you just looked at me you wouldn’t bother to listen. And none of them did. God it was a nightmare.” There isn’t that futility with GaGa, but the nightmare is quite apparent. Performance artists live their art — completely. The world is their canvas — truly. Where the art succeeds, the artist suffers, but it is for the sake of art — even if only for art’s sake.

2013:

2.) Jimmy Timberlake 

SnappScenes: Lady Gaga, “Applause”

A.V Hub, Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

I live for the applause, applause, applause – I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause #paws

screen-shot-2013-08-22-at-7-36-10-pm

What I loved about Alejandro

This is the drop after the first waves and floods: I’m not here to talk about her facial features, or how to convert atheists into believers; I’m just saying that somewhere in the midst of a[n] indie short film, and a scene-by-scene homage to immaculate conceptions – and collections – lies a near perfect Pop music video period. Is pastiche supposed to be coherent? It is now – let’s delve.

What was lambasted in Born This Way

I don’t know where to begin or end with this one… and I suppose that’s the best way to be – as there is no beginning or end to the perpetual renaissance What artists do wrong is they lie, what critics do wrong is they try; I’m not going to try and pretend I know every conceptual reference here, nor analyze from a detached place of fault-and-fact finding – this isn’t about Pop cheat sheets and checklists… I’m just going to riff on what I know for me, and what I see

What lingered along the fringes of Scheiße

Lady Gaga broke her notoriously extended hiatus, premiering her first mastered piece of “new music” … Those two years of antagonizing anticipation culminated into the club-pulsing climax … Forget the fact that this may or may not be what you wanted to hear from someone about whom you may or may not give a scheiße – ether that; from start to finish, career and current track, no one – no one female Pop body – can produce: produce, what Gaga can. Line after line, time after time: perfection – the wait is always worth it.

There’s the flawlessly deft production we’ve come to expect from the Haus mother … stratospheric synth, deep bass, smooth distortion, uncannily human reverb pulsing the cacophony. Gaga lends her voice as an added layer, as much a part of the score as the bevy of inanimate instruments behind her

screen-shot-2013-08-22-at-7-36-35-pm

Lady Gaga has solidified her sonic aesthetic and social impact – and they are one in the same. If the backbeat pulses harder than my own heartbeat, why not dance together? This is cold technology and hot harmonies, sheer energy, factory fashion, raw humanity, grime, graffiti, and glitterbombs; this is stream-of-consciousness that doesn’t make sense now, but will before the rest of the globe makes sense of itself: this is 31st Century schizo world – welcome Haume.

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Is what lays the foundation for “Applause:” The pulse as nothing more, and never anything less, than the traverse between polarity

– once you know the system’s rhythm, all that’s left to do is choreograph the rendevous #multiversallyspeaking

#snappit

Lyrically Speaking: “Get Lucky” ft. Pharrell – Daft Punk

SnapTrakks

Good music speaks volumes… rather than impose analysis, step back and expose linguistic artistry… why critique that which has achieved perfection at its own masterful conception… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking

***

(Verse 1)
Like the legend of the phoenix

01_britney_spears

All ends with beginnings

titanic

What keeps the planet spinning
The force from the beginning

(Prechorus)
We’ve come too far to give up who we are
So let’s raise the bar and our cups to the stars

(Chorus)
She’s up all night ’til the sun

s4u

I’m up all night to get some
She’s up all night for good fun
I’m up all night to get lucky

sparkle

We’re up all night ’til the sun
We’re up all night to get some
We’re up all night for good fun
We’re up all night to get lucky
We’re up all night to get lucky (x4)

Ms. Education – Neurotic Society (Compulsory Mix)

SnapTrakks, Soundtrek, TK:LA

mlh-ns-cm

neurotic-society

We’re living in a joke time, metaphorical coke time
Commerce and guru men, run the whole world man
Broke world and debauchery, old world brutality
Cold world kills softly
Whole world works savagely
Greedy men and pride fiends program TV screens
Quick-scam and drag queens
Real life blast fiends
Think twice this past dream

Sounds of the Mayan 2012: Five Albums That Existed This Year – Food and Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album Part 1

Soundtrek, Vinyl Cut Prose

So… if nothing else, 2012 proved that by George the Mayans had it all kinds of right: this year proved a renaissance of apocalyptic proportions – a year when the culturally amnesiatic cynics failed to recognize a sea change over the screams of their own skeptic scoffs… alas, even in the midst of privately-backed Super-PAC pocketed media, bindered women, NRA publicity stunts, mass school shootings, a deluge of false formations and knowledge starvation, the spectacle’s continued triumph over literacy shrugged – and oh, Sandy; even in the midst of all that, there was music – glorious music – because after all, to mark the fall, the birth of tragedy is forever  conceived in the spirit of music.

Somewhere along the 365 steps on the road to perdition, albums debuted, someone named Frank caused an Ocean of tears, a boy named Ken lamented the m.a.a.d. urban terrain, and Fiona spun the wheel while time idly passed by… but this isn’t about them – although everything else prior has unremarkably revolved around the former two – this list is about five albums I listened to, five albums I didn’t need people to tell me I liked, five works that are tragic in their own right, five that may not be cool, may be too young for school, but five that at the end of the day reminded me of what “those” Mayans might play had they lived to see this day…

Food and Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album Part 1 – Lupe Fiasco

LFFAL2

Lupe is to the educated, the other culture connoisseurs, those presently existing from an existential perspective, what Kendrick became for those who don’t have the time, patience, attention span, or concern for anything external of the mainstream myopic. Fiasco is the good wiz in a mad capital to Lamar’s maad citied good kid. Food and Liquor 2 is the gospel opus, this Great American Rap Album is Part 1 is a raptrospective on the imperial collapse of a nation unchained in a state of voluntary mass surveilled servitude. If this black everything is too long winded, too creatively intertwined between vocabulary and vernacular, too scriptural with slang, too substantial for contemporary tastemakers’ slacker style – that’s the point. Much like Lauryn sitting atop her hill – Lupe’s distance from the nucleus of now is what grants inevitable goodness: Fiasco’s Tiresian opus remains forever sitting mad pretty.

Sounds of the Mayan 2012: Five Albums That Existed This Year – 1991 EP

Soundtrek, Vinyl Cut Prose

So… if nothing else, 2012 proved that by George the Mayans had it all kinds of right: this year proved a renaissance of apocalyptic proportions – a year when the culturally amnesiatic cynics failed to recognize a sea change over the screams of their own skeptic scoffs… alas, even in the midst of privately-backed Super-PAC pocketed media, bindered women, NRA publicity stunts, mass school shootings, a deluge of false formations and knowledge starvation, the spectacle’s continued triumph over literacy shrugged – and oh, Sandy; even in the midst of all that, there was music – glorious music – because after all, to mark the fall, the birth of tragedy is forever conceived in the spirit of music.

Somewhere along the 365 steps on the road to perdition, albums debuted, someone named Frank caused an Ocean of tears, a boy named Ken lamented the m.a.a.d. urban terrain, and Fiona spun the wheel while time idly passed by… but this isn’t about them – although everything else prior has unremarkably revolved around the former two – this list is about five albums I listened to, five albums I didn’t need people to tell me I liked, five works that are tragic in their own right, five that may not be cool, may be too young for school, but five that at the end of the day reminded me of what “those” Mayans might play had they lived to see this day…

1991 EP – Azealia Banks

Azealia-Banks-1991

This debut EP is Banks’ foray into the music industry by being in its entirety what every great pop album captures with their tracklist: four successive opening tracks riding in like the horsemen of the apocalypse – square up. Azealia Banks hearkens to a more boldly beautiful time… a more vamped and vogued era, a most smooth new jack swelter, zoot suited synth and burgundy sugar bass. Brazen hooks spring from the mouth of Manhattan’s newest underground monarch, Kombucha punchlines break the rich beats, and track names like “1991” and “212” bring to the fore some voodoo kind of mathemagical to the mainstream. New York comes to life in a most clear 20/20 hindsight within Banks’ sonic bacchanalia. It is the cultivated synthesis of electronic music, subterranean subculture, and signature borough flow that crowns Azealia N.Y.’s most high chosen.

Sounds of the Mayan 2012: Five Albums That Existed This Year – Trilogy

Soundtrek, Vinyl Cut Prose

So… if nothing else, 2012 proved that by George the Mayans had it all kinds of right: this year proved a renaissance of apocalyptic proportions – a year when the culturally amnesiatic cynics failed to recognize a sea change over the screams of their own skeptic scoffs… alas, even in the midst of privately-backed Super-PAC pocketed media, bindered women, NRA publicity stunts, mass school shootings, a deluge of false formations and knowledge starvation, the spectacle’s continued triumph over literacy shrugged – and oh, Sandy; even in the midst of all that, there was music – glorious music – because after all, to mark the fall, the birth of tragedy is forever  conceived in the spirit of music.

Somewhere along the 365 steps on the road to perdition, albums debuted, someone named Franked caused an Ocean of tears, a boy named Ken lamented the m.a.a.d. urban terrain, and Fiona spun the wheel while time idly passed by… but this isn’t about them – although everything else prior has unremarkably revolved around the former two – this list is about five albums I listened to, five albums I didn’t need people to tell me I liked, five works that are tragic in their own right, five that may not be cool, may be too young for school, but five that at the end of the day reminded me of what “those” Mayans might play had they lived to see this day…

Trilogy – The Weeknd

The-Weeknd-Trilogy-630x630

After the party is the after-party and after the after is the hangover… a house of balloons bacchanalia, lifted nocturnal Thursday smolder exploding before sunrise’s echoed silence. The Weeknd’s major label release captured the entirety of an amnesiatic culture’s underground. Monstrous melodies and ominous epiphanies linger through a three act hip-hoperatic. It is so beastly and so beautiful, so filthy, so rich.

Sounds of the Mayan 2012: Five Albums That Existed This Year – Music 4 TNGRS

Soundtrek

So… if nothing else, 2012 proved that by George the Mayans had it all kinds of right: this year proved a renaissance of apocalyptic proportions – a year when the culturally amnesiatic cynics failed to recognize a sea change over the screams of their own skeptic scoffs… alas, even in the midst of privately-backed Super-PAC pocketed media, bindered women, NRA publicity stunts, mass school shootings, a deluge of false formations and knowledge starvation, the spectacle’s continued triumph over literacy shrugged – and oh, Sandy; even in the midst of all that, there was music – glorious music – because after all, to mark the fall, the birth of tragedy is forever  conceived in the spirit of music.

Somewhere along the 365 steps on the road to perdition, albums debuted, someone named Franked caused an Ocean of tears, a boy named Ken lamented the m.a.a.d. urban terrain, and Fiona spun the wheel while time idly passed by… but this isn’t about them – although everything else prior has unremarkably revolved around the former two – this list is about five albums I listened to, five albums I didn’t need people to tell me I liked, five works that are tragic in their own right, five that may not be cool, may be too young for school, but five that at the end of the day reminded me of what “those” Mayans might play had they lived to see this day…

Music 4 TNGRS – Chester French

CFIT

Beyond the prominent production, the ever-enveloping electronic environment, it is the enduring lyrics that take us back to the playground. Some songs are like long-lost love notes, retrieved from a time capsule beneath the sandbox, or somewhere under a tree in the quad. Other songs take it back to the cyber sandbox of whichever social network was your shelter, reading along like a comment your present-day self would leave your former self. That’s what I dig most about the album. It doesn’t try to be anything it’s not. It is a 2012 LP of the mixtape you would have made for your Post-9/11-But-Pre-Katrina-So-There’s-Still-Hope self, about yourself, now. I also like it because … I’m a TNGR and it’s my kind of music.