Three years later: Perfect Illusion; welcome to the new testament.
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.
- having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.
- make (something) completely free from faults or defects, or as close to such a condition as possible
- a thing that is or is likely to be wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses.
read: this life and this record are your perfect illusion, so… perfect the illusion and manifest mental reality #FREEYOURMIND
Mathemagical, isn’t it? #itsallmakebelieveisntit ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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…
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 stereotypical 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.
WeAreMortals living soundtrack, sonic couture for the post-structural human culture, in founder Anji Becker’s own words…
“(W)orld Town” – M.I.A
She’s 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.
Slates and palettes, vision and vices as brick and mortar of Angeles the spectacular urban palace…
Media makes for a most marvelous canvas…
when the world muses as such…
Words, lines, scribes, eyes, Sunset below the artisan’s guise…
VINYL MIND FLOW #OKGO
I riffed on Laurel Canyon and Mulholland Drive into a recording device for eight minutes and forty-nine seconds: this is the verbatim transcription.
Okay, fifteen minutes. I’m at Mulholland and Laurel Canyon. So, I guess the most fitting thing for me to do at this point would be to talk about what Laurel Canyon and Mulholland mean to me. Fifteen minutes. So we’re on the clock, and we’re twenty seconds in: so, to me, Mulholland Laurel Canyon is just The … I wanna say The Fame. Oh. I wanna say The Fame, but it is fame: it’s American fame. What is The Fame to me? Mulholland and Laurel Canyon are Hollywood. It’s Cal – it’s … we’ll figure it out together.
Laurel Canyon is the Hippie Movement, right. It’s this, y’know, makeshift cobblestone ver– y’know, sloping – It’s… this canyon. It’s a canyon. It’s a cavity. It’s a cavity; but it’s the vein, and it’s the artery at the same time. Y’know like, you get traction. Y’know Laurel Canyon is the Hippies, is the Sixties, it’s the counterculture. It’s Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison. Umm, it’s an odd counterculture. It’s very calm and weathered. And then you’ve got Mulholland, which is fame to me.
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
This deal is getting worse all the time… #thenudeal
He just sits and waits for them to kick in the door
He once was a hero they don’t love him no more
There’s a blast, every time a foot hits the floor
His gift for not fighting another man’s war
And if they can get their hands on the mask that he wore
On his face, they can put somebody else in his place and restore
The state, the illusion that it’s safe – the faith, that being a slave is so great
As gas fills the room and rockets destroy everything around him
He stands to find himself surround
By thousands of soldiers that his once trained to never miss their targets