The Cosmic BG-ROM Exhumes… Janelle Monáe’s “Dirty Computer”

A.V Hub, biorhythmic, TK:ATL, Vinyl Mind Flow

Dirty Computerthis synesthetic venture through the ArchAndroid’s akashic record, despite any and all attempts at erasure, remains an impenetrable audio-visualized experience of the rogue post-robotic mediatrix’s life lived … to the fullest extralegal extent of natural order.

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This record, feels like excavation, reveals by vivisection, and establishes through manifest reverie, Monáe’s living mnemonic museum… Black Girl Magic meets Read-Only Memory, CD-ROM in the age of socio-culture-dot-com.

The defining characteristic of the ROM format, is that very read-only capability (“Computers can read—but not write to or erase—CD-ROMs”); here, we have the noir valkyrie read-only memory in 1080p display: transferring data of the self-appointed dirty computer’s voyages through deserted planes of the marginalized fringe, the periphery lingering on those outskirts of the mainframe, where exiled liberation lives.

The defining characteristic of this record is the dirt; that feature beyond the bug – infiltration of organic matter, pre-modern human civilization – is the very same earth which cultivated those origin roots from which these rhythms now flow…

We all come from the dirt. I also see us as computers. We’re downloading, uploading things in our brains, in our hearts, and some of the things that make us unique can be seen as these bugs, and these viruses. And for me, I see all my bugs and viruses as features, as attributes.

… to glitch the matrix – manufactured systems and silicon structures, rewiring human anatomy in the name of “efficiency,” giving precedent to that which is programmed to function through synthetics void of soul.

They started calling us computers. People began vanishing, and the cleaning began; you were dirty if you looked different; you were dirty if you refused to live the way they dictated; you were dirty if you showed any form of opposition at all … and if you were dirty, it was only a matter of time …

Here, we are given invitation, insight, and initiation into the present emergence of homo luminous amid its signature ascent… projected illumination by way of necessary collapse, and subsequent elevation… that dirt to glitch the system, and define inherent divine, of those who are deemed different, marvelous misfits who exist boldly beyond false authority’s established confines. The organic matter manifest magic in highly-melanated vessels of starseeds navigating their native cosmic grid, in the face of silicon artifice.

The Reckoning

The first four songs are the reckoning; realizing what you mean to this society.

Jane’s introduction feels like genomic genesis; evoking a necessary balance between the lyrical syntax’s sobering disclosure, virtually fated in its penance before inevitable sterilization, and tonal sentiment’s simultaneous resilience, sparking reminiscent revival of pre-anesthetic close encounters of the digital world’s loam tribe.

SnappScenes: “Marry the Night,” Lady Gaga

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

You can reproduce your past, you can rewrite your present, you can dictate your future… beneath the metronomic hum of the running film reel Gaga brings the monster from the hub of the city to the heart and soul of her own fatally fame-laden tale…

If you knight it then you should’ve put a ring on it…

BlinkkIt: #bam Manhattan’s Pop monarch came back after three betrayals to bring Brooklyn’s Finest’s line to fruition… closing out Born This Way with a single that slays the sanctimony of matrimony and raises a glass to the twice-kissed sinners… “Birthdays was the worst days, now we sip champagne when we thirstay;” here’s to all of your future pain being champagne. #cheerstotearsontap

Music Monday: 40 Reasons, #40 – M.I.A.’s “Born Free”

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

Maya Arulpragasam cemented iconographic status last decade as the brazen bamboo banga – the staple sound of subwoofers from Sri Lanka to Santa Monica. She laid out her vision for this decade in music in NME magazine – the running theme of which was, “whatever they did last decade: don’t.” M.I.A.’s Arular and Kala play as soundtracks to the past decade’s apocalyptic crusade against genuine culture. She went larger-than-life with indigenous-gone-electric sounds that were catchy enough to become a mainstream radio mainstay (because, well, that’s Pop). This decade she’s going bigger and badder in a politically-charged punk way that highlights the American idiocy in last decade’s domestic attempt to do the same.