12.2.11

DON'T LOOK AT ME IN THAT TONE OF VOICE



things of the lately.

TYLER THE CREATOR: YONKERS
i have not seen/heard hip hop this abrasive and stunning in a very long time. reminds me of the rawness and urgency of some of my favorite tracks... cage’s manic horrorcore anthem AGENT ORANGE ('divorce ya head and neck and scalp it / rip off all ya flesh and make an outfit') or the campiness of gravediggaz 1-800-SUICIDE or immortal technique’s incomparably brutal DANCE WITH THE DEVIL. this kid's demented swagger is chilling.
he talks a lot of shit. in the video he eats a cockroach, vomits, removes his shirt, and hangs himself. awesome.



lyrics:
I’m a fuckin’ walkin’ paradox, no I’m not
 Threesomes with a fuckin’ triceratops, Reptar 
Rappin’ as I’m mockin’ deaf rock stars 
Wearin’ synthetic wigs made of Anwar’s dreadlocks 
Bedrock, harder than a muthafuckin’ Flintstone
 Makin’ crack rocks outta pissy nigga fishbone
 This nigga Jasper tryna get grown 
About five-seven of his bitches in my bedroom
 Swallow the cinnamon, I’mma scribble this sin and shit
 While Syd is tellin’ me that she’s been gettin’ intimate with men
 Syd, shut the fuck up
 Here’s the number to my therapist
 Tell him all your problems, he’s fuckin’ awesome with listenin’.
Jesus called, he said he’s sick of the disses 
I told him to quit bitchin’, this isn’t a fuckin’ hotline
 For a fuckin’ shrink, sheesh I already got mine 
And he’s not fuckin’ workin’, I think I’m wastin’ my damn time
 I’m clockin’ three past six and goin’ postal
 This the revenge of the dicks, that’s nine cocks that cock nines 
This ain’t no V Tech shit or Columbine 
But after bowlin’, I went home to some damn Adventure Time 
(What’d you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xanies
 And danced around the house in all-over print panties 
My mom’s gone, that fuckin’ broad will never understand me
 I’m not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin 
(What you think of Hayley Williams?)
 Fuck her, Wolf Haley robbin’ ‘em
 I’ll crash that fuckin’ airplane at that faggot nigga B.o.B is in 
And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus 
And won’t stop until the cops come in 
I’m an over achiever, so how ’bout I start a team of leaders
 And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver
 Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers 
All I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches, don’t need ‘em
 But where the fat ones at, I got somethin’ to feed ‘em 
In some cookin’ books the black kids never wanted to read ‘em
 Snap back, green ch-ch-chia fuckin’ leaves
. It’s been a couple months, and Tina still ain’t permed her fuckin’ weave, damn


FRANCESCA WOODMAN

Francesca Woodman's work is often characterized by long exposures where women move through the shot or are suspended like apparitions. reminiscent of the paintings of gerhard richter. i think particularly of callas descending the staircase. ghosts. memory. silence.
she committed suicide in her early twenties. she jumped out a window.
















JAMES BLAKE

james blake’s new record was just released; a collection of broken, naked soundscapes. his voice quietly devours everything around it. not a thing out of place.
this is my favorite track, for some reason abridged.





RAPEVAN MURALS
i have been scouring the internet for images of elaborate rapevan murals. as though owning a rapevan were not enough to call one’s character into question, the mural seems to say: i celebrate my questionable taste and dubious repute, and i celebrate with abandon.

popular subject matter includes: wizards, desert landscapes, proud horses/unicorns, splayed women, star wars.










TIM HECKER
read a really lovely review of hecker's new album/listen at coke machine glow. CMG continues to do justice to music criticism, they are my favorite source for intelligent, astute reviews in spite of their Kanye Hype Bandwagon Jumping.


ALED JONES
british miracle boy soprano from back in the day, here performing Handel. makes me a little weepy.





OAKLAND TURFIN’
elegantly-shot videos from YAKFILMS = beautiful oakland cultural documents. the dance style turfin’ combines traditional breaking/poppin’ elements with krump and balletic pirouettes. mesmerizing, and, when danced in tribute; heartbreaking.






ciao bella.


1 comment:

Tyler David Sherman said...

I like "I never learnt to share."