Big Boi endorses chemtrails conspiracy theory, claims expertise
Big Boi is a rapper that I have a lot of respect for. He seems trustworthy.
So when he takes it upon himself to endorse a wildly outrageous conspiracy theory that claims that visible aircraft trails in the sky are part of some government program to either give us all cancer, mitigate/cause global warming or to seed the skies with electrically conductive materials as part of a massive electromagnetic superweapons program based around the High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program...I'm kind of willing to take his word for it.
Do you know how to save a drowning cat?
...at least this way you get to have some fun if it's dead already.
Life Sans Music
This is an article I wrote for Vice's Anti-Music Issue. I was commissioned by the Aussie Office to write it, but then they didn't publish it. The US issue and some other random countries did feature it though. I don't know what this means.
Photos by Neil Buckingham and Blake Calderwood
As I write this, I am recovering from spending two weeks without hearing music of any sort. Two. Fucking. Weeks. It’s been awful, really awful, and, for the most part, mind-bendingly depressing.
I turned into a whining, unsociable, borderline agoraphobic manic-depressive. I hate everyone. Everyone hates me. My girlfriend told me I’m an asshole, my housemates think I’m a prick, the general public probably thinks I’m deranged to wear construction earmuffs everywhere during a heat wave, and I think I agree with all of them.
I was allowed to choose one song to listen to before my two weeks began. I decided to pick something that could potentially get stuck in my head for a fortnight without causing me to hang myself. I chose “Raspberry Beret” by Prince. An easy decision. I listened to it three times in a row the night before I began. Prince was to be my bastion of sanity.
I kept a diary for the entirety of my musical anorexia. It consists of me bitching about how shit life is when you can’t listen to music. Here is some of it.
Photos by Neil Buckingham and Blake Calderwood
As I write this, I am recovering from spending two weeks without hearing music of any sort. Two. Fucking. Weeks. It’s been awful, really awful, and, for the most part, mind-bendingly depressing.
I turned into a whining, unsociable, borderline agoraphobic manic-depressive. I hate everyone. Everyone hates me. My girlfriend told me I’m an asshole, my housemates think I’m a prick, the general public probably thinks I’m deranged to wear construction earmuffs everywhere during a heat wave, and I think I agree with all of them.
I was allowed to choose one song to listen to before my two weeks began. I decided to pick something that could potentially get stuck in my head for a fortnight without causing me to hang myself. I chose “Raspberry Beret” by Prince. An easy decision. I listened to it three times in a row the night before I began. Prince was to be my bastion of sanity.
I kept a diary for the entirety of my musical anorexia. It consists of me bitching about how shit life is when you can’t listen to music. Here is some of it.
I took a photo of a defiled toilet
I was terrified when I initially walked into this cubicle. The situation on the toilet seat really stressed me out. It's pretty fucking disgusting. I was on the verge of pirouetting the fuck out of there, but then I read the little ditty written on the back of the toilet seat, and, well, I felt vaguely emboldened. The second sentence is definitely not something I would condone, but masturbating over recently deceased hip hop legends is way less deviant then having a midget sex fetish or letting your dog lick your balls while you watch a chick get fucked by an octopus. It's all about moral relativism. That's all I'm saying. As to the bloodstains on the seat, that's just not on. If that's coming out of your orifice on nights out then you should probably be locked up in a cage for a while.
This is about as close as I get to listening to dubstep
So, yeah, this isn't dubstep, but it's kind of like it's dreamy little offspring, free of most of the angry free-wheelin', dropping and wobbling bass of conventional dubstep. It's almost happy, sunny music at times, but not quite. I'm told that some people have been calling this kind of music "step", but that's kind of like telling someone who has a mild case of down syndrome that they have an affliction of syndrome. Which just isn't right. Well, actually, it's nothing like that at all. But no matter, my point is that it's just not right, and maybe you can just take my word for it.
The song you can listen to above is by Mount Kimbie (the same chaps that did that swell remix of Foals' "Spanish Sahara"), a UK duo who, as I have been trying to circuitously point out with an insulting analogy, have a vaguely-dubsteppy take on ambient electronica. And no, don't worry, by ambient electronica I don't mean that it's all emotional and "deep" like that morbidly depressing Burial guy. Or that photo of the guys above. Anyway, suit up your best pair of earphones and give this track a lil' whirl if you fancy. It's pretty nice.
Best ad ever?
Pretty good, no?
Yet, for some peculiar reason, I still have a soft spot for Ronaldo's Castrol ad. And I just found the extended version of it for the first time. It's better than the original because he speaks more english words in his weird fucked up Portuguese accent that I can laugh at...futbul takes mi miny plaseees...hot plaseeeees....cold plaseeees...exhillirateeeeing plaseees...and other plaseees...bitturprepureforitalll... because in my life, pipple rispect only the bist perfurmeence...evan under extreme conditions...and...SODOI!
ahahahaha
Brigitte Bardot may be bat-shit crazy, but I still like this song
How have I never seen this before? I suck.
Also, whilst I'm on the subject of Brigitte Bardot, it baffles me to comprehend how this naively sensuous little sex kitten...
...could turn into this cantankerous-old-wrinkly-racist-homophobe?
Also, whilst I'm on the subject of Brigitte Bardot, it baffles me to comprehend how this naively sensuous little sex kitten...
...could turn into this cantankerous-old-wrinkly-racist-homophobe?
This seriously disturbs me. And just in case you don't know what I'm talking about, I'll tell you. Firstly, racism. Without even consulting Wikipedia, I can tell you that Miss Bardot has been convicted for inciting racial hatred at least five times. Her general argument, as far as I'm aware, is that Muslims are horrible job thieving brown people that are attempting to destroy France by killing sheep in the wrong way.
But who am I to wittle such incendiary hatred into one mere sentence of my own design. So here she is in her very own words: “I’ve had it with these Muslims coming over here, taking all our jobs and slaughtering our sheep in accordance with their own religious beliefs.” You can just imagine her bulging throat waddling back and forth as she vigorously points an accusatory finger at the nearest Muslim in earshot.
She's also a massive homophobe, and happens to believe that gays are “fairground freaks who jiggle their bottoms, put their little fingers in the air and, with their little castrato voices, moan about what those ghastly heteros put them through”. And that quote isn't even some drunken joke taken way out of context. She wrote that down. In her very own book. I almost want to read it.
If it earns her any brownie points though, she does love animals, apparently, and once tried to save some Canadian seals from being killed or harassed or something. Quite noble. But this just reminds me of an article I read a while ago about fascists having a thing for animals. Had something to do with having a controlling psyche. And being mental. Or maybe I'm just getting confused with this website, that's dedicated to pictures of cats that look like Hitler. Either way, Brigitte Bardot is pretty shit. But shit in an entertaining kind of way. Kind of like Berlusconi then, but way better looking.
If it earns her any brownie points though, she does love animals, apparently, and once tried to save some Canadian seals from being killed or harassed or something. Quite noble. But this just reminds me of an article I read a while ago about fascists having a thing for animals. Had something to do with having a controlling psyche. And being mental. Or maybe I'm just getting confused with this website, that's dedicated to pictures of cats that look like Hitler. Either way, Brigitte Bardot is pretty shit. But shit in an entertaining kind of way. Kind of like Berlusconi then, but way better looking.
BURRRRRRR!
I have an unhealthy obsession with Gucci Mane. I don't really know why. It's not even that he has any songs that are particularly outstanding. Sure, I admire his galactic ego, but it's probably more the way that he goes about his trade. He doesn't seem to be bothered with highlighting his punchlines. Or anything, really. Everything, and I mean everything, falls out of his heavily sedated mouth in the exact same monotone pitch. Finding his best lines are kind of like finding the Where's Wally of rap.
And pretty much everything that comes out is about what happens to be on his wrist, how swell his car is, degrading bitches, shooting people, getting shot, how large and phallic his chain is etc. He just does it better than most. He also only changes the tempo of his rhymes in very subtle ways, depending on the beat (which is always cheap and tinny sounding for some reason). Yet, somehow, you never get bored of it. It lulls you in. Gucci Mane is the Medusa of southern rap.
And pretty much everything that comes out is about what happens to be on his wrist, how swell his car is, degrading bitches, shooting people, getting shot, how large and phallic his chain is etc. He just does it better than most. He also only changes the tempo of his rhymes in very subtle ways, depending on the beat (which is always cheap and tinny sounding for some reason). Yet, somehow, you never get bored of it. It lulls you in. Gucci Mane is the Medusa of southern rap.
Foals are pretty good
...but I still think Yannis is a prick. I have a thing for holding grudges against people I don't really know, and I'm still kind of shitty that he corrected my pronounciation of Kele and didn't share his joint. Dick. Look at his shitty bearded face. But I still have to admit, Foals' repulsively named new LP is pretty swell.
As is their second single and album highlight, Spanish Sahara. I'm guessing the video was filmed in Sweden (they recorded the record in Gothenburg). Actually, the remix below the video is probably better. Listen to that. Download it too if you fancy.
Spanish Sahara (Mount Kimbie Remix) by cohenburg
As is their second single and album highlight, Spanish Sahara. I'm guessing the video was filmed in Sweden (they recorded the record in Gothenburg). Actually, the remix below the video is probably better. Listen to that. Download it too if you fancy.
Spanish Sahara (Mount Kimbie Remix) by cohenburg
Introducing - Minimal Wave
Don't worry kind reader, Minimal Wave isn't the shitty buzz band that happens to be making this weeks internet rounds in return for 5 minutes of fame. No sir. In fact, Minimal Wave isn't a band at all. It's a genre of sorts, albeit one named posthumously. Also known as Coldwave, it refers to a relatively small collection of musical output, originating in France in the late 70's and spreading throughout Europe, North America and Japan in the early 80's, spurred on by the French New Wave. Most songs rely predominantly on raw sounding analog synths and primitive drum machines, propped up by some otherworldly, oblique vocals and obscure lyrics. Much of it subscribed to pop formulations, but some of it was still pretty experimental, influenced as it was by the avant-garde, so there's some weird bat-shit-crazy songs in there too.
On the whole, it's a hit and miss genre on the whole, and to make matters worse, songs are often incredibly difficult to track down as most of the bands from the movement released a 7 inch with a distribution of about 5 and then disappeared into obscurity before anyone really knew what was happening.
Now the good news. Things are looking up, and Minimal Wave is seeing somewhat of a revival thanks to a few hard-working record collecting obsessives. Already this year there's been a couple of good introductory Coldwave/Minimal Wave mixtapes put out that offer a collection of some of the best songs from the movement. The first collection is called The Minimal Wave Tapes Vol I, and it's a decent introduction to the genre.
To get an idea of what I'm talking about, take a listen to the track below. It's by a French boy-girl duo called Deux, and the song is called "Game and Performance". Listen for the unique pronunciation of the word performance. It's great! The chorus is pretty swell too (You just need / Game and performance / Your life is a prospecting company / Business man / Yet you killed / Yet you killed with us / Computers programs shadows in the night). But it's the icy synths and the drum machine that take center stage here. I'll try and put some more Minimal Wave songs up another time...
11-deux - game and performance by cohenburg
Hunting fashions with Killaqueenz
[This article was published in the Vice Fashion Issue 2010; photos by my boy Tommy Thoms]
After just one album, KillaQueenz are already a rarity in Aussie hip hop. They don’t suck. In fact, Kween G (aka. Gladys) and Belizian Bombshell (aka. Desiree) offer a fresh mix of old-school rhymes and dance-hall infused beats that kick the shit out of most music currently out there. Plus, their live shows are renowned for unleashing the energy of an epileptic fit on stage whilst dressed in clothing louder than you’d see staring at Elton John, directly after ingesting a Peyote Cactus.
We hung out with them on a muggy Monday in Sydney, and in between sweating profusely, drinking a weird array of organic juice and chuckling at Newtown crackhead banter, KillaQueenz took us shopping. It was kind of like going shopping with your girlfriend, except we didn’t get dragged around shops that specialise in handbags made out of some near-extinct species of Amazonian tree frog which cost more than your soul. Even better, we could yell things in crowded areas like “Hey Belizian Bombshell I think that this flourescent pair of space-age sneakers would look rad next time you support Lady Gaga!!” And Belizian Bombshell and Kween G would laugh because they can shop and retain their great sense of humour. Take that girlfriends. We took some photos and chatted about fashion.
Requesting a midget on craigslist
This is an ad I placed on Craigslist a while ago. I was going to do an article about my experience meeting a dwarf/midget and facing my "fear". It was going to make me famous. I was going to be like Louis Theroux except more awkward and self-involved and less famous. But still famous. It was definitely going to make me famous. I even heard back from two midgets. They both requested that I pay them an exorbitant amount of money per hour. I joked that we could adjust the price by foot of height that they measure. They didn't fall for it and both sent abusive emails back. One referred to me as a "pig". So I referred to him as a "greedy little capitalist fucker". Things got ugly. The article no longer looked promising.
ps. if any dwarfs/midgets read this, I'm still up for it. I don't hold grudges against your kind and I know that there must be some dwarfs/midgets out there who aren't greedy. I don't even care whether you're friendly or not anymore. The horizons are broadening. A hostile midget will do fine.
This band are kind of nauseating but this song and clip, I like
Sydney's The Black Ryder with "Sweet Come Down"
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