Badly thought out way to get the bad thoughts out.

Thursday, 14 August 2008

And it don't stop

Two follow up posts here...

Firstly, that next Berkane Sol tune I posted about has been reviewed in The Wire by strength-of-ten-man-like-Joe-''Mixmag''-Muggs, along with Brackles' and Shortstuff's ''Broken Harp''/Geiom RMX, which is coming out on man-like-the-one-like-the-man-like-the-one-like-the-EFA's label Pollen.

Personally I'd have kept it snappy. Something along the lines of - ''Dog turds all round?'' But then, I don't write for The Wire. I write for the imaginary audience for this blog. They're not a discerning bunch - most of them are wearing their pants at two in the afternoon and think that Steve Reich ran a plastering business in 1930's Germany. But I still love them, almost as much as I love my imaginary girlfriend. There's something uniquely unintrusive about a fictitious being sitting on your face.


Also, those imaginary beings amongst you who are regular readers might remember me recently slobbering like a fidget house DJ in a Hackney Squat over ''Aqua5fresh'' by Zomby. Well, for once it seems that Kode 9 is taking tips from me (guess what I'm joking) as apparently it's coming out on Hyperdub in the near future - go to Zombo's myspace for a clip.

So there's that, which is better than anything else in the world, the new Burial EP, which will probably be better than almost anything else in the world, and a new Ikonika 12 to boot, which is also fucked...

I therefore conclude that Hyperdub beats are like the trenchcoat mafia of dubstep at the moment - A.D.D addled twitching weirdos gunning down the macho conformatistist meathead beats that have jovially posted the marginals against a towering lampost-stiff knob-shaft for the past year or so, and if they're looking for someone to write distasteful and morally abject press releases for them, I'd like to announce that I'm often free between writing pointless blog posts, except on days when I'm eating laughing cows slices whole from the fridge, snipping hair from the shaft of my penis with a pair of nail-scissors, or am just shambolically caned and watching Hollyoaks until my brain curdles.