Videos

I'm a teenage girl living in a 36 year old bald father of three every time I hear Avec Sans. Seriously. Every fucking time her voice flips over those synthy ass beats I get all Chatty Cathy and call a random girlfriend while I lay on my stomach on my frilly ass bed and kick my legs behind me as I twist my hair. "Heartbreak Hi" is the admission that I knew you were going to break my heart and shit, but I actually get off on suffering and then telling everyone "this shit always happens to me". I'm a Debbie Downer Chatty Cathy with amazingly pale skin, and you fucking LOVE ME motherfuckers. One thing that concerns me tho: WHY IS DUDE PLAYING HIS MASHINES IN THE SKREET?!?!? SOMEONE FINNA TAKE DUDE OUT ALL GTA STYLE AND SHIT AND THEN WHO WILL MAKE THE BEATS? WHO? THEN WHO? I love Avec...

The fact that this video looks like a walk down the Green Mile in a very rustic and sepia version of death row, but featuring rollerskating outcasts from society and a guy who had his head used as a qtip in a chimney in the recent past, well all of that actually adds to how fucking calming it is.  I've watched the video from Birds of Hell for "Astronomy Programmes" nineteen times in the last few days (mainly because I wasn't allowed to publish the fucker) and I think what I love most about it, besides the calm cool dirge of sensuality that is the audio, is that it tells me it's okay to let my freak flag drive sometimes. Maybe I'm missing the point, but fuck you this is my website and I'll reference my penis whenever I damn well fucking please.  Birds of Hell are creating a visual...

The last three weeks can be perfectly summarized with the following statement: "BUT THERE'S NO TIME!" Fuck this shit bro, I'm flipping my desk over, dumping this handy jug of kerosene I keep next to my guacamole stash all over the flipped over desk, and I'm dragging my fucking penis along the ground to light a spark to set this fucker ablaaaaaaaze. When life won't let you settle the fuck down, settle the score by dancing like you've got all the fucking time in the world. At least that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to ball up all of this bullshit stress and fucking dance the day away and look fucking fly as fucking fuck while doing so. Thank fucking BRUCE for Leitbur's sexy saunter jams here on "I Need You", because I'm getting mighty sick of not wanting to dance with my...

I don't know if I know Kid Ikarus. But then again, how would I know I know if I didn't admit that I didn't know knowing whether or not I knew I knew I know? The best part about post rock bands that don't use ALL THE EFFECTS right the fuck away, is that they allow for your own storyline to be written the very first time you listen to a song. On "Soft Power" from Kid Ikarus, I'm a young lad, growing up in slow motion, but over four minutes and thirty six fucking seconds, and I go from playing in the sandbox with green plastic army men to crashing some foreign beach wearing battle fatigues and carrying a rifle of some sort, sporting a facial expression of strength through unbridled fear.  Kid Ikarus, while new to me, sounds like they know exactly what the fuck they're doing as a...

Animal Noise sounds like Rusted Root set fire to their acoustics and hand drums and plugged the fuck in, featuring the bass twiddles of Rage Against the Machine performing yoga, and the smooth smooth electric acoustic stylings of a bang of Funyuns.  Also, whenever I sing "I'VE BEEN SWALLOWED! I'VE BEEN SWALLOWED!" my wife looks at me funny. That's nothing new, but this time I'm acting like I've been swallowed by a large whale instead of making references to the semens.  I love how the vocals in Animal Noise sound like an immature Maynard James Keenan begging with his teenage girlfriend to "just touch it", because it reminds me of the last time I did that (last week). "Sink or Swim" is a fucking jam tho, regardless of whether or not someone touched it after all. 

 Benjamin Francis Leftwich always tends to enter my ear holes exactly when I needed a forceable dose of patience. Normally, life is on fast forward all the fucking time and there isn't a drug in the world that can slow it the fuck down. It's go go go go go go go, and then you get sick or hit by a car, and then it's sit sit sit sit sit sit, until you feel better, and then it's back to go go go go go go go go go. There's never been a real clear mapped out method with which to calm the tides of my life, but there always seems to be that one person that exudes the type of calm I envy. Benjamin Francis fucking Leftwich looks fucking calm as balls all the fucking time, and while I hate him for making chill look easy, I fucking appreciate the shit out of him just the same. On his latest shit, "...

Stylistically, this video is fucking disgustingly beautiful.  Meat hooks and red yarn. Decapitated heads on red pillows presented for your perusal upon a pedestal. Milky white cataract eyes and ballerinas.  YAWL is patiently painting hip hop like a stuffy museum, but holy shit is it fascinating.  Fuck, I wish my Macbook plugged into red yard while hovering above my lap.  Ancient Mith is the creepiest dude from the future ever. 

People always ask me how I can run in boots. I don't know guys, I just fucking do. Astronautalis does it. Why the fuck don't you axe hims? In the video for "Running Away From God" our pal Andy is demonstrating his unbelievable cardio skills by running and rapping at the same time. It's fucking disgustingly healthy and something we think everyone who considers themselves a rapper should work on. Sure, most of us can't even watch a television program and run faster than a snail's powerwalkin' pace, but fuckin' Astronautalis? Dude is 80% lungs bro. Yes, his hair is amazing. Yes, that's a grill. Yes, we will be bouncing and singing along to the chorus next time we see him live for certain. Astronautalis never disappoints because he's aware of everything you're aware of, the only...

I do my best to avoid reading bios about artists because in my world, musicians should be treated like mythical beasts. Sure, their own realities might be interesting, but what if I told you your favorite rapper was also a step stool in the hut of Gehgis Khan back in the day? What if I told you that rock band you love so much is actually a plate of russet potatoes bro? See? My reality for thems music makers is way more balls. So this Surma character, I'm loving the fact that it's an adolescent version of Bjork, but one with a different kind of self confidence. The calm yet strong whimsy Surma produces is fascinatingly comfortable as fuck. Throughout the entirety of "Masaai", the song rides right on the cusp of dropping some sort of beat and the steady tease is erotically...

This song takes a minute to get rolling, and I was ready to turn it off and keep digging through the piles and piles and piles and piles upon piles and piles of shit in my email inbox, but holy fucking shit dude. Wait until 1:58. HOLY BALLS ON A BAKED BISCUIT BURNT ON THE BOTTOM, WHAT IS THIS SORCERY? WHY IS MY WHOLE BODY CLAMMY AND JOYFUL ALL AT ONCE? You ever felt music pour over you like a gelatin fucking wave?  You ever wanted to close your eyes and trust fall backwards into a song because it makes you feel something you can't really describe, but it's def something you'd prefer to feel ALL THE FUCKING TIME? You ever wanted to let a song lead you wherever the fuck it wants to? Check this video from CLAST for the song "Flychter", and join me in thinking "holy fucking shit, it'...