Eero Johannes debut on Planet Mu

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Jul 232009
 

Skweee-soldier Eero Johannes self-titled debut album on Planet Mu (label child of IDM-maverick Mike Paradinas, world famous for creating one of the hardest electronica tracks ever… well, at least it was the most uncompromising, beautifully controlled bloodsport BPM-beating of its era… seeing him live at Roskilde in 1998 was a defining experience for me) is the best I’ve heard in skweee so far.

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What is skweee anyway? I mean, the sound is pretty diverse on their compilations, with beats and ideas all over the place. I think it’s easier to see it as a movement: a dozen or so Swedes and Finns who have studied electro funk, dirty south and modern R&B thoroughly, and now apply what they have learnt on the vintage synthesizers, video games sounds and DIY-spirit that they’ve grown up on. More than anything else, it is the lo-fi aesthetic that defines them (with skweee referring to squeeezing out the most of their arcane equipment).

Noting that, it is interesting to see the very talented Eero Johannes spreading his wings here, sometimes lifting from the lo-fi valleys of home to sail among the clouds in the sky. Lipton Service Boy delivers euphoric electro pop. He mixes dubstep and new romantic influences on Sumuhumus and gets away with it. Hal Manifesto is both computer poetic and mad funky at the same time (which is quite an achievement, actually). Natt i spårvagnen and Mobile 363 are equally funky, while Eläin wanders out further into the electronica wilderness.

Delicately balanced between futurism and nostalgia, Eero Johannes is a multifaceted and innovative release that you ought not miss.

Now let’s see what kindo of show they put on live!

Trife Diesel – Better Late Than Never

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Jul 222009
 

He’s been working so hard for so long, his release is properly titled Better Late Than Never. The music on this project is exactly what people have been waiting to hear from a qualified and gifted artist such as Trife. Fans that have been waiting for this album since 2000 will not be let down. Trife has crafted a classic album both for old and new fans of Hip Hop.

This is good News. Trife Diesel (former Trife Da God) is my favourite rapper without a solo album. Been waiting years for a full length.

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The tracklisting seems to be once again plagued by way too many features. If Put It On The Line and that Theodore Unit album would have had less filler rappers, they’d been classics. And much of it would have been thanks to Trife. The track with Royce sounds hard, though, so let’s hope for the best.

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v/a – Museum Of Future Sound Vol. 2

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Jul 212009
 

This Flogsta Danshall compilation from last year is quite a good introdution to the skweee genre (wikipedia says that the name “was coined by Daniel Savio, one of the originators of the emerging sound. The name refers to the use of vintage synthesizers in the production process, were the aim is to “squeeze out” as interesting sounds as possible“).

The tracks are mostly pretty experimental, with a few more stable electronic funk tracks to keep things interesting (even though they’re also pretty out there). Using the immanent lo-fi aesthetics of the genre to punch out IDM and glitch-like material feels too easy, and not very interesting to listen to. Of those tracks, Eero Johannes’ Finnrexin, from his brilliant self-titled Planet Mu release, gets a pass thanks to its beautiful electronica vibes. Other than that – add some much-needed funk to the recipe or get out of the kitchen!

It is better to take the said dirty south and booty-influences of the genre seriously, crank up the bass, and skweeeze out some ass shaking, titty bouncing, sweat inducing, dance floor bangers. Well, they’re not quite there. Not yet. But with tracks like Drums’ Giants, Randy Barracuda’s Shock The Plankton and Metske’s Street they have written a new chapter in the book of electronic funk. For that I salute them.

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You can catch the Flogsta Danshall crew going live against the Harmönia collective at the Norberg festival this summer!

RAW FOREVER #2: Never Personal

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Jul 162009
 

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Out of all the vicious beef tracks ever recorded, Never Personal hits me the hardest. When Mega Montana is going for the throat – it’s over. The competition can go home. His combination of advanced microphone mathematics and undilluted street venom makes him unbeatable. Especially when it’s over what sounds like a leftover from The Infamous-sessions. And there’s an open, honest quality to it that makes it even more powerful. Contrary to the title, this time it seems to have been personal.

Cormega – Never Personal (Fuck Nas and Nature)

This was recorded after his fall-out with Nas, following industry problems related to their work with The Firm. (An older Cormega gives his side of the situation here). The beef is squashed, but these tracks stand as testament to Cory’s status as one of the most ferocious rhyme spitters ever.

Cormega f. Foxxxy Brown – Never Personal Part 2

Cormega – Live In The Spot

Part 2 is more of the same. Foxxxy Brown goes in against Nasir, showing the world who’s the best female who done it (next to Rah Digga and The Lady Of Rage, naturally). I took these two from the J-Love tape along with a live clip of Mega dissing Nas using his own song titles. It’s pretty clever, if you ask me. And yes – sorry about the sound quality.


Into the wild, onto the streets

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Jul 082009
 

Into The Wild är inte direkt en tillfredsställande film. Den rymmer visserligen fantastiska naturvyer och berör viktiga ämnen, men alltför ofta sitter man och skruvar på sig; inför huvudpersonens totala brist på perspektiv och ödmjukhet; inför filmmakarnas hängivna oförmåga att problematisera materialet och gå utanför det givna.

Tonårsupproret blåses här upp till en absurd grad: huvudpersonen lämnar en dag hemmet utan att ta farväl, liftar iväg över Nordamerika för att sedan försvinna i Alaskas vildmark – utan att ens skicka ett vykort till föräldrarna så dom vet att han fortfarande lever.

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En scen minns jag speciellt. Han har svårt att finna mat i det ödsliga Alaska, och halvt svältgalen fäller pojken en älg. Eftersom hans kunskap om slaktandet och tillvaratagandet av vilt sträcker sig till några nedkladdade rader han fick berättade för sig i Texas, så fuckar han processen. Köttet börjar ruttna och äts av maskar, skogens konung är död. “Ett av mitt livs största tragedier”, skriver han i sin lilla pretentiösa dagbok. Visserligen sant. Att stadsortssprätten överhuvudtaget känner sig jämlik med, eller värre, att han tror sig ha rätten att skjuta och äta upp det mest majestätiska av djuren, det har han mage till. (Älgen själv hade säkert något intressant att säga i frågan.)

Detta får mig att tänka på en annan älgskjutning. I dokumentären Gonzo får vi veta något om Hunter S. Thompsons liv. Hans fru var gravid med deras första son, och tyvärr hade de ont om pengar – Hunter försökte försörja dem som frilansjournalist. Men han gillade att jaga, så under hela graviditeten fick frun äta älglever, sallad, mjölk – och inget annat. Detta var trots allt Amerika och det fanns inga rika föräldrar att förlita sig på. När han hade ihjäl älg var det för att nära sin ofödda son. Huvudpersonen i Into The Wild gör samma sak för att nära sitt lyrisk-melankoliska ego. HST framstår för övrigt som långt mer sympatisk då han under hela sin livstid framställde sig som ett Freak, en droggalning, vapenfetishist, sportfåne, alkoholist, fartdåre, en labil männsika, osv. – men aldrig som en självgod, rättfärdig skönande. Ändå bidrog han i livet till att flytta fram våra positioner otroligt mycket mer än både pojken i filmen och dess regissör, den genomblöte kändisliberalen Sean Penn.

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Trots detta lyckas Into The Wild påminna oss om något viktigt: Naturen. Skogarna. Snön. Floderna. Öknen. Djuren. Haven. Hur förhåller vi oss till dem? Att detta hamnat i skymundan är inte bara ett misslyckande för “vänstern” och för “alternativa rörelser”: det är ett enormt nederlag för hela det här samhället, för civilisationen i sin helhet.

Some Bill Hicks clips

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Jul 082009
 

At 18 years old

Funny backstage clip

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In Chicago, 1992, he anti-performs his act. He had sort of a dada quality to him live.

Put another way, he had balls. Balls to go against the government, the entertainment world, the mentality of the place where he came from, the audience, and consensus reality itself. (“It’s just a ride” was his mantra, his radical view of reality.) He went out on the high and risky balancing act between politics and humor armed to the teeth, and came off funnier than any other comedian.

Sometimes, laughing at the world is the only way to maintain your sanity. Humor is the superior weapon for shattering the shimmering aura of self-righteousness surrounding all the world’s biggest hypocritical assholes. Also, it is the preferred power tool for puncturing public lies.

Even though he left us way too early (cancer, at only 33 years old), we can be grateful that his work is still among us. It is indeed needed, especially these days when all the comedy we get is either all fart jokes, or racial stereotypes (Dave Chapelle, Ice Cube, and so on). I can spend hours on youtube, digesting all the great  material related to him that people have uploaded. As a matter of fact, I’m about to do that right now. If there existed a better way to blow away them cobwebs in your cranium, it would surely be illegal.

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“Screwball went to war with Giuliani…”

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Jul 072009
 

“… I’m pure New York, got train tracks inside me…

Blaq Poet Don’t Give A Fuccc!”

The hardest track out this year. While half of New York is busy trying to sound like the South, the other half is trying to emulate the mid-nineties. But while they are looking to the past, Poet is doing what he always does. He is bringing the hardcore with renewed energy. I missed this kind of aggressiveness in rap music today.

Not the most innovative album ever, The Blaqprint still hits you as hard as anything from the golden era of harcore New York. Apart from some filler guest raps, it is packed with Primo-produced bangers like the one posted above. Some posters claim that the production is subpar, that DJ Premier has fallen off, that he needs to update his drums. That is not true. S.O.S. and U Phucc’d Up and Never Goodbye and Hood Crazy and especially the chilling Voices shows you why.

It is a shame and a testament to the sad state of music that you will not hear anything from this played on the radio or in the club. It is not even fair, I mean, Blaq Poet went out of his way, I mean really stretched his format to make a hot club track. Perhaps he shouldn’t have named it Stretch Marks & Cigarette Burns.

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“You aint heard this type shit in a very long time…”

Report from the FUSION FESTIVAL 2009

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Jul 032009
 

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Passed by at the FUSION FESTIVAL last week. You know, generally it takes some days to gather your thoughts after an exhausting experience such as this… many new impressions, new musical and personal acquaintances… let me start by saying, that this was probably the best festival I have ever been to.

Germans know how to organize. Excellent, cheap, all vegetarian food. Logistics that makes sure you can walk anywhere on the festival area in a few minutes – and art exhbitions, food stands, bars and light shows between the stages and DJ floors that make sure you are never bored when moving around. Free toilets everywhere. (If you wanna flush down your shit and wash your hands with soap, you can do that for half a Euro… which felt like a sweet deal in the dirt and sweat of the festival.) Free showers (OK, in the morning and around noon, the line was almost an hour long… but times flies when you are waiting in the sun with the grass and the trees around you… and you are talking to nice people who also enjoy the Basic Channel-techno heard from the nearby dancefloor).

The whole thing was like clockwork. But the thing I found most enjoyable about the whole deal was that the crass commercial spirit, haunting festivals all over the world, had been successfully supressed here. You can take your own drinks when you see the music. No company logos. You can take all the drugs you want to, as long you’re not an asshole about it. No fights. Very few hipsters with too much attitude. In general a very relaxed and friendly atmosphere. And the whole four day festival costs only 55 euros, which, as an example, is about a fourth of the Roskilde festival.

Before going I was familiar with less than a handful of the names in the program. That did not matter, though. Walking around I could hear electronic music all around me at all hours of the day, most of it quality stuff. It is the place for you to discover new names.

The Argentinian Hijo de La Cumbia was very nice, taking a hardcore, junglist approach to Cumbia (a genre that is, as I understand it, to Peru, Bolivia and Northern Argentina what reggae is to Jamaica).

Extrawelt gave us some tight, analog techno that sounded very different (much better, fatter) than what I found with them on youtube. One of the highlights of the festival.

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Marc Houle showed class, masterfully serving us hard after banging hard techno track in the very early morning.

Best of all, as well as an old favorite of us here at Brytburken, was the German dub techno wizard Marko Fürstenberg. He showed the way to a minimal future with a set finely balanced between rich dub bunker pads and sharp, edgy, digital techno rhytmhs. It was well worth to ascend to consciousness at 11 AM to see that. That he played on the outdoor floor pictured below did not make things worse.

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