On “Gypsy Slang” Hezekiah hits you with the real over an intricate, vibey beat and blazing cuts by DJ Statik. His fellow Philly representative Bahamadia opens the song with a harder-than-usual delivery that fits the track perfectly. “Gasoline” on the flip is a heavy rocker on which Hez gets all political on your ass; luckily, he has the smarts and style to back it up.
Kid Koala SomeOf My Best Friends Are DJs
By any definition, Eric San a.k.a. Kid Koala is an iconoclast, so his newest joint on Ninja Tune is all about celebrating singularity. Eschewing conventional structures, liner notes and time signatures, Some of My Best Friends are DJs is a showcase for his ambition and humor, filled equally with instructional samples, jazz riffs, comedic interludes-including a hilarious comic book insert designed by San himself-and, of course, mind-expanding beats. San doesn’t obfuscate like fellow Ninja Amon Tobin or mood-groove like DJ Shadow, but he still sticks out from the turntablist set like a sore thumb. Which is reason alone to grab this shit and spin it.
Killing Joke S/t
Killing Joke would be way trendier if they were doing now what they did in 1981. They don’t sound old. Maybe that’s the problem. They’re on the modern industrial metal tip now, likely influenced by the bands KJ itself influenced (even Dave Grohl sits in on drums). Frontman Jaz Coleman continues to summon revolt, gargling vociferations about asteroidal apocalypse, genetic tampering, pollution, bombs and the “Western way.” There’s enough prowess that the two of you still into the aggro thing will like it. Those trying to forget there’s still a war on won’t. “
Various Teutonik Disaster 2
Compiling the best music even your snottiest friends have never heard of, DJ/musicians Munk (Mathias Modica and Jonas Imbery) assemble another hot round of danceable obscurities from Deutschland’s late ’70s/early ’80s underground. More varied and whimsical than British post-punk of the same period, this German jam scene-an experimental fringe of the Neue Deutsche Welle that bred the pop hit “99 Luftballons”-resulted in some funky, punky, quirky, jerky, electro-erotica that will rock your retro socks off. It’s a testament to their importance that, even today, the selections on this comp sound super-fresh and totally familiar at the same time.
Peaches Fatherfucker
Peaches is proof that fads may come and go, but electropunk is like fine, funky cheese when this freak is at it. Like the whole genre personified, her bisexuality (“I don’t like to make the choice/I like girls and I like boys”) is arguably exemplified by a horny mash of buxom electronic bass with hard guitar snarls. Able to tap the most visceral of both camps at once, she still achieves this logical composite through minimal techniques. From the opening Joan Jett rip to Iggy Pop’s cameo and Peaches’s smooth singing, Fatherfucker threatens even wider appeal than Teaches of Peaches.
Barbara Morgenstern Nichts Muss
Born of a war-splintered generation and technologically-informed culture, German lap-pop singer/songwriter Barbara Morgenstern has cultivated a following by refining piano-composed, computer-configured melancholic minimalism that reconnects folkish intimacy with digital detachment. With production assistance from Stefan “Pole” Betke and Palais Schaumburg founder/Orb collaborator Thomas “Readymade/Visions of Blah” Fehlmann, Morgenstern tethers hushed, huddled tones to the Teutonic tap of crisp clicks. For her third album, Nichts Muss, however, Morgenstern has married a less sequestering production to the sway of her flickering soft-focus syncopation. Plenty of room remains to drape subtleties among the drones and drifts. Gentle guitar figures pirouette against Morgenstern’s vocals, which carry a message that’s secondary to melody. On close listen, beneath sometimes stark crackle, percolating repetitions and rounded analogues harmonics glide and swoop, finally dovetailing with the kinetic precision of fine watchmaking. Morgenstern is of an era of Germans that are harnessing technology to both emit and emote, escape and express.
Five Deez Kinkynasti
The Cincinnati crew of producer/MC Fat Jon, MC/producer Pase Rock and MCs Sonic and Kyle David, Five Deez takes its name from the fifth dimension, that of soul. With their sophomore domestic full-length, Kinkynasti,/i>, the “four black dudes” take their craft from spiritual to spirited. Perhaps influenced by his recent collaboration with Stefan “Pole” Betke, Fat Jon’s production is more crisply focused. Tracks are string-swept and disco-y, but not overly orchestrated, working almost in modules. Beats crackle and echo a little around the edges, but remain firmly rooted, never tripping over each other. The same can be said of the lyrical acrobatics, which never overshadow the musicality. Mixing Zen-like Eastern composure with Western street strut, Five Deez has worked out the kinks on Kinkynasti.
Lazyfish and Alexandroid Os
Rather suspiciously, one of these producer’s names has “fish” in it, perhaps slyly suggesting the origin of this overtly aquatic music for mermaids, mermen and dolphin/pirate hybrids who spend at least 80% of their time submerged at daring, deep-sea depths. Underwater living never seemed so aurally appealing as on OS, with the massaging ambient kelp forests of “Pink-Blue,” the dense oxygen-bubble blanket of thudding melodic IDM shards on “Wo Yow,” or the shimmering sunken treasures of “Sokol” (with special underwater Theremin!). Go on, spend some time submerged with the mermaids.
T. Raumsschmiere Radio Blackout
With its lavender eyeliner melting in the harsh sunlight of reality, electroclash-electronic music’s dandy Dorian Gray-has moved into the old folk’s home. The kids these days are all souped on Suicide, as they embrace their new boldfaced, zeitgeist commodifying label, “electro-punk.” While T. Raumschmiere may not be the high profile scene leader needed for maximum media saturation, his original bass-belting electronic techno-punk convinced Miss Kittin to drop da Housecat off at the vet and yell all over the sultural, grabbing “The Game is Not Over.” Radio Blackout forges a fairly convincing testament to these energetic possibilities, with flurries of percussion and bazooka-like blitzkriegs of sub-gravity frequencies, it’s so fucking punk rock that promo copies were burn-proof. Expect a Ministry of Sound electro-punk compilation soon.
Miles Tillman Over and Through EP
The luscious, cotton candy-blue 10-inch vinyl matches the bright new music from Miles Tilmann, a grossly underrated American talent. In the vein of his last 7-inch for Sub:marine, this one shakes off the dark ambient chill of Tilmann’s previous work, opting instead for a chime-and-bell intro on “I’ve Already Forgotten,” its gentle sway recalling Casino Vs. Japan. “Mimi” and “Monday” are uptempo IDM, while the b-side echoes Metamatics and 33.3. Exquisite.
