SONG OF THE DAY: Real Connection

I regret to inform you I have become a “souldies” guy. Maybe it’s because I have a radio show where all I do is play 45s at 33 speed, and the vast bulk of new 45s released are from the rapidly expanding souldies scene. Bobby Oroza is a dude from Finland who dropped Get On The Otherside this year on Big Crown Records, and that shit slams. Sadly, Big Crown Records has not released “Real Connection” on 45 for me to play at 33 speed. The fun thing about souldies is it’s the strangest multicultural scene ever, that has scenes pop up in expected places (like Brooklyn and Northern California) but then Finland. Anyways, I want to start a record label now, with no money and no experience. That’s what happens when you start to listen to too many 45s.

SONG OF THE DAY: Smother Me With Your Love

A face sitter aficionado’s secret anthem, thus a degenerate classic. I think I’ve convinced my girlfriend that should I ever get old and be on my deathbed to smother me out of my misery in this manner. It’s a shame we don’t live in an actual progressive society which could respect my wishes. Instead, I’ll likely be separated from everybody I love, and kept alive against my will hooked up to a bunch of goddamned machines that will drain whatever meager coins I have saved in my pitiful life right out of the possibility of sliding into my children’s hands once I’m gone. What a disgusting world we’ve built, and I say that as somebody who began this paragraph talking about women sitting on my face, lovingly.

SONG OF THE DAY: Drip Drop

Another Cadillac spaceship banger perfect for time traveling because the audio is skewed ever so wonderfully as the 4th dimension recalibrations happen upon re-entry to earthly atmosphere. If you've never experienced it, it's like the sound of having done 17 whip-its all at once, but it doesn't hurt your head and feels like you just dove off a cliff into deep mountain spring. Pretty great, except for the realization that, "Oh fuck, here I am back to my normal base life, back to work, no more playing dominoes with 1971 Pam Grier lookalike in Dayton, Ohio, motel." Hate that shit.

M0ST MY P30PL3'S M3N P4SS3D...

most my people’s men passed 
early - tragedies waiting 
to happen from beginning 

SONG OF THE DAY: Right Place Wrong Time (kudzu'd)

The permutations of place and time are infinite, in fact an infinite number of infinities of them. Infinity can seem way smaller than it actually is because it’s such a simple word full of slender letters. But the infinite permutations of place and time go on and on, and the best you can hope for is to slice a little sliver of your minor infinity into a beautiful snapshot of feel goodness. It’s hard though, because institutions stuff every crack in our infinities with bullshit, trying to misdirect and channel us the wrong way, into some tiny boring ass corner, instead of exploring our infinite place and times of our tiny slice of conscious existence (assuming we’re conscious).

R3MN4NTS 0F TH3 R04D TR4V3LL3D...

remnants of the roads travelled 
stains cellular memories; 
new practice takes time to take 

F3LT TH3 FR4CTVR3D P3RSP3CT1V3...

felt the fractured perspective 
of illicit substance for 
sweet temporary escape 

CL1MB1NG L4DD3RS, CH4S1NG CL0VDS...

climbing ladders, chasing clouds, 
without realizing a man 
can’t ever get that far high 

4S 4 HVM4N B31NG, 1'M...

as a human being, I’m 
more akin to fresh weeds than 
abandoned mechanisms 

SONG OF THE DAY: Don Dada (Hip Hop Remix)

I went to sleep playing this 100% Dynamite! NYC dancehall meets rap compilation the other night, and when I woke up, I had transformed into wearing a light blue and white tracksuit with Polo sneakers on. It was crazy. I guess I got a fairy godfather I didn’t know about.

M4K1NG D0 B3C0M3S 34SY...

making do becomes easy 
if you ain’t got no other 
choice… well-practiced survival 

F33L M0ST BL3SS3D 1N TH3 D4RKN3SS...

feel most blessed in the darkness, 
crawling through marginal zones 
which don’t know that much newness 

0VR VNT3ND3D D1M3NS10NS...

our untended dimensions 
fall apart easy enough… 
fix what you need, fuck the rest 

SONG OF THE DAY: Computer Love Part II (kudzu'd)

A solid proof of America's deep and inherent racism is a bunch of people love Bruce Springsteen still, for some reason, but ain't nobody talking about Roger Troutman. Neoliberal bullshit. Also this song should be the internet's theme song, but we blew it. Now libertarian tech dorks own the internet and we're like ten years away from the national anthem getting changed to a pun that 13 year olds think is stupid.

M4NVF4CTVR3D PVRP0S3 C4STS...

manufactured purpose casts 
long shadows in our culture, 
but I ain’t got to do shit 

L0ST BVT F0VND PR0PH3C13S 4R3...

 

lost but still found prophecies are 
never profitable… find 
joy in my own foolishness 

SP34K1NG P03MS T0 G14NT...

speaking poems to giant 
hulks of metal, hovering 
all ‘round my one-man cipher 

SONG OF THE DAY: La Risada (rebajada)

Slowed music is a lifestyle choice. Slow living prevents slow death, and around the clock digital clockfaces got too many of y'all thinking some RIGHT NOW shit is more urgent than it really is.

B1NG3 W4TCH1NG CL0VDS, STR3TCH3D 0VT 1N...

binge watching clouds, stretched out in 
the dirt of America’s 
rapidly-declined margins 

M41NT41N1NG 1MM4CVL4T3...

maintaining immaculate 
castles made of sand becomes 
difficult work… we’re lazy 

TH3 BRVT4L 4RCH1T3CTVR3...

the brutal architecture 
of displacing natural 
thought with chasing a clock’s face 

SONG OF THE DAY: Soul Heart Transplant (kudzu'd)

[Been out of practice of writing blurbs for songs, so just whipped out a freestyle sonnet for today...] 

The ebbs and flows of brain and heart... Information 

consumed often containing poisons, polluting 

thinking with fear or hate, raw manipulation 

of reactionary types quick to be shooting 

off "just asking questions" digressions of discourse. 

Meanwhile, natural rights and wrongs known (or divined) 

at heart level from birth, which manmade laws enforce 

according to our mythology; but you'll find 

aberrations from heartfelt path, men using math 

chasing pyramids of numbers rather than shared 

goodness of existence, before bloodletting bath 

between divisions. Mind is where the two are paired - 

brain and heart - coming together, and back apart. 

I always hope that spirited thought's seen as smart. 

4SS1GN1NG 0VRS3LV3S PVRP0S3...

assigning ourselves purpose 
where none needed to exist… 
fuck it, I’ll be in the woods 

VN1V3RS4L D3TR1TVS...

universal detritus… 
us human beings born from 
wild stardust (allegedly)