The manifold sounds of Connecticut’s experimental musician VXO takes new shape following their earlier release “Why U Call Me” and Color Plus feature “Fade 2”: layered harmonizing vocals cross-stitched into peaking synth melodies and dirty breakbeat rhythms.
“Alcanzarme” is the second single from VXO’s self-titled EP on Vanity Press Records, out 10/20—vinyl preorders available at FIT Detroit. Album art by Ali Bonfils.
Lustwerk labelmate Quavius has been quietly self-releasing dusted warehouse gems from Jacksonville, Florida—recounting the vibes of steamy jimjilbangs and smoked out speakeasies with intimacy. His newest release To The Ville… is eight tracks that take you from Southside Blvd. to N. Myrtle in the earliest and latest hours, surveying foggy avenues and desolate turns with the low-beams turned off.
It’s 2018 and I want to jack this down the by-ways like I’m playing Project Gotham Street Racing on uppers, eyes closed, feeling everything and nothing at all.
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/playlists/345729793″ params=”color=ff0000&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”450″ iframe=”true” /]
A savage journey to the heart of the Los Angeles warehouse district.
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/335184478″ params=”color=ff0000&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]
They’re not actually sleepy eyes; I’m just not high enough to be completely okay with promiscuity in a summer festival setting despite the aid of empathogens. And this song, with its cute horns and Odesza beats circa In Return, isn’t locking in because beyond the melodic summer vibes and faux-PLURness, it reminds me of how dependent I still am on other people for validation, how I still struggle with feelings of attachment, and how I still can’t reconcile with the unpredictability of the future. But sure, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll open my eyes when I kiss you. Whatever makes you happy, dear.
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/331930169″ params=”color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]
When Becky is being passive aggressive at the club and you just wanna scream, “All we do is navigate the cisheteropatriarchy daily to survive in a society that has oppressed our bodies, co-opted our experiences, and commodified our culture, so please: don’t fuck with me on some petty shit, bitch.”
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/333608140″ params=”color=ff0000&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]
It’s Sunday afternoon and there’s a ketamine-fueled motorcycle rally through Compton’s industrial park. Everyone has reconciled with the narcotizing dysfunction of hyperreal politics and the music-industrial complex. Being a wallflower is no longer stigmatized, and creative expression has been absolutely devalued. Absolutely freed. Maybe this is what American Zen sounds like.
