Video via Death Grips
Today is just one of those days. One minute you're disposing of a decayed rat corpse in a dingy basement, the next you're fighting with a fashion brand's website for ten minutes, desperately trying to find a way to download their images, so that you may advertise their products for free, only to be defeated by their defensive coding. Before you say it: yes, I inspected the element and Ctrl+F'd my way through the page source -- still no dice. We could be kibbutzing about a dope leather-accented weekender right now, but it just wasn't in the cards. Instead, I will recommend that you stop reading this post and go buy Bottomless Pit by Death Grips, because it is a certified Thing That Is Good™ and I know you are a human of decidedly discerning tastes. I imagine you're swirling a snifter of fine cognac beneath your nose at pretty much all times. Am I right? Don't tell me if I'm wrong. I don't like to be contradicted on my own blog. This is a one way relationship and if you have a problem with that, then you can tell me in the comments. I won't respond, but I might condescend to subtweet about you and your douchery. Hope you're not triggered by extremely insensitive Rob Kardashian references, because I like to make a bunch of them. Mostly about his chronic case of super dumb asshole face, but other things too. I have range -RB
What if I told you there was a sick varsity jacket, inspired by legendary rappers and sock salesmen the Wu Tang Clan, that you could buy and wear on your body for a mere 695 USD? Well, there is. It's called Shaolin Chessboxing - "The Mystery" and it was the first jacket Jonathan Goldberg designed for his hip-hop-infused label The Essence. There are a ton of varsity jackets on the market, but precious few of them have any backstory beyond the Vietnamese warehouse they were manufactured in, let alone a backstory involving a fictional high school attended by every member of the Wu. You know this thing is going to be a legit conversation starter and will almost certainly result in the occasional invitation to go smoke a blunt in some random stranger's Scion. It's up to you whether that is a good thing or not. I think the only real problem with this varsity is that there's at least a 50-50 chance RZA will buy all of them and sell them to Martin Shkreli.
I'm currently recovering from a long weekend of live music, nursing a wicked sonic hangover courtesy of FYF Fest. It all kicked off on Friday with an FYF Sideshow headlined by NAILS. Then it was off to FYF, where I saw everything, fam. And by 'everything', I mean a bunch of things, most of them quite good. I saw Run The Jewels, who delivered pure, uncut enjoyment every second of their performance (and surprise appearances by Zack de la Rocha, Travis Barker, and Gangsta Boo. I saw hipster kings Andrew Jackson Jihad and sang along with Joyce Manor. I saw ass cleavage and sunburns. I saw Will Swan and Jon Mess from Dance Gavin Dance in the audience at Title Fight. I saw Kanye do an excellent Kanye imitation and was entertained as fuck. Rihanna was also there. I saw a ton of weed-smoking. I saw and was jostled by moshing. But most importantly, I saw Death Grips.
New music alert! Please make the raise-the-roof motion wherever you are. From the dark depths of the internet comes Everyman, two rage-filled tracks of unhappy hip hop from the Mystery Kid, now available over at Soap Mouth Records for your favorite price: absolutely free.
Today we take a break from fancy garms to enjoy some heavy tunes. My former band, Xenosis, released a new record, Sowing the Seeds of Destruction, and it's available now for the low, low price of 5 USD, which makes it one of the least expensive items ever profiled on this blog. Even if you're not a tried and true metalhead, I'd still recommend that you give it a spin, as the level of musicianship is extraordinary and I guarantee you'll be impressed. So sit back, open your mind, and bang your head. Just be careful your brain doesn't fall out on your keyboard.
I'm in a shitty mood, largely due to slicing my finger open on a broken glass and bleeding all over my apartment. My bathroom looks like I'm about halfway through the cleaning process that follows hooker-dismemberment. Not that I'd know anything about that (remember: work the limbs like pumps). Because of my foul mood, I can't be bothered to craft prose with the sterling wit you've come to expect. So just look at this big box print slub pocket tee from Blue Blue Japan:
Hello, everyone. Today, I'll be doing something a little different than my usual perusal of clothes and such. I'm working on a new single and thought I'd share some of the progress. The final product will be two songs, since I'm going to slavishly adhere to traditional vinyl standards, despite this being a digital-only release. I fully acknowledge that it's a bit of a hipster move.
This project has been sitting on the back burner for a while now, so I dusted it off and recorded the first song. It's called "Gutter Trash". The editing and mixing is not final, so consider it a rough cut.
You can check out more jams on the music page.
I'm listening to the new Maruta record, Remain Dystopian, and it's quite fucking good. If you get down with a little deathgrind, you could do much worse. Before moving to LA, I was the vocalist in a death metal band. We recorded a bunch of songs and played a bunch of shows in a bunch of bars for a bunch of dudes. It was fun. But now I own too many black t-shirts. Like this one:
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