To accompany the release of their personally designed shoes (profits go to charity), Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Geologist, and Deakin from Animal Collective put together a cassette of new material, each contributing one song.
That’s right folks, it’s almost here. Our favorite folk-tronic Brit is set to release his new album titled “Mind Bokeh.” I’m pretty sure it’s pronounced Mind (Boquet), judging by the colorful/psychadelic/flower’s in your head album artwork. But, he’s British, so no one really knows (but if you do know, and you’re British/attractive/single/female, send your phone # and photo to my address).
Anyway… Mind Bokeh at first listen sounds like a schizophrenic tromp through the 1960’s-2010’s. Bibio’s style/influences seem to be all over the map, ranging from Dubstepesque in “Excuses,” to 80’s pop in “Pretentious” and even a bit of psy-funkadelia can be found in “Light Sleep.” But whatever genre you’re into, Bibio promises to please all with his incredible style-twisting sounds. As for the lyrical content of “Mind Bokeh,” Bibio takes us beyond his conventional heavily distorted/vocoder vocals and reveals his true voice and true thoughts about life, love and whatever the hell he feels like talking about (Listen to “Take Off Your Shirt” for all of these things).
Check out Anything New
The Grouch and Eligh from Living Legends teamed up to bring one of the most influential hip-hop albums of the decade. Upon first listen, ’09 album, “Say G&E!” sounds much like any other Roots or Sage Francis hip-hop album. However, the familiar indie samples and highly detailed, polished proves that hip-hop never died, or if it did, The Grouch and Eligh are the embodiment of the second-coming (couldn’t resist the Easter reference). You might recognize the Band of Horses sample in Comin\’ Up (Feat. Mistah Fab) from G&E!
Perhaps it is to avoid some great sadness,
as in a Restoration tragedy the hero cries “Sleep!
O for a long sound sleep and so forget it!”
that one flies, soaring above the shoreless city,
veering upward from the pavement as a pigeon
does when a car honks or a door slams, the door
of dreams, life perpetuated in parti-colored loves
and beautiful lies all in different languages.
Fear drops away too, like the cement, and you
are over the Atlantic. Where is Spain? where is
who? The Civil War was fought to free the slaves,
was it? A sudden down-draught reminds you of gravity
and your position in respect to human love. But
here is where the gods are, speculating, bemused.
Once you are helpless, you are free, can you believe
that? Never to waken to the sad struggle of a face?
to travel always over some impersonal vastness,
to be out of, forever, neither in nor for!
The eyes roll asleep as if turned by the wind
and the lids flutter open slightly like a wing.
The world is an iceberg, so much is invisible!
and was and is, and yet the form, it may be sleeping
too. Those features etched in the ice of someone
loved who died, you are a sculptor dreaming of space
and speed, your hand alone could have done this.
Curiosity, the passionate hand of desire. Dead,
or sleeping? Is there speed enough? And, swooping,
you relinquish all that you have made your own,
the kingdom of your self sailing, for you must awake
and breathe your warmth in this beloved image
whether it’s dead or merely disappearing,
as space is disappearing and your singularity.