2012 is a coming y’all. Not long now before the global grip of the Fourth Reich is slid around our fragile necks and Xenu enslaves us all. The moment when you will have to apologise to the stoner conspiracy theorist that you scoffed at all these years, only to watch his bong-stained body spliced in two by the photon cannon of an Illuminati warcraft, is almost upon us. In only a few months the serating pain of a reptilian workmaster’s whip eternally lashing our sorry backs, will be as normal a part of our daily lives as making a cup of tea or reading the newspaper. You know by now how this shit is going to go down, one government, one ruler, one currency, one nationality, one love, one blood, one life. You got to do what you should.

When the anti-christ finally scratches off his elaborately constructed Prince Charles prosthetics to reveal his appalling face, when his fiendish plot ingeniously concealed behind the good natured actions of corporations, banks and world leaders finally triple-crosses our trusting souls, we shall be ready. In order to be spared when the day of reckoning comes, we have come up with an offering for the Negachristus. We call it the One World Genre.

Debate still takes place about what the One World Genre will actually sound like, but the popular 1-4-5 chord progression with lyrics about girls type, should probably suffice. Upon the 12th hour of the 12th day of the 12th year of the new millennium (121212 * 2 = 666 yo) there will be a mass demolition of all material not conforming, as part of the ‘Everything else apart from the One World Genre sucks’ campaign. Records will be deleted and mp3s will be burnt. Those using a fourth chord will be tortured remorselessly until they forget it.

Unless you want to be garroted by the cypherblade of a level 6 masonic warrior in the flaming hour of judgement, we really suggest picking up that Oasis guitar tab book and getting busy.

There are some out there however, who just won’t play ball. We recently picked up reports of a sect of radicalist monks known as Captain Ahab. Schooled in the art of all musics, these cunning rebels seem hellbent on cramming as many different genres as they possibly can into the same song.

Captain Ahab – Acting Hard

Man, our new ruler going to be pissed when he hears this. Here is an extract from our spy’s report on the recording of this track.

After several hours drive I finally manage to locate their monastery. Hiding in the back of their ceremonial chamber I bare witness to a scene something akin to Eyes Wide Shut directed by Slava Tsukerman. A gibbering, delusional rapper, presumed to drugged and kept in captivity for the specific puprose of the ritual begins to recite a half remembered lyric as the monks procession joins the altar. After a couple of minutes of chanting, the tension in the room is unbearable, I feel I must escape but seem to be overtaken by a hypnosis which roots me to the spot. All of a sudden they shed their robes to reveal their naked form, modesty is only protected by a scant covering of EBM bodyware. As the bell outside the monastery tolls, the whole room erupts into the kind of rave I have only seen in the hidden basements of Amsterdam. Released from my trance I feel this is probably the right moment to make my escape…

On the quiet, we wholeheartedly condone this kind of forward thinking activity. But when the forward you are thinking into is a totalitarian regime of Steve Dahl worshiping spider people, we seriously recommend keeping those thoughts strictly inside the box. “Acting Hard” is taken from their new album ‘The End of Irony,’ (which considering the tone of this post possibly isn’t upon us just yet) available next month from deathbomb arc. Pre-order it now before all copies are crushed under the scaly foot of the inverted messiah.

You may chuckle at our belief in the prophecies of the Internet, but throughout history the all-powerful bringer of evil’s conspiracy has been busy in the engineering of this new form. Do you not think it is strange that Bob Marley can die whilst playing football, yet Coldplay manage to fly all over the world without receiving so much as a scratch? Dark forces at work my friend, dark forces.

France 1980. In the United States of Europe in a time before humanity had uncovered the plot that will spell its termination, a member of another genre abusing clan known as Mathematiques Modernes released a seven inch single.

Claude Arto – Betty Boop

Betty Boop shall be offered as the marching anthem for the quadruped army, that shall watch over us whilst we are forced to build drive-thru McDonald’s out of stones the size of News Corporation’s headquarters. Betty Boop also represents the kind of cheeky progessive post-punk irreverence this sub-section of the 20jfg alliance loves very much. Coming like a demented version of Suicide presenting an episode of Eurotrash, abrasive oscillations can be fun.

Continue to enjoy and be influenced by stuff like this if you like, but when the Obamasatan’s men come knocking at your door you better have that Keane CD in the stereo, otherwise you might end up hanging in the walk-in fridge of a pyramidal Burger King. Just saying, is all.

While techno may be the country music of Europe, here in LA it is usually just the music of douche-bags. Then the punks got their hands on it and things really got fucked up.

Enter King Ahab (Twitter). Punk in attitude, but still a virtuoso that crafts everything to perfection. There are a lot of awesome folks doing this Ravesploitation thang here in the valley of smoke (IE and Kid Infinity are the first to come to mind), but it is Captain Ahab that serves as world-wide ambassador for this LA sound. So why not a summit meeting? Let’s call Sickboy to the table and see what he has to say:

Captain Ahab-Party Baby (Sickboy Remix)

Get it from the wonderfully named, Needs More RAM Records.

I’ve been feeling that Cali nostalgia lately and listening back to some classic, although sadly unknown, 90s jams. Obsession has never meant as much for me as it did with a band called rRope from San Francisco. To use 90s reference points, they were a Sonic Youth or maybe even Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 for the Touch N’ Go / Jesus Lizard loving crowd.

Totally cowboy. Or, like that scene in Young Guns when the cowboys all do peyote. Bad asses doing mystical shit. Fucking amazing. Fortunately for us, rRope’s demise is not the end of the story. Death to rRope, long live VNC!!! Sorta. It’s a combo of awesome classic SF folks, but best of all they are active NOW. We are blessed.

Lets all walk on molten glass.

rRope- Step Right Up

VNC- Sea Way Wolf

Half way between Los Angeles and Alaska is Alaskas. The dude. From Seattle. A part of the small, genuis circle of lo-fi-ers from the land of Grunge that Universal Studios Florida call home, Alaskas is the heart throb of the group. A male Kate Bush that is killing it live with a brutal poised-honesty… but see for yourself:

Alaskas “Unshackled” video

[vimeo]http://vimeo.com/6772030[/vimeo]

The message of that song is either “free yourself” or “free downloads”. You decide. In the meantime:

Alaskas- Unshackled (Universal State of Florida_Remix)

We are DJing at the Nail the Cross on Saturday. Rising early and shining strong. Come and say hi.

Foot Village have been stomping and bashing their way through reality with a barrage of drums that crack the shield of our inhibitions like rebel proton torpedoes striking the core of the Death Star to make the galaxy free, wave after wave of percussive dope and shrieking send us reeling against the corner of the ring from which we stare aghast as the culprit, a mexican wrestler with the purple mask of Boredoms, the steel muscle of Vitalic and the attitude of Crass gets ready to deliver the final blow, BONES!

Foot Village- Bones

This is featured in the Rock is Hell 7” boxset

I didn’t know jack about Nero’s Day at Disneyland until I heard Death Parade, and then I realised I just didn’t know anything. Death Parade (featuring Kevin Shields) is the epic soundtrack for Ren and Stimpy’s hysteric explorations of an alternative 9th-dimensional universe designed by Paper Rad and populated by arpeggiated fire devils, or that revolution in itchy and scratchy’s theme park if the insurgent robots led by Kirk Douglas had managed to get hold of an arsenal of psychedelic weapons, yeah, that kind of thing.

Nero’s day at Disneyland featuring Kevin Shield- Death Parade

So if I told you that some gay trance vikings had fused HEALTH and Foot Village into a bass Ragnarok with conga sounds added to enhance the madness, would you say (a)’ fuck yes gimme some of that’ or (b) ‘ soz, no I’m too lightweight’? Any seasoned reader of 20jazzfunkgreats will jump into (a) like Indiana Jones dropping into a crystal bridge over the abyss so he can fetch the Hoy Grail that will save his dad’s life, and get his reward. The Power of HEALTH concocted by Captain Ahab does what it says in the label, and with its crunked out mastodontic progression smashes the place out in a Drop the Lime hanging out with Slayer way. If Ed Banger had meant to rock they would have walked this way. As it is, and paraphrasing our pal Brad, the difference between them and this electro beast of pure and focussed energy is like going to the bachelors grove website versus seeing a Satanic seance at midnight on Halloween on the grave of your mother and daughter.

If this is the new sound of the U.S.A. we welcome its arrival and look forward to a future of raucousness and fury.

Captain Ahab- The Power of HEALTH

Brad has made a video for Chicago Juke/ ghettotech/Giallo Funk outfit Young Cream, it’s based on some medical research on Photosensitive seizures so you can imagine the vibe. Check it here. I looked at it for a while and made me feel a bit funny, be careful kids!

Bonus tune

Casy and Brian have been oh so kind to send us their brilliantly titled album Catbees, out on Pish Posh of North America from their magic space of wild evolution in SF. Our lurid brains imagine, of course, a telepathically enhanced green-eyed cat commanding swarms of bees to do its magnificent bidding, but then we never had any friends at school. Casy and Brian has three members: Casy, Brian and the insane boost of crackling energy which surrounds their jaunty new wave, hallucinations of animal & weirdo pop totems blip in the air as a special dimension is glimpsed between the crack of their exhilarating dope music. Devo wearing owl hats? We’re buying.

Casy and Brian- House on the Haunted Hill

House on the Haunted Hill is particularly great, we wish more bands like this made horror soundtracks, imagine all those teenage jocks and bimbos that populate modern slasher flicks prancing in utter merriment and abandon as spears, scythes, axes and knives fly in the air chopping them up in little pieces. As I said we never had any friends in school, this is what happens.