120 Megabytes – Episode 13

brought to you in association with @markbrown and our friends over at Network Awesome

To those tuning in for the regular Wednesday chillout session, we’re sorry but we had to cancel it this week. Michael Cain is on holiday, and recently the foul stench of corruption has been getting too much round here. It’s time for 20jfg is to clean up this town.

Donning the suits we peeled off Hall and Oates’ cold dead bodies, blowing our department’s entire budget on the kind of sports car only Jamiroquai can afford, we accelerate across Information Super Highway at 150 beats per minute, sniffing out and stamping on the corrupt with our alligator loafers. We exist only in the reflection of a pair of Ray Bans at the bottom of a bag, in the back room of a Florida vintage store. Whilst browsing the store you hear the piercing roars of 2 engines whose combined value could end third-world poverty. It’s us. In merciless pursuit of those who turn a blind eye to mediocrity in order to profit from its ill gotten gains, those who were once valiant defenders of the public from this evil substance, now hooked on its easy buzz. Admiring our solid gold watch as we pop the glove compartment, we fumble around for a suitable Laserdisc to soundtrack our weekly shoot-out. Time to pop a metaphorical cap in some proverbial ass.

PJ Pooterhoots – Chase

Author of Optimo fave ‘Barf’, PJ Pooterhoots causes a high speed collision of two of the best things ever to come from Miami. It’s currently touch and go for the survivors of this crash, but they are predicted to live a long and healthy life. Much longer than Don Johnson’s singing career at least. Coming like the soundtrack to a lost episode directed by Stan Brakhage, Chase is the sound of Jan hammer slamming down the accelerator of his Testarossa to escape from a livid 2 Live Crew after he called them a bunch of pussies. In the final scene, his neon atmospherics engage in a gun battle with a full on DJ Assualt, but someone has taped over the ending with Dallas so we never get to find out who wins.

LLeGGS is a combination of PJ Pooterhoots and Jay Sonic. Sounding like a soundtrack for Magnum P.I. recorded by DAF with executive production by George Clinton, we are very pleased to present an exclusive work in progress. Any band who lists Tim and Eric’s Beaver Boys as their primary influence has to be worth checking out.

LLeGGs – Like there’s no one at home

Like There’s No-one at Home is a cautionary tale in the form of funk workout, about leaving your 303 unguarded at night. While asleep, mischievous creatures with ambitions of being Lil Louis rush from the skirting board, amassing atop its shiny surface they party on its keys, spilling beer over its LEDs they make out on its circuits, changing patterns more quickly than the sluggish big people would ever bother to. Awoken by the noise you rush to your beloved acid box to find it trashed, microscopic beer cans and droppings everywhere. We are very glad to be the ones to clean this mess up.

If you leave this post to play through the mysterious 30 minutes of silence at the end of the CD, you will find the bonus track. Sometimes we hyperactive prog-space-jams in the most unlikely of places. In a modern time of luxury behemoths we call computers, we often hark back to an industrial age where music production was limited to a constrainingly basic sound chip. When faced with such limitations, there was only one option to keep music interesting, when trapped in SID’s prison we must solo our way out.

Unknown Artist – My Own Private Hyperspace

The above is the recording of a demo track found in an ancient replicator of an even more ancient means of digital composition. Vaguely reminiscent of such modern day purveyors of 8 bit prog jams such as 20jfg pals Ben Butler and Mousepad and Max Tundra, it’s presence here could not be resisted.

The Miami Swipe EP is out now on Tigerbass. One of us also releases on this label and is now under investigation for corruption. LLeGGs shall hopefully be appearing on a record label near you in 2010. Computer music geeks can play with GoatTracker for free here. Chill music with Michael Cain returns to its regular spot next week.

And we could not leave you without this amazing new video by Extreme Animals.

Level * is a bitch. Basically you have to fly the Dude Troll through x2mega crunk-space and jack it all forward dodging crystal missiles left and right, been there done that you say cocky, well, all your past missions were a piece of cake compared to this, psychedelic ace fighter, you are going to be manoeuvring in delta mode, in the intersection between everyday physical dimensions (stretched by gravity like play doh in the hands of some feral child) and the green blue yonder, so expect all sorts of hallucinatory shit flying around you, we are talking phosphorescent noodles coming out of your eyes and Schrodinger Cat sitting in your lap purring space dub basslines, all of this on top of the usual enemy superiority and random debris floating around waiting to smash through the plexi and splatter your slimy equation hustling nova missile pumping brains all over the cockpit. The life of a transcendental jockey is a short and messy, but you get to see such colours…

Extreme Animals- Booty Melt

Extreme Animals’ new album, ‘Let the Music Take you There’ is coming out tomorrow on Vicious Pop records. If Paper Rad had been in charge of the visual styles for GTA IV, the game would have sounded totally like this, tres banging sandbox rave chaos and a mindblowing live show. MEAOW.

Forget everything you have learnt, Left-up-strike-a+-gamma combos and the kinetic eel fist are totally useless against him, he’ll just cast the scaly glamour spell and hover in the air fiddling pensively with his glasses while a dragon flies out of his electric sleeve zig zagging vertiginous like a dream of falling to eat up the energy of your attacks & top up his prog power levels. Typing the underworld mantra to poison him with telegraphic hate force is another waste of time, he can channel that shit through the paths of the fairy folk, turning it into something wholesome and nutritious like fresh goat milk. And then, as you are standing there, panting and wondering what the fuck to do against his colourful resources, he’ll wiggle his bony fingers drawing the shapes of epic dreams transformed into spirals of arpeggiated power, luminescent bars of a gold-gilded cage in which he shall trap you forever, another colourful wild-eyed trophy hanging from the high ceilings of his enchanted castle. The life of a post-gestaltic wrestler is sweaty and cruel, but you get to see such colours…

Ben Butler & Mouse Pad- Mouse Pad Demo

Welcome new lectric sorcerer in the block Ben Butler and mouse pad, who lands in our spot brandishing a ream of schemata describing keyboard configurations to soundtrack a bad mother of a party with Rocky Balboa, Bootsy Collins and Triumvirat headlining. Step in, this is a blast.

Once you sail past the thick mists of the Magenta Sea, and after answering the three questions posed by the Queen of the Sea Snakes (remember the clues you got from the Bodenians), and offering a karma sacrifice (look up ‘karma sacrifice: mild’ in the silver Bible), you should be able to reach Ho-Du-Du island. The hilt of the golden sword lies in an altar in the centre of the abandoned temple at the summit of the spluttering volcano, but before you are granted access you need to convince the witch-doctor of the gentle small people who live in the forests that you are an adventurer of pure heart, in order to do this you need to learn their language and take part in a lunar festival. This is a fierce rhythm game where, through the coordinated articulation of vocal sounds and percussions the Ho-Du-Dus create spiritual threads which are then thrown into the sea and latched into the silvery reflection of the moon. If you do this the right way, the threads should be strong enough to bring this reflection ashore, and its soothing glow will restore your health levels, you should then be ready to face the horrors which await in the labyrinths of the temple. The life of a psychedelic navigator is full of danger and strife, but you get to see such colours…

GOA- Les Étoiles Tombent du Ciel

Montreal highlanders GOA come up, in ’3′ with something both strange and delightful, abstract landscapes endowed with El Guincho’s invigorating tropical power and Mi Ami’s polirhytmic zest, if Les Georges Leningrad had got lost in luxurious forests of a blinding emerald, they would have come out speaking this language.

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And if you haven’t gone to Awesome Tapes from Africa yet, I think you should, now. One of the best music blogs out there.