Category Archives: Hype Williams

20jazzfunkgreats best of 2010: The Atlantidan Metaphysical Circus

Lo and behold the starwanderers as they continue their ramblings inside a box of black space lined with gold thread, chronological boundary for the holy year that was 2010. Here we report the risky explorations that over this  period tore asunder the walls of reality to fetch from the amorphous manifold beyond nutritious morsels of quantum pop which which we watered our garden and fed the livestock. Such were the strange flowers that grew thereafter, and the ancient tongues with which our beasts proclaimed.

Ariel Pink and his Haunted Graffiti: Before Today. News at 11. Pop prophet transforms utopian fish into crumbling DIY bread, masses flock  to worship at his bedroom temple.

Ariel Pink & His Haunted Graffiti- Fright Nights (Nevermore) (Posted on April 21)


Arp – The Soft Wave.  Cluster and Eno and Rilley and Georgopoulos.  Ringside seats in an amphitheatre at the edge of time.

Arp – Pastoral Symphony: I. Dominoes II. Infinity Room (posted September 3rd)


Arp and Anthony Moore: FRKWYS Vol. 3. Lullabies for wide-eyed children destined for polymathematic stardom.

Arp and Anthony Moore- Spinette (posted on April the 5th)


CFCF: The River. Mies Van der Rohe built an exquisite Canal de Amazonia to make Fitzcarraldo’s job easier.

CFCF- The River (Piano Version) (Posted November the 8th)


Delia Gonzales & Gavin Russom – Track 5.  In everyone’s life there’s one album that has a disproportionate pull on you.  Something that, ‘objectively’ is very good, but which has an almost supernatural hold on you above and beyond that. An album which can evoke pure moments of transcendent bliss.  Imagine if, after five years a missing piece was released.

Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom – Track 5 (New Post)


Hounds of Hate: Head Anthem. Organic ghost machine music that circles the sleeping victim like a shadow pygmy tribe armed with ancient spells of compelling abstraction.

Hounds of Hate- Purple Stuff (Posted November the 2nd)


Hunx and his Punx: Gay Singles. Nuggetbagging, rather than teabagging. John Waters would be proud.

Hunx and his Punx- U Don’t Like Rock and Roll (New Post)


Hype Williams: Find Out What Happens When People Stop Being Polite and Start Getting Reel.

Perchance the last addition to these terminal celebrations, and a timely one. Hype Williams have animated 20jazzfunkgreats séances with feeric liquors over which glide pixies imported from Chicago and Kingston, shouting their wares in a cloud of voodoo tags. Their gift is a graphic novel of panels that blur in Steranko fever. Sade drowns in an ocean of pavement syrup, while the chaotic transmissions of a thousand pirate radios converge in the neon sky above, like a Batman sign for much darker heroes

Hype Williams- The Throning (new post)


International Feel: The Coptic Sun.That apocryphal chapter of Invisible Cities that Italo Calvino wrote under the influence of a particularly strong strain of Peyote, or the destination point of Conan’s pilgrimage if Thulsa Doom was only a conduit into the psychedelic stargate, rather than a dirty reptilian worshipper.

International Feel: The Coptic Sun (Posted September the 30th)


Male Bonding: Nothing Hurts. Mixtape fodder for teenage punk heroes.

Male Bonding- Weird Feelings (new post)


Mi Ami: Steal your Face. A growing crescendo calling out across decades of electric guitars, rusting in the salt heavy sea air.

Mi Ami- Dreamers (Posted April the 9th)


Paul Rosales: Wonder Wheel I.  ‘Crimes’ is exactly the sort of thing we wanna hear when we’re selling out, its unselfconsciously wrought unplanned energy is our 20 inch rims, its atonality is our leather dashboard which we caress whilst cruising illicit streets to do deals with shadowy figures who hand us parcels full of the highest grade low fidelity shit which we now sell to you at the vastly inflated price of £0

Paul Rosales- Crimes (Posted July the 8th)


Plug: S/T. This is our minimal wave. DIY electro-pop to take over your life.

Plug- Don’t Forget It (New Post)


Pocahaunted: Make it Real. Block rocking beats that Big Daddy Kane could have freestyled over as delivered by the Shaggs’ feral skull faced reverse.

Pocahaunted- Make it Real (posted May 17)


Skeletal System – s/t & Small Talk.  This is our dream-pop: full of watery ill defined shapes and haunted guitar lines.  Will surely be placing highly on Peel’s Festive Netherworld 50.

Skeletal System – Dialogue (posted April 23rd)


VA: Deutsche Elektronische Musik. The sounds that rebuilt Germany, and built us.

Gila- This Morning (Posted May 11)


As a bonus, we leave you with Harrison Owen’s video for Excepter’s Anastasia, included in The Late EP in Woodsist, riding the razor edge between sex and violence in the best tradition of the Psychoterrorist squad that taught us all, and the most fucked up of all transcendental meditators (circa Nadja, and pumped on colour).

We wish you a twisted transition across the no-man’s land between Christmas and the end of the Year, we shall be waiting for you on the other side.

Sci Fi Saved Me From a Life of Crime

Featuring : DMX Krew + Hype Williams

We ran out of fuel before we could reach space. Our crops were ravaged by mutant plagues. We are at war against the invisible, frontiers between paranoid nations turned into scorched no man’s lands patrolled by death squads on a prophylactic mission. We have regressed to the days before the Industrial Revolution, cheap labour and animals providing the energy that we need to keep the economy going. We live in the contraction. It’s a slower world. You can hear it in the music, in the night clubs of Bangkok illuminated by phosphorescent slugs under which illegal wind up girls dance languorously amongst pillars of opium smoke, to the syrupy rhythm of pop tunes produced following strict energy conservation principles, our musicians can’t speed forwards so they extend sideways. We nod in intoxicated reverie, perhaps it has all been for the best.

(Paolo Bacigalupi’s ‘The Wind Up Girl’ won this year’s Hugo Award. You should read it.)

Hype Williams-Rescue Dawn III

Hype Williams are an ebony cypher leaning subliminally over the underground’s sludgy quagmire, in a league of their own away from the morbid efforts of the drag empire. We have been delving in and out of their most recent Do Roids and Kill Everything 7”, in semi-comatose convalescence as our circadian rhythms recover from the blow of the transitions between their low gravity voodoo habitat and normality. Say, Rescue Dawn III. It sounds like soul butter spread over Chicago’s psycho-geography, dub bridges connecting the space-time shard of chi-house primitivism with a pulsating Rorschach cloud where juke shadows work their feet in the midst of a stroboscopic storm. Worth the shock.

Project Moore’s Law into infinity: storage space and processing power enough to contain a human consciousness. Add nano-machines to reproduce it into the flesh. It is then when software becomes the essence, and wetware an illusion, death, ageing and conventional physical considerations rendered null. Same for diseases, save for those that afflict software, ergo, the mysterious censorship virus which infected the A-gates through which we actualise ourselves and travel, selectively erasing bits of our memory, imploding the Republic of Is into warring fiefs, Billions died, history became zero, followed by a question mark.  We listen to the musics of those forgotten centuries in wonder, searching for insights into what the humans of the dark ages felt as technology pulled their souls into the gravity well of the accelerated now.

(Charles Stross’ Glasshouse is a classic of modern sci fi, we have only scratched the surface of its mindblowing vision in the blurb above)

DMX Krew- Mr. Blue

Perhaps with hope and exhilaration? One surely would think so after skating through the magnificent LED avenues of Wave Funk, the latest output from the labs of the synthomancer himself, EDMX of DMX Krew fame, as released by Rephlex. This is a double CD which covers all the bases, from meditative electroacustics to UR style psychedelic metropolis jams, odd borg skanking and out-takes from what should have been the soundtrack for Ghosts of Mars. And boogie, of course, lots of boogie with a pixelated nod to Jaco Pastorius and Harold Faltenmeyer, as exemplified by the wonderfully humoured Mr. Blue, fantastic theme tune for a Geekoramic ‘Tomorrow’s World’ re-enactement as presented by a LSD  rendition of Sir Clive Sinclair and Data General Computers all-star breakdancing squad.

Living with Hyperbole

An appeal.

As many people who work in ‘the biz’ will know, press releases are full of half-truths and exaggeration. In some countries it is actually law that an official press release should contain at least 60% bullshit, and many States have now set up Government funded watchdogs to ensure that these fallicentric dockets represent artists’ work or careers with all the realism of a Matthew Barney film. The British department is located in a grey town, somewhere on a drab industrial estate, on the most tepid floor of a jaded office block. There, upon a depressive swivel sits a deflated hump, a dissolving presence which once bore a resemblance to the definition of a man.

His name is Mr. Albert R Tasteamacher. Years of rewriting fact into rabidly fantastical overstatement have rendered his hands into Goyaesque lumps of modernist bone structure, his eyes now vacant pinpricks, broadcasting emptyness like the dying gasps of a cathode ray tube.  Eternal decades of compulsory embellishment have driven his once youthful and lucid mind into a soggy ditch of permanent linguistic garnish, where the tyres of his sanity spin frictionless in the mud.

Mealtimes in the Tasteamacher household are at best, an ordeal. It was the usual scene at this morning’s breakfast in his drab suburban yawnpit, his long suffering wife Elsa prepares while Albert sits, rocking, staring at the wall with the whispered voice of Edward Bernays liasing internally with his inner monologue. Staring considerately into the open fridge she asks her husband

“What would you like on your toast this morning Alb, Jam or Marmalade?”

Albert’s rodent eyes light up and he springs into action.

“Jam please! Have you heard about Jam? It’s already shaping up to be one of THE preserves of 2010 and has already been featured on the likes of toast, cakes, scones and yoghurt!”

Elsa sighs.

“Albert, we need to talk.” She begins to cry. “I don’t know who you are anymore, I feel like you don’t love me……”

Albert interjects

“I Feel Like You Don’t Love Me’ is the hotly tipped new comment from Elsa Tasteamacher and is highly anticipated to be completely ignored by husband. Recorded over breakfast in a semi-detached in Neasden, this heart wrenching new release from the lady who brought you such epic tearjerkers as ‘why don’t we talk anymore’ and ‘Albert, I’m leaving you’ is set to be as big in the clubs as it is on the radio…….”

Thousands of people like Elsa have to live with Hyperbole everyday. Some receive no help from family and friends and are forced to cope with this terrible disease alone. Hyperbolics can be cured but it is a long and arduous process. Can you help? You need not send money. All that we ask is that you take most things you read with a pinch of salt. If enough people do this then people like Albert will be out of a job and freed from Hyperbolic stasis for life. Together we can reunite Albert and Elsa and rid this world a world of a dreadful affliction.

Let’s begin now. Even though we’ve been co-opted by ‘the man’ their 0% stake wasn’t enough to cover our semi-annual budget deficit of £0. This means we had to foreclose on this quarter with a net profit of £0 which we will now have to use as equity to secure a loan of £0 in order to continue on the next quarter with a healthy margin of £0. What this means in practice is that we don’t have to send our reviews to Albert R Tasteamacher for proofing and editing just yet. But when the Modest Mouse CDs starting turning up in a Jiffy Bag (TM) with a gram of coke, we will let you know.

Paul A Rosales – Crimes

Someone else already posted because we’re slackerzzz. But we love this guy and we look forward to his album very much. Paul collaborates with R Stevie Moore dontchaknow. This leads us to wonder why we never posted RSM before so we will be writing this wrong in about 3 sentences time. ‘Crimes’ is exactly the sort of thing we wanna hear when we’re selling out, its unselfconsciously wrought unplanned energy is our 20 inch rims, its atonality is our leather dashboard which we caress whilst cruising illicit street to do deals with shadowy figures who hand us parcels full of the highest grade low fidelity shit which we now sell to you at the vastly inflated price of £0. Crimes 7 out now, Wonder Wheel 1 is out in a few weeks. Both on Care in the Community.

About 3 sentences ago we decided it was time for some R Stevie on 20jfg.

R Stevie Moore – I Wish I Could Sing

Is everyone familiar with RSM? Do we need to write about how influential this guy is? When 20jfg was 14 and learning the guitar we wish that we had known about R, perhaps our life would have taken a somewhat different direction. Maybe we would have realised at an earlier age that making music is only about the pure expression of one’s personality, and the rest is just a construct. With a back catalogue as full as Scrooge Mcduck’s money bins, we really should do an entire RSM feature soon. In any case, these short words pay are meant to pay as much homage as we can squeeze in today.

When we’re up in our Ivory Tower picking off peasants with our solid gold shotguns, we need to find something soothing to play in the background.

Hype Williams – Problem Chalice pt 4

Sometime ago we introduced you to vast creative empire of Hype Willams. Lucky enough to escape the curse of being tarred with the Drag/Chillwave/Whatever-Lazy-Journalists-Want-to-Come-up-With-Next brush, they finally have some waxes out. Problem Chalice 4 is taken from a 12′ out now on Carnivals and is frankly where it’s at for your resonant psychedelic-yacht-rock needs, an inexplicable vocal cast away across a sea of shimmering Sade pads. Just Blaze.

Oh and if you’re going to be in London this August, you could do a lot worse than visit their first solo show at Space gallery. We don’t pretend to know much about art, but this is big tings apparently.

The Reunion Special

Hello. My name is Genuine Guy. One day, whilst lost in the dark forests of Neukölln I encountered a wise sage who entrusted me with a password. It was the password to a realm I once inhabited but had left behind, drawn away like a magpie, by the treasure of another. The treasure proved to be real, but in order to keep it, it was required of me to sacrifice 2 of my 3 dimensions, and my capacity for rational thought. I managed to escape from the operating table, ran to the nearest glowing terminus and entered the password. And so here I find myself. I hope to re-encounter this sage sometime soon, as he has rescued me. But here I give thanks to him as I know he reads this blog (the forest has WI-FI).

But there is a 3rd realm in this story. One also left behind, but not forgotten.

To be any kind of bohemian in London these days requires a bold, resourceful attitude. Or a shitload of money. Not being blessed with the latter, my beloved and sorely missed ex-flatmates are both shining examples of the former.


Separated only by a thin sheet of plasterboard, the embryonic stages of London’s Hype Williams was a daily occurrence in my life for several months. Their rapid metamorphosis, from initial stabs at guitar based slo-mo Americana to full blown, freeform art-project (now featuring floating members of 20JFG faves, Arch M and Hounds of Hate) has been truly outstanding. They told me they didn’t have anything interesting to say. But their re-contextualization of things absorbed whilst growing up and living in a messed up, multicultural capital lends their work an extra significance, that perhaps they are not aware of.

Hype Williams – mvp ’94

MVP ’94 is a hook laden access point to the more, seemingly unwitting, profound depth and experimental nature of their world. Here, the cold detachment and bass driven musics of London are assimilated and regurgitated via a genuinely DIY aesthetic, the harmonius echo-chambers of Telepathe or Gang Gang Dance and played back at the downer-induced tempo of DJ Screw. Music aside, the skewed appropriation of misogynist booty house lyrics via female vocals, is alone, a very bold and interesting statement.

Hype Williams – Feltt

More recently, lyrics are abandoned. Here, in favour of an indecipherable emotive incantation, lending a voice of hope to the hauntingly skeletal and astrally bleak post-punk dronescape beneath. Hype Williams aka Paradise Sisters have just dropped a new tape which you can buy here. Keep an eye on Ceylan Projects for news of many exciting things, involving members of the band and their affiliates.


Apart from sharing a building, the art of my ex-roomies is connected via a natural talent to reinvent certain racial stereotypes. Often incorrectly labelled as Riot Grrl, because there’s an apparently angry ‘girl in the band’ (dude, get over it) Akiko from Comanechi, attempts to stand against certain ideas about her national identity as a female, rather than just being a female. Although influenced by the music (but not necessarily the politics) of Bikini Kill et al, Comanechi are straight-up, balls out rock-stars, an exhilarating, and highly sexual (again, sex not politics) collision of j-pop and doom metal. Here, as the rather more 20JFG-worthy, and awesome Ghosthunter remix has been posted elsewhere, I present to you my own take on their music. I was handed a very beautiful song and could do nothing more than add a different backing. Lost on the GG storage device for a whole year, it is my gift to you. Their debut album is out now on Merok.

Comanechi – Close Enough to Kiss (Genuine Guy remix)

If this post seems rather nepotistic and self-promoting, I can assure you I am here for neither reason. I will be posting many things that I and my friends have made, altered, collaborated or just generally been involved with over the coming months as the beginnings of a possible new dimension for the blog, and the many characters in the 20JFG universe. This project is still in the research stages and will be unveiled soon.

In the meantime, as a further peace offering to you, the xxjfg reader, for such a long period of neglection, I give you this mix. Nothing you haven’t heard before, just a bunch of stuff that in my mind works very well together. It’s good to be back.

Genuine Guy – 20jazzfunkgreats mixtape 1


1. Terry Riley – You’re No Good
2. Rekid – 85 Space
3. Siriusmo – Wow
4. Natasha ft Clipse – So Sick
5. Flying Lotus -Melt
6. Slyvester – I Need Somebody to Love Tonight
7. Scotti Coats – Lude Boy the Rude Boy
8. Pan Sonic – Puhdistus
9. Cluster – Kekse
10. Bottin – Endless Mother