Gaia’s sister is made of concrete and chrome, and she has two faces. One face has a name, its name is Jane of the mixed use and the vibrant neighbourhood. The other face doesn’t have a name, it has many names (which is the same thing), you will see them graffitied in cul-de-sacs and tattooed in the arms of transients, projected in a new kind of sky by the glaring insect eyes of the beast that coils below.
Babylon, Metropolis, Gotham, Big Smoke, you know the archetype.
If Gaia operates like a homeostatic system, her dark sister acts viral, vertically and horizontally, spreading like a Sim City iteration loaded with assets designed by Zaha Hadid and H.R. Giger.
The modern tradition of Chicago dance arcana works as a collection of hymns to her metastasis and darkest symptoms: aberrant sex, murderous tendencies, noise pollution, harmful design, an addiction we can’t get out of, like in VALIS’ recent remix of Joie Noire, a beastly disco creeper sloppy and awesome like pheromone italo-lipstick smeared over Molly Millions’ retractable claws, closing in for the kill over a max contrast zoetrope.
Golden Birthday’s ‘Eqlipst’ illustrates this mutant dusk at the micro level, and in doing so, feels like the coda of Last Highway’s unreleased prequel: Arquette and Pullman content & quiet like 1950s dolls in a chiaroscuro mock-up, no saxophone, rather, a Talking Heads 12’’ spinning in a stainless steel turntable, lovers rock straight off the new wave swamp that Carly ransacked to become eternal. And then the sinister presence glides in like a Badalamenti spectre, a manta ray of weird vibes.
Something comes over them, glimpse of violence in their eyes, a psychic infestation.
Fade in black, or maybe red.