January 16, 2014
I’m proud to announce dRed’s new EP “
Lights Turn to Sound” dropping on Fuzzy Panda. It’s entitled “Lights Turn to Sound” and features a slight shift of directions for me, exploring more noisy ambient soundscapes with chaotic low-end. Tag Cloud inspired “She Puts Her Hair in a Bonnet”, whenever I hear him perform I always hear in my head various other textures and I tried to recreate some of them here. “Panic in the Bathroom of the Club” tries to recall that sweaty feeling waiting for a drug to kick in the bathroom of a club, a semi-panic ensues (is it working or is it working too good?) and then it starts to kick in and you’re there. “Stealthoscope” is a noisy unpolished adventure into what a raw abrasion which is what I was looking to create.
August 10, 2013
It was dark and rainy that day, when I learned how much I hate you
Your face should be smashed like a watermelon at a Gallagher show
I’d like to have you over for dinner so I can feed you some badly cooked Japanese blowfish.
Your stomach would bled from the inside out as if your insides are already rotten
I’ll pull out your intestines and tie a knot in ‘em
You’re a dunce that I’d like to see just once be splattered across every wall like you’re in an Itchy and Scratchy cartoon death
I’ll commit you to a mental ward and hide metal spikes underneath your padded room
I wish you were aborted, you’re a fucking problem from womb to tomb.
You suck every ounce of oxygen and don’t return carbon d, and while we’re at it, get off my D and get on my nutsack, actually fuck that you can have the ass crack.
But that’s after I hit up the Taco Bell for a spell and go on a week-long bender, but don’t worry for you, it’ll be like hoovering up lavender.
You have enough grains of salt to fill a 50-foot hourglass
And not enough time to let a hummingbird blink
You’re such a son-of-a-bitch, you make blood turn into an alcoholic drink
Forget plucking your eyebrows you need to pluck your eyelids just to see what’s staring you right in the face
And after you do it, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Mr. Can of Mace
You’re the motherfucker, who actually would fuck his own moms, comb your hair and say
Ayyyy just like the Fonz
I’d like to stretch your lower lip over your face and make you swallow, nah fuck that I’d rather feed you bombs
Punch you like a drunk clown, take you across town, grab a blunt knife, threaten your life, saw off your hands and flick you in the stumps with rubberbands
Then finally buttfuck you with a bottle and smash it, so you shit glass right outta your ass
In other words, I guess what I’m saying is HOW DARE YOU CUT ME OFF WHEN I’M DRIVING!?!? NEXT TIME USE A BLINKER.
July 24, 2013
A bird, a plane? Superman?
No it’s a drone!
This great nation under watch with a micro lens
Every white knuckled response is scrutinized and analyzed
And we got three letters of gestapo the NSA, FBI, CIA, DEA to watch us
Ssh be quiet, the hivemind is thinking and parsing
Trying to figure out where we belong and where we fit
Should we be there, what’s the outcome, who do we know, why do we know?
Taking pictures of our license plates not just for a ticket and…
Reading our tweets and our Facebook posts
Our emails and our porn habits
Snowden wagging his fingers warning us of privacy wars
Seal Team Six saying it’s okay we just killed a bin Laden
The media told us there it’s all fair and balanced and the algorithms
Reassured us that we won’t be watched – it’s just the foreigners ya see.
We went on living like this wasn’t a known fact and we couldn’t erase it
Nixon started it all and Bush sealed it with his Act of Patriot
But party politics and the hyperbolic fears steered us to oblivion
But we always knew this was happening didn’t we?
Those terrorists couldn’t be stopped and couldn’t be killed without it right?
The low low buzz and camera snaps of the New World Google Earth
Keep us all in check and have them staring at the sky in foreign Arab nations
So what’s the outrage, net-net it’s a good thing – RIGHT?
The light shining through the PRISM is sunlight and we’re all getting a little tanner
But that’s just it.
Now the racial profiling is for all of us – white, black, Hispanic, Asian, doesn’t matter to a lone drone.
We just have to log on to see it and feel it.
Everybody’s all paranoid like right behind them is a Bookstore Depository and the grassy knoll is right up ahead after the bend
And today the drones aim at us all because our names are Sir Trayvon al-Awlaki Joe Smith and their missiles hit our twitter followers like they were the Stasi in East Germany
But this flag, no it’s colors won’t run and neither will we, though that grassy knoll up ahead looks awful inviting
But ssh, the drone’s overhead and I hear it’s engine sputtering and maybe that means it’s running out of fuel
And maybe this time – we’re the Exxon that can put a hex on the whole affair