Few backlog reviews go round the outside, round the outside, round the outside. Which means, the ever loved game of chance comes back to bring love to those that missed it. However, since love is fleeting, truly time is of the essence so one line is all it will be this spin around the wheel.
title: THE TIME TO COME
artist: ELI WINTER
tags: experimental, blue hole, experimental folk, folk guitar, guitar music, houston, indie, indie folk, singer-songwriter, Chicago
I thought the time to come was when your partner was satisfied.
tags: electronic, supersonic, ambient
My word, they finally got us a working link!
artist: Daniel Ruiz
tags: slow rock, organ, slow dance, shadows, body, is, that, a, sink, she’s, leaning, on, oh, they, have, tags, listed, let, me, put, those, in, here, one, sec, mate, indie, blues, ha, i, already, put, organ, I’m, smart, and, observant, guitar, ok, missed, that, one, barcelona, barthelona, diy
Russian roulette is a lyric and is therefore halfway relevant to this write-up here even though I gotta go fast right now and it’s slow so what can ya do.
title: Made Me Wanna Change My Name – EP
tags: shoes, hand, words, names, inspiration, release, chain, jacket, facial, hair, ear
More like made me wanna change the station/playlist/stream/whatever.
title: Weather Calculator
tags: electronic, experimental, ambient, analog synthesizer, chill, instrumental, intrumental minimal, minimal techno, psychedelic sequencer, synthwave, trance, westcoast, California
Who needs drums when you have a calculator that fucking calculates THE weather?
tags: monokle, wols, galun, Techno, Electronic, Pop
I don’t know about you but this album is SO FEET.
title: Rum Sodomy and the Crash
tags: electronic, melbourne, acid, experimental electronic, noise, psychedelic, techno, washington, mild, sauce
With a title like Rum Sodomy, I was expecting this to be rather destructive to my bowels but I was sadly disappointed.
tags: electronic, acid, brooklyn, cybergoth, dark techno, dubtechno, freakatone, industrial, noise, sludge, sludge techno, spectral techno, New York
Meanwhile, at the broken copier convention…
artist: The Moth Poets
tags: experimental, electronica, experimental, pop rock…, United Kingdom
This doll is a chef/moth poet and I wonder what his secret ingredient is (probably salt because it looks kinda basic to be perfectly frank).
Oh no! It appears the gears have been switched into the bulky bulkies. The kind of unexpected surprise that is the forgotten chimichanga left in the microwave only to be discovered again when hunger is at an all time high. The need for more words is upon us and so prepare to feast on them post haste! Be sure to jettison your earthly anal coils.
artist: Cash Pony
tags: oakland rock, heavy jazz, psychedelic, shred,Oakland
It’s fun. It’s dancey. I really feel like it’s screaming out for some vocals BUT THEY DIDN’T CHOOSE TO PUT ANY ON HERE SO SUCKS TO BE ME AH HA HA HA HA.
It’s like the one time you’re going to your favoritate taqueria and normally you don’t want salsa, but this time you do but they don’t have any and then you start contemplating that you should have gone to your second favorite one whilst shoving down the sauceless taco down your throat in a fit of spite and regret.
Still, pretty damn good taco though.
I give it a solid 4 chimichangas:
artist: knives of spain
tags: 21st-c. trobairitz, crumar, world, electroacoustic, experimental, art song, cicadas, dark, female, female solo artist, hypnogogic neofolk, solo, synth, North Carolina
Now, I can already tell that there are going to be a lot of people that would or will come to like this release. It’s got that type of flavor to it. However, is it quite frozen chimichanga flavor? Caffein Ate investigates.
Caffeinate: I’m here on the scene, in spirit, in North Carolina, where knives of spain resides. Now, typically during one of these reports I would get one my hands at knees and lap my tongue against a rock however today we do something different.
Caffeinate scoops up a pile of dirt and slams it into his mouth. He begins to chew slowly, and methodically, as if tasting a lover for the first time. Continuously he stares towards stage left by left-right before snapping his head towards the camera.
Caffeinate: Well folks, it doesn’t taste like chimichanga.
So, then, what does it taste like? Is it something similar? Well, fear not friends, I decided to take a listen and find out for you. To do so however, let’s try a little exercise. Grab the link below and open it. Start the album. Close your eyes. Imagine, sitting in a green gaming chair, with a plate of chimichangas to your left. Smell them. Eat them. Let the tones waft over you. Be me, and listen to what I’m listening to. I don’t think that was very hypnotic, although perhaps it was slightly arousing. I can only hope.
However before we get to the mat and the meater and the meters of met, I have made an astonishing revelation. If you just tweak the pronunciation a little knives of spain becomes knives ofs pain. Waiting and ants can be painful. Ant mandibles could be considered small knives. I think I’ve cracked the code if I do say so myself but enough of hidden machinations, time for the tones.
To get serious for a moment, this artist is greatly talented. Telluric is put together and stays together rather well. And you know what, I just got to ants. It leads me to a state of labored breathing, and a tingling that crawls and buries it beneath my skin. Each breath turning the engine that is a growing and expanding glow of musical lust. So good. I suppose a better way to say it would be that it forces a certain sensuality into the listener. Makes you want to cut your tongue on your teeth.
However, overall, the soul is restless, and whilst it is melancholic and hauntingly mesmerizing it just isn’t quite my flavor all the time. That all said…
I give it a solid 5 chimichangas:
Ya know what though, it’s pretty
f u c k i n g g o o d
Which is incredible seeing as this slipped through our sights for such a long time (this was sent in around October of 2016!)
artist: Michael Robinson
title: Ocean Avenue
tags: classical, alt-classical, computer, electronic, world, Los Angeles
Let us see what the angelic male offspring of a red bird can do.
OH GOD. ALREADY WE’RE AT PEAK AURAL PLEASURE. HOLD ONTO YOUR SEATS. LAY DOWN IF YOU HAVE TO. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHH. FUCK. JUST WHEN I THINK MY SENSITIVE FLESH GETS A CHANCE TO CALM DOWN THOSE HORNS BLAST WAVES OF ECSTASY TO MY BRAIN AND MY SHRIVELED AND WRINKLED AND SOGGY AND PRUNED ,LOINS DUE TO THE AMOUNT OF SWEAT AND BODILY FLUIDS ARE LEAKING OUT DUE TO MY SEVERE EXCITATION, CAN’T HELP BUT QUIVER IN HELPLESSNESS.
The closest I can come to a visual representation of chimichangas is this:
That’s the artist by the way.
Round and round and round we went, until we were all but spent. The initial rotations building the excitement in our flesh, the anticipation of even greater things to arrive, and soon. The lethargic, lop-sided rotations begin to smooth out into a soothing whir. Until, the speed begins to grow. Imperceptibly, it notches up a gear, one by one, until the comfortable and lofty plateau begins to shear away, suddenly lost and torn from the comfort of our once cozily inhabited perspective. Becoming painfully aware of the perspiration that is clinging onto our flesh for dear life, the blood forced to this part and that part as we continue to spin in silence. The pressure begins to build, the stomach to tighten, and the nausea trickles through our body, consuming all thought. The ravenous, the insatiable, hunger of dizzy. The abdominal muscles contract in irregular rhythmic waves, until the gut purges out the decided upon offender. Spew and gush and splash and flow, until nothing but gagging and brief grunts are heard. Then the strange calm of peace as the wheel grinds to a halt. Also, perhaps a quick brush and a rinse so that we can save our enamel.
Tune in next time friends, I’m sure we’ll have another hell of a ride.