Is there a better way to connect the dots between 60 years of high-energy dance music than to do a happy hardcore remix of “Do You Love Me” by The Contours? It comes from the visionary mind of Lexxy Jax, who is behind the most recent Brooklyn booking of another raver with a jack-style name: Flapjack The Kandi Kid. Of course I found this song in Flapjack’s Instagram stories. He’s the HHC plug.
I think writing about music twice a week for seven months has broken my brain; it is actually impossible for me to tell you if this flip of “The Choice Is Yours” by Black Sheep is in any way good. It’s got that timeless litefeet bounce, which, if I’m speaking freely as a washed millennial, I might like just as much as the drill cha cha wobble. I’ve always had a soft spot for Swizz Beatz. It has dawned on me that I am only featuring artists from New York this week.
If you make it a decade in the city, do you get gifted with a wooden pair of Timbs? I could live the rest of my life here and not feel like a New Yorker. Out on Show Me The Body’s Corpus imprint, Posterboy 2000’s new single sounds like a general MIDI take on The Screamers; his solo digipunx freakout style gives me flashbacks to the days when kids in short shorts would scream into microphones. Good video.
If we are going full Big Apple for the week, we might as well feature the current band named after the city. One of the more confusing and exciting live acts I have seen in years, New York has that ill dorm room knee noise iTunes visualizer style. Their newest interpolates a Ladytron song.
RealYungPhil and Evilgiane are a great NYC combo, even though Phil is from Connecticut. So is Chloë Sevigny. I can picture a critic calling their strand of rap “backpack drill.” I feel bad for even putting that term out into the world—not sure if it’s in any way accurate, really—but I can’t help the dumb thoughts that pass through my mind as I listen to music.
MIX OF THE WEEK: The Dever “The King Of New York Vol. 1”
This tape popped up on my YouTube feed yesterday. Probably just a coincidence… The Dever claims he is the Trance King Of New York. Who am I to argue? Here we have 128 minutes of the stuff; it’s from the late ‘90s and it’s rugged enough to be used as background music in, dear god, another scene in the middling A24 rave movie I have been composing in my head: the after-hours party where the protagonist tries smoking angel dust for the first time.