Choon of the Day

Not sure if she’s talking about San Pedro near Marbella, but it’s a dump. Why is she dreaming about it?

This the theme music for every time I'm out on the street stacking ps in other words every day.
Just pips bmf to the post for best Ross record.

I'm fond of the people on the internet/Twitter dedicated to pointing out that Rick Ross probably never even met Manuel Noriega, and that if he did, then the number of favours due to him was likely to be rather less than a hundred.

Such obscurity isn’t merely for poetic purposes however. Cryptolects such as rhyming slang and Polari are centuries-old secret languages, often used to communicate without being understood by law enforcement. The use of the word “shush” in drill lyrics to replace the names of victims and weapons as well as to describe specific acts of criminality is testament to this

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Snap

i wrote a big article about it but the website that were going to publish it got in some racial controversy, so thought it best not to go with it for now at least.

this is one of those songs that's ubiquitous throughout the rest of the world, but hasn’t penetrated past into the m25 (occupied as we are with stabbing and africans seeing god in cleanliness and material acquisition). so it’s very much a sex tour song for me.

i didn’t like it when i first heard it. that’s partly down to being what third calls an ‘innovation nut’, but it’s also the bleakness. the chord progression’s a bit off. it’s slower than it should be. sparser. it took a while to get to grips with the pop of it.

“something in you, lit up heaven in me” is where it really gets going. its like one of those people whose smile makes you smile. sonic charisma. but a memory for them. yearning. meeting someone at a party and falling in love, but never seeing them again. you fall in love with people you know the least. or maybe its arrogance. love for the self in a very literal sense. i’m genuinely in love with myself. touching yourself. the warms emanating from your belly.

then the chorus. pop at its best is inventing new playground chants. that’s why nelly’s great. jamaican’s are great at it. it sounds like something you should’ve heard a million times. a pocket full of poses. pure singing in the mirror with a hair brush as a microphone.

that instrumental post chorus is somewhat feverish. the sluggish reverse piano. if the brass were to be fantasia-style anthropomorphised they’d have down syndrome.

Corpsey said:

Is that from your book?

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He's saying you plagiarised him again.

more just making sure that if it got published and he read it he wouldn't go "that cunt nicked my idea without asking".

You can always abandon it in a fit of shame and leave it to whomever among us is the most nakedly mediocre but eager to make money. That's how the greats do it.

corpsey- editor

luka- agony aunt

thirdform- social media

craner- flagship columnist

dripping with ego. chrome gold skin.

came across this not too long ago when i saw Matmos down Camden Deiter Mobius, Tim Story and Jon Leidecker aka Wobbly out of Negativland the 2nd of two albums they did together

i really like it