The piano sounds like a jet stream; simultaneously vaporous and metallic. Intangible and scraping. Like gasping for air; the friction of breath in the throat. The stifling feeling of not being able to get enough in. there’s something housey about it, i could imagine disclosure or someone using, in terms of attack, similar timbres. sometimes it has faint feeling of a car stalling. something tidal about it’s velocity.
Melodically it has the same step-by-step, one at a time ascent upwards and climb down as wiley’s ‘ground zero’ or danny weeds ‘creeper’, but doesn’t have the same connotation of childlike plodding as those melodies. It’s dark and exotic. h.r. giger music.
then there are those things i always thought of as snares, that thirdform and blackdown refer to as hi hats. sounds like when people play snares at carnivals. i’m sure someone posted loads of people playing drums at a carnival on here the other day, so a bit like that. it bops and bounces. something disembodied about it though. again, there’s a tidal quality to it. this linear build up and waining of intensity.
that kick is authoritarian. it’s a populist demagogue. amidst confusion and ambiguity it asserts itself boldly. the beat is the weimar republic and that first kick is hitler. but as as the ‘main’ beat (the slow one, not the jittery one) unfolds and manifests it looses that. snares flick off at angular arbitrary points. like ‘dropping bombs’ in jazz. these accents will establish structure only for it to be incomplete. to evaporate unresolved. there are three ‘snare' sounds in a back and forth; 808, gun shot and a reggaeish ‘clang’ that sounds all exotic.
the way the bass bitches down reminds of me downs syndrome eyes. the wobble board pops remind me of a lurching snake. the way there heads bob back and forth in this weird cardboard way.
the rapping has a bouncy quality when it gets going, like a playground taunt (russ bases his whole style around this quality). military barking orders type emphasis on ev-er-ry sin-gle- syl-a-ble. as much as i’m wary of headie one and think he’s a bad rapper, when i first heard that ‘think i do juju’ thing i was amazed. it was this exciting moment. london’s african identity asserting itself in a completely different emotional context than it had done for the rest of the decade.