barty do this one until youve worked out all its angles and trajectories and velocities. the sprung tension of it. the engineering.
reverb and sound of the drums- a cave and all the cultural connotations that go with it. plato, Muhammad, zarathustra. a sense of archetypal weight and grandeur. solitary. wet-sand coloured walls lit by firelight torches. visionaries. the burning bush.
the rhythm of the drums- slightly panicked. when you’re a bit overwhelmed. my bus is in 5 minutes and i can’t find my fucking keys!
there’s a faint sound of a sample in the background of the break- sounds like a memory. stumbling. an uncomfortable gulp. a seraphic whisper; just a snippet. the breath of the engineers.
rakim- it’s got the feeling of a little boy and role-playing as being a wrestler or something. it has no pretence to it; you really do feel like a wrestler, you forget you’re 6 years old you completely inhabit the fantasy. a little boy from south east london doing an american accent to be like someone from a film.
rakim’s flow- you know when you do an impression of a dumb person and you lean your head side to side with a nursery rhyme bounce? playful, silly, singing songs on the carpet in primary school.
rakim’s flow 2- at times it transcends that and it sounds like sheets or ice or tiny tectonic plates intersecting underneath one another. three of them.
the melody and sound of the guitar- adds to that sense of camp theatrics; sounds like a tacky tv serial from the past; adam wests batman or something.
the chicken squawk that first comes in at 0:26- speaking in tongues. a flash of an insignia. mania. exorcism. orgasm in a cheap, humid turkish hostel. hot candle wax on skin. bondage. an s&m club in the red room in twin peaks. sweaty brow. fever. a bad trip. animal sacrifice.
1:08- camp theatrics again.
there’s generally a charge to the whole thing. screw faced. determined. sureness and sturdiness of gait.