Audioccult Vol. 10: The Sex Edition

Light a candle. Draw the required sigils. Now, raise your arms above your head and slowly, gently, exhale your soul. You won’t need it here. This is Audioccult, and it’s time to get low.

Some like it hot. Some like it running screaming at the wall and punching it furiously and tearing down the curtains while screaming ‘BLEAUGGGHH I NEED TO GET FUUUUCKED’ and then getting grounded because this world is based around a horrible and corrupt system. But hey, there’s always eargasms. If there’s any modern musician who can instantly absorb me into a world of pure emotion, it’s Holy Other. The man makes pure audio reverence, dense and thick as treacle yet so intimate, sensual. ‘Love Some1’ is the first look inside the pulsating depths of his upcoming debut LP Held, and when that vocal drops your ears will drip. Until The Air Runs Out, the upcoming debut from Nightmare Fortress, is arousing on a different level: it’s another fine example of excellent goth music being made completely separate from the goth scene (which I’m fairly sure is the only way to make good goth music). ‘Hang You On The Wall’ is my asphyxiation fixation, bursts of choral snippets punctuated by buzzing synth stabs and a driving beat sure to soak foggy dancefloors in sweat.

There’s something about reconceptualization that’s just so sexy. I love a good mix-fux, especially when it takes the best of the old and thrusts it against the best of the new. Weed Nirvana has done this a few times in the past (I also recommend the Will Smith/Burzum one) but Death Grips‘ trash-rap vocals over Cocteau Twins‘ growling, Garlands-era guitars are pretty much prime brain-boner material. “If I were any happier, I’d need a book.” – Dan, Roseanne.

Babes is full of them. The project, which seems to be an amoebic supergroup of avant-gardists (including Diva Dompe and Liz Armstrong), just released a new track mixed by alien love goddess Labanna Babalon. It’s a pounding, eight-minute cut of shrieking noise-rave, and it will give you the release you need.

Oh hey, remember House of Balloons? God, that was a good mixtape. Dark, gritty R&B and Siouxsie samples; what more do you want? Apparently producer Abel Tesfaye wants considerably less, because nearly every Weeknd release since then has been as unmemorable as it is unappealing. His recent leak of a couple unreleased tracks gets a mention only because everybody I know is dropping trou’ over them despite how extremely radio-simple they sound. As Tesfaye sheds the last remnants of what made him interesting to begin with and the The-Dream comparisons become more apt, here’s an easy guide to follow when you’re unsure if you’re listening to The-Dream or The Weeknd: check your junk out. Studies show that it is literally impossible to be aroused in the presence of The Weeknds’ music. Is your vag getting super dry and shriveled, like something you find on the beach during low tide? Dink sucking itself up into your belly in the manner of a beast? You’re listening to the Weeknd.

Actually Huizenga‘s delicious illicitness, however, only seems to grow. The LA singer/filmmaker has been pumping out some many flesh-tones lately that I have trouble keeping up (though her tumblr helps) but this is probably her wettest look since SoftRock II. Nymphos get vampy and trampy and partially topless, so if you’re reading this at work you should let your boss see all the making-out and boobs and then you’ll get promoted because bosses are really cool.

I don’t have any sexy phrases or whatever for this Young Hunting remix, but who cares. If you want to fuck something, fuck themes. Young Hunting own.

When he’s not writing and editing for Electronic Beats, Daniel Jones is a music promoter and creator of the subculture reconceptualization & aesthetics tumblr Black Black Gold.

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Audioccult Vol. 9: The Light Edition

Light a candle. Draw the required sigils. Now, raise your arms above your head and slowly, gently, exhale your soul. You won’t need it here. This is Audioccult, and it’s time to get low.

At times it’s very easy to escape into the massively overused adjective ‘dark’, especially when it comes to music. Maybe you have a not-so-secret goth past. Maybe you just sometimes feel like you’re trapped in an unknown Charlie Brown special where all character voices are replaced with eerie piping tune without structure or melody. You lean over and slowly lift up Marcie’s glasses; her eyebrows keep rising as you peek underneath and there’s another pair of glasses waiting just for you. Her mouth opens and second-person consciousness fades: ‘you’ becomes ‘I’ as all aspects of the Peanut multiverse are absorbed into me. As my eyes are replaces by a crystalline infinity of wailing Snoopy car ornaments, a red star shines over Bethlehem.

But. BUT. It’s summer. Life is beautiful, and the sun shines harder. Evil is killed by the tantric steel of the phurba: this week is about Light.

Celestial Light. Fight Bite is an aural embrace, a liquid pool of sound that envelops the id, caressing and soothing. Self-titled album, self-healing music.

The Light of Forgiveness. Suicide absolves you of life, but what can absolve you of your sins after death? Will you find your name in the Book of Life? Does Goku chill in heaven with Whitney? This Svpreme Fiend remix of How To Dress Well’s ‘Suicide Dream 2’ has no answers. It was already created with all the voice it will ever have, yet this is but a fragment of the whole.

Vintage Light. I stood next to you, Balam Acab. Now I’m in your house, a place you never thought I’d be. I’m in your home. I have some stock footage for you. David Bowie is sitting on your chest. He has knives for eyes. Matt Damon peers in to the room. Both are talking softly and laughing with each other; there’s real trust between these two. It’s palpable even through the poor quality of the medium (shot in grainy black-and-white 8MM, obviously).

Lil Light. All the Lil’s join forces to create wave of .gifs wherein all the Bigs (Pun, Sean, Notorious etc.) begin to freestyle and then an unlikely amount of severed penises start falling out of their mouths. An example of sour grapes gives us knowledge that reality is as malleable as music genres.

The Light of Pop. What does the word pop even mean anymore? Nothing. Nothing. There is no underground. Maribel‘s glorious ‘Jezebel Jive’ is swept away by Keep Shelly In Athens, taken above. To subvert mainstream ideals in a perfect track: paradise.

Labanna Light. Manifest waves in your beach life.

Stay in the Light: enhance your existence with knowledge of the “Real World”. Do not post online. Never reblog. Reblogging is Big Tumblr’s way of cashing in on your likes and dislikes. Don’t believe the lie. Don’t let Uncle Internet dictate what you can and can’t bury. Stay free and turn your dead pets into helicopters.

When he’s not writing and editing for Electronic Beats, Daniel Jones is a music promoter and creator of the subculture reconceptualization & aesthetics tumblr Gucci Goth.

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