“This is an open letter inviting you to explore a special selection of audio/visual pleasures culled from my own musical and artistic associations and associates. This is the cult of audio.” – Audioccult Vol. 1
“In the old days, they’d go, ‘Hey, that old man died.’ Now, they go, ‘Hey, he lost his battle.’ That’s no way to end your life, you know? What a loser that guy was. Last thing he did was lose.” – Norm MacDonald
I started Audioccult shortly after I began working with Electronic Beats, in 2011. It was conceived as a way to showcase small, weird bands I thought were cool; bands that otherwise wouldn’t get coverage on such a wide platform. Over time, it became a repository for Lovecraftian fanfics about Lisa Frank and Roseanne, guides to the perfect summer or emerging fashion trends, thought-pieces on the arts, and controversial opinions about dogs—each with a soundtrack comprised of my favorite recent underground sounds. But the days of blazing in my desk chair and letting my brain splash itself across electronicbeats.net are over. I can talk about Taco Bell and ghost dildos as much as I want, to myself in the mirror. The death of TeenWorld. “WAKE ME UP INSIDE. BRING ME BACK TO LIFE.” – Me to Anna Nicole Smith in a dream.
But it’s what I’ve been saying all along: the living no longer matter. We feed on and regurgitate our dead in ways that would make their ghosts scream if they hadn’t already been recycled into iPod cases. Aaliyah reaches across the void to communicate sorrow; unfortunately her message becomes obscured beneath Drake’s burbles and baby-coos.
You say One Direction, I say Tupac Hologram
You say Skrillex, I say Whitney Houston
You say Aphex Twin, I say Kurt Cobain
You say Sia, I say Sia in four years (cast bones don’t lie, sad-but-true.wav)
You say Chelsea Wolfe, I say Per Yngve ‘Dead’ Ohlin
You say Kanye, I say Biggie Hologram (coming 12/21/16)
98% of teenagers continue to listen to living artists. If you are part of the 2% that believe the opinions of the living are void and worthless and that only the dead should be allowed to speak and grace our ears with wisdom from the next plane, share this with ten friends so that I make more money.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the last four years with me, unearthing strange sounds and words. Immense gratitude to Simona and Shaltmira, whose illustrations elevated my words immeasurably. I’ll still write things about mostly Prurient apparently on EB, and will continue to mentally ejaculate across a variety of other places, including my own³ BlackBlackGold and UnReaL. So if you liked this, you’ll loathe and despise that. Don’t click these links to lose an enslaved iPad. Also there’s now an unaffiliated Audioccult record store in NYC. It looks cool. Bye!
Extinguish the candle. Clean the sigils off the floor. And slowly, gently, inhale your soul—remember that? You can have it back. This was Audioccult, and now it’s time to arise.