BRB

My computer is all kinds of fucked up---fortunately I had all my tunes backed up elsewhere, but getting everything migrated and going again is taking a little time. Should be going strong again by the start of next month. Until then...

Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See

from the LP When Disaster Strikes…, Elektra Records, 1997



Remember when MTV actually played music videos…? I know, that’s an overused quandary by people my age these days, but damn---the ignorant-ass shit that channel is laying on the youth of today has got to be a hundred times worse for them than even the edgiest or most unabashedly lewd music videos from back in the ‘80s & ‘90s. Although, that was an era when being a “music video director” still came with a lot of cachet if you did it well (not to mention money…), and the video for this eternally slammin’ cut from Busta is a perfect example. Director Hype Williams basically made his name in music videos, this one being among his finest; essentially a redux of Coming to America, the whole vibe of this track was magnified several times thanks to Williams’ psychedelic & surreal directorial vision (those tribal day-glo warriors sealed the deal for me). This song also happens to be the joint, with that Timbaland-inspired beat which never losses its freshness, and Busta’s ridiculously hot rhymes, “…hit you with the shit make you feel it all in your toes, hot shit got all you niggas in wet clothes; stylin my metaphors when I formulate my flows, if you don't know you're fuckin with lyrical player pros…” Word.

Anarchy in the U.K.

from the LP Never Mind the Bollocks…, Warner Bros Records, 1977



I’ve purposely avoided posting these guys for nearly two years now, and frankly, I’m not even sure why I’ve decided to do so now… Much like the perennial “Beatles or Stones” inquisition, there has always been a similarly banal (and ultimately fruitless) deliberation given to us alternative folks, that being: the Clash or the Sex Pistols? Although I mostly loathe these social litmus tests (…Clash, obviously…), they do serve in clarifying for an individual part of what you look for in your musical experience, substance or symbolism. While I adored these ugly blokes as a teenager, their catalog hasn’t aged quite as well to my ears as has many of their peers’ stacks---granted, this lone LP was their only fully legitimate studio work apart from compilations, so one could argue that they are at a disadvantage there; and anyways, PiL was leagues more interesting & revolutionary than this stuff. That said, a couple of the more iconic numbers from this album, including this cut (my all-time favorite), will forever serve as ancestral anthems to the disillusioned, discombobulated, disenchanted & disgusted masses.

Murderous (Instrumental)

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