Refried beans. They’re great on tacos, burritos, enchiladas … I mean, the possibilities are just endless. You cook some beans, you strain em, you mash em up, then you fry em. Refried. Pepper Mill Rondo takes a similar approach to music, cooking up the “drippiest, meltiest nonsense we could conjure,” straining it, mashing it up, then frying all of it in the bowels of a karaoke machine. Also samplers. The result is pure chaos, madness that was clearly so much fun to create that Doug and Max, the Pepper Millers, also unpaid interns (I think) at Hausu Mountain, couldn’t stop at a rational cassette tape length, bulbing the final product out to a bizarre C100 that tests the very confines of patience.
Well, patience really isn’t an issue, since these 33 tracks are basically approximations of attention deficit disorder set to music. That means nothing sits still, and everything is a surprise. Listening to “E.D.M.” is like stepping inside an F5 tornado that’s picking nothing up off the ground except for functioning radios. I mean, “I’m Sitting in a Room” is simply a communication of [something, I lost track] built from song snippets, single words culled from the tunes and unceremoniously jammed together to form sentences and phrases dictated by Max and Doug. That’s just one thing, though — nothing is off limits within the singular imaginative framework of “E.D.M.” “Pepperoni Stick is Bout 2 Breakup” is a metal/nu metal slurry. “Nintendo Legacy” is an 8-bit Nintendo sound card slurry. Everything’s slurry — watch yourself, you’ll slip on whatever spills on the floor in here.
When it comes down to it, if you guys listen to Tabs Out Podcast (check the special P3PP3R R0ND0 episode) — all those triggered samples and dog noises and shit — then you’re going to get what’s going on. Pepper Mill Rondo has pretty much got you covered for the breaks in between recording sessions — almost literally with this massive beast.
Did I mention it only costs a single dollar to buy the physical manifestation of these musics in cassette format? What the hell are you waiting for! This is your McDonald’s dollar menu now, no more empty calories. But if you need more convincing, try before you buy here:
I made a bet with myself before I popped in this tape: I was SURE I could come up with a much more ridiculous artist name than “Shnabubula.” Turns out I couldn’t even come close; the best of my list ended up being “Horsebutter,” “Hollywood Lobster Trio,” and, to completely dive off the deep end and not make any sense, “!!!,” which you would pronounce like “chk chk chk” or “pow pow pow,” depending on how stupid you were feeling at any one moment.* After that it just devolved into Simpsons references, and then I took a nap.
No, “Shnabubula” won out in the end.
Game Genie is Shnabubula’s 651st release,** and that’s because New York nutbag Samuel Ascher-Weiss has been unstoppable since 2015, which is when his Bandcamp page dates from. He’s been blasting so much fucked chiptune up the tailpipe of your parked Lincoln that you probably won’t be able to start it when the cops come and tell you to move along, this is a no-parking zone. He’ll likely end up stealing the quarters from your glovebox along with your city map, too.
Which makes him a great match for Hausu Mountain. Not the tailpipe-blasting or quarter-robbing, but the fucked chiptune, presented ever-so-progly so that it will fit in super nicely to the HausMo catalog. Because nobody does far-out electronic experimentation than the Hausu boys Doug and Max, and Shnabubula ticks all those boxes and then another one: restlessly inventive and intricate video game music.
Eh, eh? Got you hooked there, didn’t I? Plus, you’ve seen the cover of Mukqs’s Walkthrough, right?
Apply Game Genie to any experience, and watch as its magical cheat codes transform the situation into uninhibited bacchanal. I borrowed somebody’s Game Genie once, and it never worked like that, I’ll tell you. The Gameshark I had for my PlayStation worked OK, but you had to feed in individual codes, so it was kind of a pain if you wanted anybody else besides the main character in Chrono Cross to be leveled up all the way from the start, and it never worked in real life. Somehow, Samuel Ascher-Weiss figured out the impossible: how you and everybody in your party can be fully powered up, all the time.
Game Genie drops November 2 on Hausu Mountain. Stream “Eye Trickle Scuba Wagon” while you wait.
This ain’t the first Fire-Toolz video we’ve posted for Skinless X-1, and if we all behave ourselves here at Tiny Mix Tapes, it won’t be the last. We’re doing OK so far — Skinless made our Third Quarter Favorites list (buried at the bottom of page 4, but still), and some brave, brilliant writer — not gonna say who — (it was me) — dropped some sweet dopey love on that sucker. In fact, I’m gonna go so far as to say that if Skinless doesn’t make the year-end 50 albums list, I’m gonna eat my glasses. That’s some straight-up future-peeping premonitional knowledge right there.
So, today you’re in for an extra-special treat, a “twofer” according to Hausu Mountain label co-head Doug Kaplan (I don’t use imaginary words like that). Not only does this head trip of a video contain the music of the song “Screamography,” it also features the bonus track “Second Life”! Well, it’s not really a bonus so much as it’s the second part of the package deal — let’s just say you’re getting two songs for the price of one in this video* (and the price is free!).
Oh — that’s what “twofer” means.
Peep the video below, and buy Fire-Toolz’s Skinless X-1! Hype machine winding… down…
* red sphere in water animation: manda boling
analog footage in second life: christine janokowicz
everything else: angel marcloid
Whether you’re in the market for sphincter-clenchingly outré free jazz (presumably) named after an iconic Little Caesers menu item, or for more pastoral fare abstracting folk traditions, September 21 is your lucky day — that’s when Astral Spirits’ newest batch of free jazz and experimental confections is droppin’.
The batch, which is the label’s 18th, will include releases by Brandon Seabrook Trio, East of the Valley Blues, Brandon Lopez, and Crazy Bread.
Here’s the rundown:
Crazy Bread is the duo of Hausu Mountain’s Max Allison and noted Chicagoan and Switchfoot fan Ryley Walker. Their album, Vocoder Divorce, consists of live-recorded improvisations for guitar and tape deck.
The Brandon Seabrook Trio’s Convulsionaries sees guitarist Brandon Seabrook joined by upright bassist Henry Fraser and cellist Daniel Levin on a set of Seabrook compositions that merge improv with complex composition. Convulsionaries will be released in a limited run of 150 cassettes and 200 CDs.
East of the Valley Blues’ Ressemblera is the fourth album of guitar-based improvisation by brothers Kevin and Patrick Cahill, which follows up last year’s Fayet.
Bassist Brandon Lopez’s new album, the last in the batch, is titled Quoniam Facta Sum Vilis, which translates to the very metal “for I have become vile in the eyes of the lord,” and it is composed as the inverse of the musical logic of Bach’s cello suites—an exercise in rendering “something florid and beautiful
from the violent and erratic and [denying] the supremacy of the wrote in
favor of the intuitive.”
Exciting, no? Yes. For the next three weeks, be sure to keep your eyeballs glued to Astral Spirits Bandcamp page, and in the mean time, dig in to some enticing live vids from Seabrook and East of the Valley Blues to help yet your mind feelin’ free.
It’s been a strange week. THREE days in a row I heard Mr. Big’s “To Be With You” at a grocery store (different times of day, different stores), and lately, I can’t turn on the TV without being confronted by a brain-decaying commercial for instant coffee. I dunno. I haven’t switched medication or slipped between dimension cracks. The one thing I do know is that if the best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup, then your day is going to be a shit tornado.
Not today, my friends! The best part of waking up is a new Fire-Toolz video in your beautiful ugly mugs! Now, you already knew that Angel Marcloid’s new Fire-Toolz album, Skinless X-1, was coming out THIS FRIDAY on Hausu Mountain, but above is a half-week tease for it, in the form of a video for the track “Experience ☆ Slips ☆ Away.”
Directed by Marcloid, who ups the fear quotient like a pro low-budget horror-maker, “Experience ☆ Slips ☆ Away” is textbook F-T: hulking and aggressive, but also possessing hand-made melodic qualities and tense little twists. Oh, it’s also informed by mid-period Rush, of course, as explained by Marcloid below.
The song embodies a gentle longing to be truly present. It is not about being present, but the lightly distracting quality of the longing itself. The song’s implied sentiment is inspired by Rush’s “Time Stand Still.” The spheres represent consciousness. My partner Manda Boling animated the red soccer balls (which represent the/my mind), and everything else is either manipulated stock and YouTube garbage, or whatever I was able to film in my bedroom with an iPhone.
Making an album is tough. Just ask Guns N’ Roses, or The Avalanches, or The Avalanches again in 31 years when their third album comes out. Overthink things too much, and you could start sliding down a slippery slope, second-guessing every decision until suddenly it’s years later, and all you’ve got is a half-baked album and health problems from eating too much Half Baked. Really, it’s best to keep it simple, play what comes to you, and go from there. And hey, if what comes to you are solo compositions that bend expectations of the kinds of sounds a human should be able to produce from the alto saxophone, then go for it!
That’s what Andrew Bernstein did anyway, for An Exploded View of Time, his first full-length LP. Recorded over the course of a single day, Bernstein’s saxophone playing prowess is on full display. Without the aid of looping or delay — save for one track that uses a custom resonance software developed by Bernstein in the music coding language Pure Data — Bernstein blows and blows (and then blows for like way more than you’d think humanly possible) on his instrument of choice, crafting songs that manage to be minimalist, yet also so complex they sound like they could only have been created by some sort of machine. Like a cool, saxophone-playing A.I. whose only data sources are Terry Riley albums and seminars about math formulas.
Seriously, Bernstein’s finger work and breath control are so impressive, they could respectively put Steve Vai and Guybrush Threepwood to shame. Time stretches out into forever as Bernstein shifts moods and techniques, often within the same song, juxtaposing hypnotic runs through scales alongside squalls of pure noise with ease. The songs seem as though they could go in literally any direction, yet the one they end up going feels like the correct one to take.
You’re just going to have to hear it for yourself; listen to Bernstein run laps around the saxophone-playing A.I. community on the song “Broken Arc,” down below. An Exploded View of Time is out September 28 via Hausu Mountain, and can be pre-ordered here.
An Exploded View of Time tracklisting:
01. Vesica Piscis
02. Boogie Woogie Phase
03. Deus Ex Machina
04. Pressure Wave Meditations I – XXIII
05. Broken Arc
07. Round Up
Dustin Wong has grown so FUCKIN’ bored with his usual methodology that he’s decided to SWITCH THINGS UP for the brand new album he just announced1. Yup: he’s throwin’ down some TOTALLY DIFFERENT SYNTHS AND ELECTRONICS, and he’s on a TOTALLY DIFFERENT LABEL, BABY (!!!).
Wait, did I just say new album? Yes! Yes, I did! Wong’s new album is called Fluid World Building 101 With Shaman Bambu, and it’s out both on cassette and digitally via the aforementioned totally different label, Hausu Mountain, on September 14.
The album is Wong’s first solo full-length since 2013’s A Mediation of Ecstatic Energy. (He has, however, put out some collaborative work in the intervening years.) The album complements Wong’s usual guitar with sampling keyboards, and improvised electronic flourishes, according to a press release. “It’s a much less-regimented / grid-oriented affair than his previous solo albums,” sayeth the HausMo folks, “with a lot more improvisation, studio-vibes, and non-guitar instruments.”
Wong has shared a track from the album, “Shaman Bambu’s Portfolio,” which you can listen to below, but if you’d prefer to hear tiny pieces of all the tracks, he’s got you covered too — you can check out a sweet little album trailer below as well, and look at the cover art and full tracklisting while you’re at it.
Fluid World Building 101 With Shaman Bambu tracklisting:
01. Nite Drive with Shaman Bambu
02. World Builder Imagines a City
03. Dawn Thru the Marble Pantheon
04. はずかしがらないで (Don’t Be Ashamed)
05. Village Made of Zephy
06. Shaman Bambu’s Portfolio
07. Cup of Seashells At Neural Tower
08. Desert Via Hovercamel
09. New Societies Interacting, Let’s Zoom In
1. At least I assume this was how things went down.
When Hausu Mountain first dropped Mondo Lava’s hypnotic album Parrot Head Cartridge in 2014, I was swept away by the Davis, CA duo’s blurry drum-circle hallucinations, which followed in the steps of foragers like Dolphins Into the Future in mapping out the trailheads of an island halfway faded to a mirage. Now, the partnership of Jame Kretchum and Leon Roc Hu have returned, taking their jams even further down the path of exotica with the loungey, haunted “Air Walk.” Somewhere between a particularly luscious elevator zone-out and an alternate theme song for that weird resort island in the live-action Scooby-Doo movie, it’s a slippery slide of a track that hints at great, bizarre things to come from Mondo Lava’s forthcoming album, Ogre Heights.
Ogre Heights comes out July 20th on Hausu Mountain, so peruse the vegetation of “Air Walk” until then.
*Sigh…* You know, sometimes writing for Tiny Mix Tapes is hard. It more or less requires that you try and pin some tacky tags like “post-internet” or “nonbinary breakbeat hypo-information vaporcore” to music that is just downright impossible to define. Yeah, yeah I’m whining… But how would you describe the music of Chicago’s resident transcendent transfemme Angel Marcloid? Huh? If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it!?
That’s what I thought, wise guy person. Lucky for you, you don’t have to take my word for it. Hausu Mountain will be releasing a new full-length record from Marcloid’s Fire-Toolz project on August 24. It’s called Skinless X-1 and is sure to blast your skin clean off. Happy now? And since you just can’t wait to hear for yourself the indescribable sonics of this record, you can stream a gorgeous CGI video for “Ἠλύσιον πεδίον 「Elysian Fields」” below, animated by Dane Patterson and edited by Marcloid herself.
I don’t need to tell you what Hausu Mountain is (you’re reading Tiny Mix Tapes for chrissakes!) As for Marcloid, if you’re unfamiliar with her lineage of solo projects, pen names, and collaborations; or are ignorant of last year’s absolutely wicked Interbeing EP, well then that’s just too bad! Man, you really want me to describe this music huh? Well the press release claims her music is sculpted from signifiers of “genres including jazz fusion, electro-industrial, new age, black metal, vaporwave, and noise improv.” Satisfied????
Ughh, I need to go take a walk. Leave me alone, will you? Just run along and pre-order Skinless X-1 on LP, CD, digital, and t-shirt formats. Oh, sorry, wait, my editor says I still haven’t hit my damn word-count quota for this article: internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet internet.
Skinless X-1 tracklisting (emojis not included):
03. Experience ☆ Slips ☆ Away
05. Second Life
06. Response To Subdivisions ☾
08. Ｕｐｐｅｒ Ｐｅｎｉｎｓｕｌａ ②⓪①⑧
09. μακάρων νῆσοι「Fortunate Isles」
10. Ἠλύσιον πεδίον 「Elysian Fields」
11. Λήθη「Lethe 」
12. In The Computer Room @ Dusk
13. Proxy Bay
The last major releases from Eartheater — NYC-based composer/choreographer Alexandra Drewchin — were the double-hit of RIP Chrysalis and Metalepsis. Dropped back in 2015 on Hausu Mountain, both albums used Drewchin’s hardware accented guitar-and-operatic-vocals to build a strange, special, and beautiful discography that, free of easy comparisons, felt a little like a planet unto itself.
Of course, a lot has happened in the world since 2015. And although Eartheater’s newest record IRISIRI (out now on PAN) leans into sounds that appear much darker and harder — including Drewchin’s meticulous use of electronics now taking more of a lead — the truth remains that nothing sounds quite like Eartheater.
On the heels of the video for album-orbiting track “Claustra” and the release of IRISIRI, we had the chance to catch up with Alex on the phone one afternoon.
Can I ask what your astrological sign is?
[Laughs] I’m a Pisces/Leo/Scorpio.
Do you feel any sort of connection to those signs?
In all the mirrors that reflect reality, they all receive ourselves, so, I mean… Humans are paranoid schizophrenics when it comes to pattern recognition and that shit. It’s a decision, really. Sometimes it’s very useful for me to be like, “Oh, it’s just because I’m a Pisces.” I’m not doubting the planetary, astral pull, but people spout on that shit constantly.
It’s a little interesting that people who are about our age are looking back to these kind of ancient tools, like astrology and the Tarot, and reclaiming them in a very internet-based sort of a way.
As far as an oracle that I will admit to consulting, I really love the I Ching. My good old friend Greg Fox turned me onto it — I think I was probably 20, and he gave me an I Ching workbook, and I found it to be very helpful. You know, it’s one of the oldest texts in the world. It’s based on chance. What I like to do is throw the I Ching. To me, it’s much more gratifying — it’s like I’m engaging in some choreography, harnessing my energy and really able to focus and manifest myself into the situation. You ask it a question, but I try not to ask it a question in words. I try to close my eyes and put [myself] in this hypothetical place where there’s this infinite number of outcomes. I know it sounds a little abstract, but that’s part of the beauty of it. It’s sort of synesthetic.
In a lot of your music, it seems like you’re taking these forms that feel ancient and putting them alongside sounds that appear more contemporary. IRISIRI feels very “of the millennium.” Could you talk a little about the beginnings of the record and what were the first pieces that came up?
I never work consecutively. I don’t work in a linear fashion. The record that I first sent Bill [Kouligas, PAN label head] had mostly all completely different songs than what ended up on [IRISIRI]. It really was just a matter of chaos and chance that these were the songs that ended up [on it], because we were getting down to the wire, and I was like, “Okay! These are the ones.” Because they all have a specific through-thread, in spite of them exploring very different sound palettes. [“Claustra”] I consider to be part of the record — I’m calling it a “ghost track.” I know that’s creating some kind of obfuscation, for press and capitalism, but to me, it’s part of the whole thing. There was a limitation — I could only have 40 minutes on that record. In some ways, I feel like the next thing I need to do is release an IRISIRI Two and Three. Pull some Migos shit, just because there’s so much music. IRISIRI to me spans much farther than just the perimeter of just this particular tracked record.
What would you say is that through-thread of this bigger project?
I think that, maybe to a fault, I’m overly emotionally inspired by different expressions and sounds. I have this huge impulse to try all these different things, and I think that’s what it is, ultimately. It’s purging all of these intense desires just to sort of get it out, because I do sense that there are some much more focused, more modal-sounding records underneath. I feel like I’m in this purging of pent-up inspiration that is almost conflicting inspiration.
Your albums sound very composed and controlled, and I’ve wondered to what extent are those kinds of explorations present on the records, or whether that’s something you keep private?
I’m such an emotional creature. When I listen to the record, it’s like I’m watching a movie.
I definitely thought long and hard about the sequence of these songs and the way that the narrative happens. Everything was pretty symbolic in terms of the placement of each track. I’ve heard that they say, “Oh, yeah, you need to put all the singles up in the front,” because, you know, millennial attention span is, like, nil. I didn’t buy into that, obviously, on this record. I was like, “I’m going to put the really weird, conceptual, saccharine, lusty-ass track up there,” because that seemed like what the “film” needed. Then “Curtains” is the seventh track, and that’s the centerpoint of the 13 tracks, so that’s the intermission, which symbolizes a switch, and then the next song is “Switch”…
When you’re making a record, is there a point when you know what you’re working on is part of a whole? When does that center begin to form?
I’ve made so much music that didn’t even wind up on the record, so when I think about these particular songs, I need to comb through all of the stuff that is still attached, in my view of it, that nobody else can see or understand. I think the thing that is different about this record is that I actively wanted to challenge my comfort zone. With Metalepsis and RIP Chrysalis, I was functioning from a very comfortable place. Even the guitar as a blueprint instrument, things just flow out so naturally that way. So I wanted to challenge myself. On each track, I was trying to explore something different from the track before. And it wasn’t, “I’m going to master this one thing for this record, all the songs are going to sound cohesive in this particular new flex.” With Camae [Moor Mother]’s track [“MMXXX”], I got really obsessed with cutting up all these field-recorded glass sounds, and car doors slamming, and engine sounds, and painting in these micro-edits. And I’d never done anything like that before, ever, and I was just so pumped on it. Even little things, like, “I’m going to throw in the 3-against-4 woodblock polyrhythm sound” — and for all these techno kids out here who are probably just like, “Well yeah, duh,” for me, as the guitar, little romantic RIP Chrysalis/Eartheater baby, that was really exciting.
Then the same with the Odwalla1221 track [“Inhale Baby”]. I made so many tracks like that, this hyper, glitchy, ambient drama. I made that one track, and I was just, like, “This is for Odwalla, they need to be on this.” So that was a new thing for me, exploring producing a track and feeling like I don’t have to be the vocalist.
And then with the tracks “Not Worried” and “Inkling,” this sibling little duo thing happened. That came from a sort of cosmic, internet artist love affair between me and Ghost Drank, this adorable baby in Dallas — you should check out his visual art; it’s gorgeous. He secretly produces a lot, and this weird thing happened where he would send me a track, and I would just write a song in one take right over it, and both of those songs are just first take, all the lyrics right there, and I’d just double it and it was done. Those tracks really mean a lot to me. They’re very emotional and sweet.
For some reason, I feel like those tracks are like “Be Careful” on the new Cardi B record [Invasion Of Privacy], and the way that people didn’t expect that from her. They didn’t expect this more gentle music. My last two records were very melodic and soothing. People would say, like, “This is my bathtub record.” Meanwhile, my performances are summoning hell very often.
I saw you play at St. Vitus a while ago, and I remember thinking, “This is a very dark performance.”
It was probably that embarrassing one.
It felt very ceremonial.
I’m actually not a very witchy person. [Laughs] And then the track “MTTM” (“Married To The Moment”), that track is all modular. It was the second modular track that I made. So there’s a lot of infantile moments on the record. It’s all new things. And “Switch,” that was literally one of the first beats I ever made that wasn’t hardware. Every track is kind of standalone in me trying to figure out something new.
Something that comes up in your lyrics a lot is the idea of transforming from one thing into another thing, whether it’s some kind of body cyborg thing or something more internal. Like in the video you made for [mispronounces “Ecdysisyphis”] —
“Ecdysisyphis.” I’m so extra with the titles sometimes.
That same human/computer energy is really present on the new album. At what point in the recording process did that energy take over?
I think it was very present from the beginning. The post-RIP Chrysalis Eartheater was for sure really feeling that “The Internet Is Handmade” through-thread, which goes through all three records. It’s just so much a part of me, it’s hard to even talk about.
Thinking about the album as a film, to you does that mean more of a sensory, visual thing, or a long piece of narrative?
Both. I hope that it can remain pretty free-associative. I think the more you listen to the album, the more you’ll feel the characters — the parts of me, the different voices, the different feelings, the different moods that become like characters in this thing. I don’t know if it comes off super personal, because it’s all drenched in encryption at times, but it does feel very exposing to me. So maybe it’s me also protecting myself from feeling that vulnerability in viewing it as a film, to sort of separate the almost triggering emotions that can happen when I listen and hear these encapsulated emotional pockets.
Does thinking of IRISIRI as a film make it feel less or more personal?
It makes it feel less personal, but that doesn’t lessen the emotional intensity. I generally am mostly drawn to art that is very explicit and intimate and grotesque and strange and unpredictable. Something that I really love in film is the power of the scene cut — the change of scene and the change of atmosphere. I love feeling that one’s hormones and adrenaline and chemicals in your brain respond to the difference in how a film is edited. The difference you feel in a song like “C.L.I.T.” versus what you feel at the beginning, in a song like “Inkling” or “MTTM,” that arc — the different landscapes, that hyper-difference — is way more exciting to me than just a modal landscape. At least now, in the drama of this. There’s this emotional thing that’s going on, and there’s this structural thing. All these different scenes. The tracks all have their own locations.
So much of what Eartheater is — in your videos of performances — is movement-based. Do you see the choreography being as much a part of “Eartheater” as the songwriting and the albums? And how do you differentiate between working in those two modes?
One is a simulacrum from the other. I can feel the movement for a specific nuance in the body for every single song, every single lyric. Every little thing can be so clearly expressed and drawn out physically. That language — I flip-flop from feeling like it’s very hard to express myself to then feeling a hyper-sense of poetry in language. And sometimes that’s really frustrating for me, at least verbally. As a child, I was a really late reader. I had terrible dyslexia and was brutally teased because I could hardly read, and I had terrible test anxiety. But ever since I was young, I felt an incredible sense of body language. It becomes kind of an abstract concept, but I feel like I’m much more comfortable speaking with movement than I am sometimes even just speaking with words. It’s where I actually feel the most life and the most pleasure. That trinity of music, lyrics, and movement — it wouldn’t be a triad without that last point of movement. It’s absolutely one shape.
Other that Cardi B, is there any other art right now that you’re hype on?
[Laughs] Yeah fuck it, I love Cardi. I was in the studio with MOMA READY. He makes such beautiful dance music, and he’s also a really good dancer, and that was a cool moment that happened recently. We made a track really fast. I don’t know, I love my friends. That’s all I can think about, really. You know, my FLUCT girls, I love them so much. And Tara-Jo Tashna, she did an incredible performance at Company Gallery in Manhattan. It was so gorgeous… And then Deli Girls, I love those babies. I’m forever in love with Juliana Huxtable. I work with AceMo, they’re the best. Shoutout AceMo. Shoutout graveyards. Uh… I’m looking at the books next to my bed. Octavia Butler, Lilith’s Brood. Shoutout The Gentrification of the Mind by Sarah Schulman, an amazing book. Witness To A Lost Imagination, this book is fuckin’ good. Oh then of course Jacques Attali, Noise: The Political Economy of Music. Shoutout cactuses, jade, aloe, palm trees… I am in this place where I feel like this gooey little worm. I feel like such a little baby, and really open, and it’s probably not cool. But the baby is there. Big time.