I love living in the future, as you well know. Every day we are bombarded with fuckeries, but the glory outweighs all of that, in my humble opinion. Every day we are bombarded with glory, like cosmic rays.
When I was a little boy, my favorite toy was Lego. We'd inherited a bunch if it from somewhere, and we had a ton of the stuff in a bucket, that grew a little bigger every Christmas, like my Grandpa's waistline. We used to pour it all out onto a blanket, and build cities and spaceships and monsters for hours, as the rain poured down outside. Lego was more primitive in those days. No stubble or eyepatches or any of that shit. I remember when Pirate Lego was introduced - the first Lego to have more than eyeballs and a smile on the little yellow heads. With Pirate Lego came the potential for a more expressive and individualised Lego. It was a revelation. I wrote letters to Lego Headquarters begging for Lego that was themed around my favourite things. I longed for Thundercats and He-Man lego. For Adam & The Ants and Anne Of Green Gables Lego. For me Lego.
Twenty odd years later, we're in the future, my mate Gwilym just spent £300 on a giant Lego Star Wars construct of some kind, and these wonderful humans have made some goddamn Akira The Don Lego. There it is at the top of the post, with a copy of my most recent comic strip in hand. Resplendent. This is the future I dreamed of. Pinch me.
OK, don't pinch me. It hurts. Instead, join me in raising a glass to Gemma from Kitchbits, who made that lovely thing, and go swag them out with your custom. They make all sorts of cool stuff. That was the future I dreamed of - a future in which people made cool stuff... and here were are.
Check this out:
POW! How dope is THAT? Time, that amazing emcee I discovered via a Twitter add, in a manner that will likely never happen again, has been working on a video for our awesome transatlantic musical collaboration Full Metal Alchemist. Thatssright Bubba. A transatlantic video collaboration. For we dwell in the future, a glorious, hitherto unimagined era in which humas meet and create art between the physical world and that ghostworld... The Digital.
The video is gonna be flipping sweet. I've seen Time's first bit. Like he says, it's got everyting you could want... food. Bullets. A gun.
You need to check Time if you haven't. He is amazing. He reminds me of me, but more cyberpunk. Check out his mixtape/album Ramenswag for a pretty fucking ace and trippy introduction to his world.
Meanwhile, another of my transatlantic rap superfriends, Bay Area boy wonder and Viper-rider ISSUE, has been speaking (digitally, natch), with the Seattle Times about our forthcoming collaborative project, World's Finest.
I am very excited about this record. Issue sent me 22 pieces of music, by him, Georgio Momurder, Drew Money, Scoot Foo and Schwartz to consider for the thing, and I feel fucking spoiled. What are they putting in the water in The Bay lately? There is so much amazing music coming out of there it is getting stupid by this point. Issue's new mixtape, Moonroof 2 dropped today, and it is a thing of incredible beauty and wonder, download it right now and turn the lights off. And if you haven't checked it yet, here's me and Issue's second collaboration (the first was 17 Year Old Blonde Girl & A Bottle Of Acid from Saturnalia Superman), THE LAMBORGHINIS, from his awesome Pig mixtape.
Meanwhile, the remixes keep coming in. This just came through Twitter:
I was like, yeah! And then I go this:
Which is pretty flipping fly. Works excellently during the verses and breakdown I thought. I think the choruses are a little abrasive for the tone of the music. Maybe if they were pitched down, or chopped up a lot, or overtly reverbed and brought down in the mix they'd sit easier. Either way, the music is brilliant. Propiau.
Propiau is pigeon Welsh for "props", before you ask. And speaking of which, Zef and I went to Bethnal Green Working Men's Club last night to take part in a LITERARY LIBRARY EXPERIENCE. Some weird mime people straight out of an episode of Spaced made noises at each other for 7 minutes, an Irishman told 95% of a fairy story an illiterate old friend of his had had transcribed from a dream, and Martin Carr and Eternaly Young Huw and Gruff Rhys performed a beautiful suite, held together by the oceaneesque strum of guitar triplets and delightful abortion-themed harmonising. It was a pretty surreal experience, now I think about it.
There they are, in front of a fucking massive and dope painting. I want to make a painting like that.
That's one of the pieces of paper they gave us. Oh yeah, the night was called The American Forever, Etc. - A Library, a presentation of The Brautigan Book Club. I believe it is going to be a regular thing, celebrating the works of Richard Brautigan, of whom I must admit I had previously never heard.
And that's me and my lil' bro Zef. He lives in London now, so I can call him up at 5:30 pm and invite him out to gigs. That is a very special thing, brothers and sisters.