Atmosphere

The Family Sign

8
8/10
Joel Frieders | April 12, 2011

Yea, I know. I'm biased. I'm close personal friends with Sir Slug. We cookout at each other's houses (although he doesn't know that). We play ball on the weekends (I watch him from the bushes). I give him tips on knife techniques to use against rabid fans (I pray he never uses them on me again). We exchange gifts on holidays and birthdays (I've only received two back with RETURN TO SENDER, so I assume he kept the others).

But Slug and co have a new musical compact disc for sale at your local Tower Records, I'm not here to show off the pictures of our matching tattoos. Not only is it a great fucking record, it shows that I've influenced him as a friend quite a bit.

*ok fer seriousnesses, I was justs joshings peopled, come off the high horses*

The latest from Atmosphere shows growth in every sense of the word. From Slug taking his story telling to new extremes, Ant becoming as tasteful as we all knew he could be, the guitar player/keyboard player duo making beautiful fucking music, the complete package of Atmosphere is unFuckwitable.

Sure, I prefer my Slug like I like my baseball team, hard hitting and confident (I'm a Cubs fan so I haven't seen this in never), but there is a delicateness to this album that I had a hard time appreciating the first three times through. What I wasn't paying attention to was Slug slyly shoving his talent-schwanz into the part of my brain that reacts more to inference than direct suggestion. The things that I find myself loving most about the album are the things that Slug doesn't do as much anymore.

Slug isn't creating catchy hooks or recording himself laughing at himself by himself, but rather writing stories and love letters and stoned philosophy missives that he's writing more for himself than those of us who appreciate his music. I think one of the things that real musicians grow into is when they're willing to try new things they aren't doing it for you.

He's doing this shit for Sean.

The song Became is fucking awesome musically, but on the third listen when I noticed the storytelling involved, I was creepily aroused at the imagery and descriptive talents that this dude has matured into. It's almost as if he was always wearing these big ass hats, and his little ears always poked out like a cute little hip hopper, then over time the same size hat stopped falling off on stage cause he was becoming the rapper he wanted to become. I'm pretty sure you can't hide ears as big as Slug's, but at least he's finally grown into them. Awwww. What a cutie. *I just tussled the air*

The move towards more organic music and less hip hop hip hop makes perfect fucking sense to me. I'm growing up, and I don't want that boom bap shit all the fucking time. Especially from someone who already killed that shit over the past decade or whatever (dude is pretty fucking old).

Slug and Anthony and the two hairy fuckers who make the music on Ant's command (I hear they get paid in Pez and DVD rentals) did well. And by did well, I mean I like this record so much more than Paint That shit Gold.

Sean, call me.
Hairy fuckers, shave.
Anthony, grow the hair back.

Love,
Dad