However this muthafucker ended up in my earholes, I'm happy about it. I don't remember where it came from, but I have a distinct feeling a pasty black rapper from just south of the Canadas posted a video on faceboogs and I randomly hit play as I went about my business investigating composting and solar water pumpz.
Now that I think about it, I'm certain that muthafucker Milo, the indie rapper everyone is blowing because I blew him first, randomly threw up a video of his on the aforementioned faceboogs.
I hit play. I geeked the Fuck out. I googled him. I emailed him. We became besties. He forked over his music. I'm now sitting here making Del jealous because this muthafucker's music is fucking delicious and he never included him on one of his flackmarks mixers. HI DEL! Fuck YOU BRO BRO! I WIN B'BRO!
Dogtanion's S W I T Z E R L A N D, or as it's pronounced in English "penis", is the musical equivalent of an evening spent telling yourself you're going to just have a few cocktails and get some rest but you wake up with a matchbook from a wiccan bookstore and the shaved palm of a spider monkey in the breast pocket of your button down. It's as electronically fucking banging as anything I've ever jumped head first into, and while I didn't necessarily expect to be as smitten with it as I am, it's fucking perfect.
From the jump off with the track Cheap, I'm all synthetic claps, bass from the hotel room next-door to you, confusedly enjoyable synths that trail behind and in front of the backing vocals that feel like no other word I can use besides "meth", Dogtanion's Swiss-shit is fucking perfectly welcoming. Bringing electro forward and indie backward, the entire fucking plate is filled with shit you'd expect to hate on by itself, but when paired the way this puppy prepares it, everything is topless inebriation while sticking your upper half out the sunroof of a fucking complimentary limo.
While I hate the fact I get so wrapped up in the mental imagery of my own personal drunktank, S W I T Z E R L A N D is unbelievably cheap portable stereo turned wall of sound in a tiny corner of a seedy hotel, and I've never wanted to bathe in something so intentionally as I have inside this entire EP. It's the vocals panning left to right, overdubbed with low pass filtered harmonies, interrupted by the introspective strike of a keyboard, everything feels so intentional and so accidental, I would rather stab my throat with a cocktail straw than turn the shit off.
From bmm tss bmm tss to casually fucking murdering shit in an electronic manner I can only compare to what the noises sound like in my dreams, Dogtanion's first insertion into my ear vagina is a pleasant one. Seven tracks, seven perfect fucking songs.
SOMEONE GET THIS DUDE MY BUSINESS CARD. I don't have business cards, but how dope would it be to have business cards and have someone else hand them out like they're scared of what I would do if they didn't immediately plant the business card in the outstretched hand of the person I demanded have my business card?