Welcome back to our weekly suck-off-fest of artists that we love and think you should too.
This week we have a nice stew of unknowns and little knows that are making beautiful and heart breakingly delicious music. Everything here might not fit your tastes but I guarantee you will find at least two artists that blow your foreskin back and clean the head with some Armor All making that fucker all shiny and new.
We are also proud to introduce our newest contributor the internet mystery man known only as Employee. He writes the way he lives - honest, hilarious and naked from the waste down. We are proud to have him on board as a member of the SYFFAL staff.
In addition to Employee who introduces us to one of the Bay Area's finest hip hop artists - hint it isn't a white girl who says nigger a lot; we have Tom talking about some bearded freak who may or may not be addicted to wine spritzers.
Joel once again changed his mind last minute and removed the effeminate Nancy boy Brits for some down home Chicago Soul, and by that I mean a Blues Brothers video featuring Jim Belushi and John Goodman.
Tim in his continued quest to secure an inter-species life partner features a wookie who raps.
Del forgot about the project and submitted some band that he always talks about, at least he was so rushed he couldn't include a fucking gif and 27 hyperlinks.
Brandon actually finally got an assignment right and dumped a dude that looks like Adrian Brody but sings like Jesus if Jesus was sad and wore ascots into our laps.
And Dick, well Dick is just cooler than Freddie Prinze Sr.
So let's jump into this fucker, STOP SLEEPING STARTS NOW!
"And I'm not bashful to say, you get talked about wit' no hesitation, a/k/a your shit ain't cool, it was just like studio time-wastin..."
Dave Dub don't dance. Never has, never will. But he does spit tough. "Daring A Ruler", the latest cut to surface from his lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng-awaited debut The Treatment, is spot-on San Jose. In a mere ninety-seconds he tackles philosophy, cray metaphysical shit, spontaneous violence, and how to dispense of biters and snakes. All the better is Tape Masta Steph's revamped production prowess. It bounces alongside Dave like a partner in crime with its chunky bass and buoyant break. It also serves as a likely snapshot of Dave's so-called "debut" LP.
Debut is in the douche quotes above only because Dr. Dave Dub is the underground's elder statement in the South Bay. If you're worth your weight in seventeenth-generation dub tapes and you were born and bred in "San Hopeless" (San Jose), you've probably heard most of this album already: through dubs, multiple versions of certain songs, and, to an extent, what are local anthems. However, for the rest of the world this will be its first healthy dose of Dave and his scorched earth philosophy.
Cure yourself with The Treament here.
John Gold's album 'A Flower In Your Head' was released last year around this time. And for some reason if I have been sleeping on artist I automatically assume you have been too. Whether this is the case or not, STOP SLEEPING on John Gold. This album is....just...so...chill. The description on his facebook page simply and accurately reads "Summer breeze makes me feel fine." The laid back vocals automatically sweep you into a dream like state and the choruses are uplifting and warm. Check out his bandcamp site here and in addition to watching the stellar video below MAKE SURE you listened to the third track: 'Baby It's Your Life.' It's perfect.
So this dude I know named Meaty Ogre started his own record label (bout damn time muthafucker) called Cherries Records and his first 45 release is a two song drop of this dude named Doug Shorts. Who the Fuck is Doug Shorts? Doug Shorts is a sing sanger from Cabrini Green in Chicago (where Candyman came from) and he sounds like the guy you pass on the street that you wish would sing so you could tell your friends about. It's this relaxed, perfect 'guy singing over a shitty boombox playing a dusty 45 dubbed on a half melted cassette', and it's just one of the many reasons I love Chicago. If you aren't turned on, chilled out, half erect after Fuckin' with this dude, you are probably either a eunuch, unable to sweat anything besides meat fat, or just a piece of shit. DOUG SHORTS WHUT.
By now we all know that Stones Throw is the fucking shit, yet time and time again I fucking sleep on these fuckers because I am a dick and I can't stand the 20 year old white guys who I always see wearing their shirts. I have had the CD for Quakers, a 35-or-so-piece that makes some baller ass smooth hip hop shit with some rappers and shit. I had the CD sitting on my book shelf for like 7 months straight before finally seeing the video for Smoke with Jonwayne a pretty fresh rapper that makes my junk do that weird thing when it feels like it has to pee then giggles. Plus he looks like a hip hop version of Hagar the Horrible.
The 2010 selftitled full-length (if you could even call it that) was the third and presumably final album from Rhode Island weirdos Daughters. On top of the fact that it was technically a posthumous release, by the time it came out the spastic sounds of chaos and noise which seemingly dominated much of the early 2000s underground were already old news. The gangly scenesters who threw relentless arrays of obnoxious windmill punches at shows and constantly updated their LiveJournals with facepalm-inducing song lyrics had already sought greener pastures. All of this couldn't be more bittersweet, as even though the latest work from Daughters was nothing short of absolute excellence, no one bothered to take notice. There are moments of bluesy, borderline-ZZ Top guitars followed immediately up with explosions of brain-numbing note clusters and drumming that resembles a weedwacker being let loose on a cardboard box flap. For the love of all that is holy, STOP SLEEPING on this odd little gem.
This Stop Sleeping thing that we do has a real fucking purpose. The mission is to get you lazy bastards out of your seats and into the faces of the artists that we love. Well LA, this is your time to shine because my selection, Stockholm's I Break Horses, are in LA tonight at the Echo. Come join me and be enveloped in waves of haunting shoegazing beauty. You will not regret it.
Don't know much about these guys and could probably do some homework and figure it out. But I fucking hate doing homework and just don't feel like it right now. Mostly because the Laker's lost (not that I didn't expect them to) and the ensuing Bushmill's binge is clouding my eyeballz and clogging my poop shoot. I saw the video when it posted or was reposted by Bleubird's Youtube channel, and they sound British as hell. They are a little folksy, a little rappish (not rapish)... and there is this Louis CK uncomfortable awkwardness about them that I can't stop curling up next to.