A Terrible Blog for Terrible People

This was a pretty terrible blog that received little participation from the ‘ppl running it’. Strangely, it garnered a few readers in spite of that. If you were one of those hapless souls that read DBT and enjoyed it, there is good news. Some of us are starting another terrible blog about music we like at coWWalker[dot]com. It will still be terrible, but we are going to actually post this time.

I understand that anyone checking DBT right now is kind of like the internet equivalent of a person that digs up the remains of a buried loved one to see if they have become re-animated [like Rick Grimes to Shane after the ATL survivors reach the Prison] but grave-raiders are actually a serious threat to our society. So if that’s what you’re doing: yes. yes we have become reanimated. and it’s fucked up. and it’s fucked up that you were digging up our corpse. but we also really appreciate it. that’s sweet/kuet.

-mw

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Might stop blogging ya’ll. Just feeling pretty thawed out on the pressures of daily bloggable music content. I feel kind of like I’m playing tennis against the wall [no matter how good I get at tennis I can never get good enough to beat the wall; that motherfucker is relentless] or ‘racing against time’. I guess I just wanted a chill forum to present southern LCD trap-rap and shoegaze influenced quirk-pop to a meaningful, core group of people but it didn’t turn out the way I planned.  All of the sudden the ‘tumbling community’ was addicted, fiending for fresh JEFFstarr clips and avant-garde  mixtapes from the Bankhead Projects that haven’t been released in high volumes on the web or at your local mall Sam Goodies/TowerRecord/EmpireRecord/Napster. It was more than I could handle ya’ll. Everything tastes like licorice. Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like absinthe.

Might just take a cue from this informative infomercial or the relevant 2k9 jam “Beachcomber” [2 below]:

What you want is just outside your reach, keep on searching.

-My Real Estate Agent

Look at this bro in the video below. Do you think he is the kind of guy feeling the pressures of running a modern music blog? Shit no. He answers to nothing short of the intoxicating bleepy-bloopy sound of his future, reaped right from the bosom of mother earth herself. Probably going to invest in a denim shirt, stiff-cut jeans and a chill lil mustache. From what I gather, it is completely legal to trespass at various locations [farm, dumpster, national historic landmarks, a creek] as long as you bring your White Brand Metal Detector [might have to give some of your silver dollars, wedding rings, Sacajawea dollars, Civil War era Buffalo Nickels and golden horseshoes that you find to the land owner, I’m not positive yet about the ‘code of treasure hunting’]. Basically, being a metal detector-bro is the 2k10 version of being a black cowboy that is employed by the US government to stop the South from rising again in the late 1800s; you can do whatever you want, really.

Until you find your Rolex in the sand, you won’t be stopping.

-The Real Estates and Their Large Band

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White’s Metal Detector

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Real Estate: Beach Comber

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One of my running gimmicks here and a frequent snobbing device is my hatred of post-Black Album Jay-Z [we don’t bump the Blueprint 3]. He’s really the king of emulating Mike on the Wizards. This rare and meaningful video of Jigga’s ‘94 twelve-inch, “I Can’t Get With That” [below], has everything that dude is missing today. His flow might not be established as Hova’s-own (not until Reasonable Doubt, maybe In My Lifetime) as he bites style from Jaz-O, Sauce Money, Large Professor and whoever else he was feeling at the time [allegedly, nas !!]. But Jigga is young, hungry and absurdly charismatic in this video. It is obvious that they just bought those Ranges, Tims, champagne bottles, and are proud as fuck about it. The DIY camera shots of Marcy and the bridge are genuine and heartfelt. His posse isn’t wearing absurd chains [“just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with little Chase”] but sick Reggie Millers, wifebeaters, and 90s tees. Jay and Dame are still bros [miss u Rocafella], young Hov is the king of his burrough and about to blow nationally; all is right in the Jay-Z universe here. He hasn’t made classics out of RD, Blueprint or Black Album so there is no pressure or room to disappoint. The minimal key notes looping are the kind that made you want to be from NY in the 90s. His persona radiates of a guy that is ecstatic about using the craft of rapping to elevate his status. He sure as shit isn’t a cookie-cut mediocrity-factory holding down young talent with his very presence like he is today. The rapid fire flow isn’t really trademark Hova, but the energy and authenticity used to be. I don’t like the Blueprint 3 because I like Jay-Z. -mw

I Don’t Kick It, I Punt It
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Jay-Z: I Can’t Get With That

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Here’s a lil weekend bonus banger because the horns have been slapping me so hard they wouldn’t wait til Monday. “The Win” [below] is verified hype music of the highest caliber. Your boy Slim comes extra mediocre lyrically here, though not terrible. But the track is maybe the most expansive beat I’ve heard this year outside of the SlowMotion Sound camp. You can cop Slim’s mixtape The Beam Up 2 for free-ninety-nine but it’s not going to eclipse the atmosphere smashing through your speakers right now. If you’re the kind of ne’er-do-well that could potentially be involved in drinking competitions, or even drunken competition, this weekend you are gonna want this joint on repeat. You’ll be coming back with a double-u like it was ‘99 in Knoxville. Happy trunk-thumping ya’ll. -mw

Bangers: Kingpen Slim FTW
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Kingpen Slim: The Win

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It’s been over a month since a crisp hip-hop set on the weekend playlist and that won’t be the only error corrected today [first Count Bass D and Block Beattaz tracks in DBT history? gross]. Some trendy blog and a shedload of other media outlets have gone ahead and branded our generation as non-workers, among other things. While I agree with all cliche traits tossed at my age-group [apathy, entitlement, tastemaking, etc] I personally could never go out like that. I’m going to stay putting in my 40+ hrs a week [“learned the game a long time ago..”] and thinking of a master plan. Though the honest,bootstrap-pulling grind is not the most popular subject matter in the world of rap, enjoy a set of bangers promoting just that [honestly ya’ll, some are prlly still about selling drugs, sry]. Might even get my CPA next week if G-Side makes another accounting-fused mixtape.

Whether following your dreams with uncertain dividends [hey lucy!], giving this weed a rest/quitting cigarettes/not telling every chick you meet that she’s the best, or finally gitting up off your ass and making shit pop in this private/public sector, Pill has it right from the bungee. Nobody’s giving an inch out here y’ll. So put in your work, no handouts. -mw

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DBT Weekend Playlist: No Handouts Edition

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In my advancing age it takes more than it used to at a show for me to lace up my air-forces, cut some rug and get sweaty. So I have to fully endorse Chromeo for melting shit at the acoustically questionable Cannery Ballroom last night; I can’t even do drugs on weeknights. Fancy Footwork would be the album I’d propose to the unfamiliar, but if dudes come to your city on tour you won’t need to be a connoisseur of the catalog to dance your ass off.  “Bonafide Lovin” [below] is a danceable lil songy about nabbing some younger biddy away from her younger bf: riveting stuff y’ll. -mw

Chromeo @ Cannery
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Chromeo: Bonafide Lovin’

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Everybody’s favorite fuzzy-feeling dream-pop duo have dropped a new joint for your listening pleasure. Devotion is solid, Teen Dream was one of the choicest LPs in 2k10 and “Zebra" one of my picks for song of the year. So I’m excited about anything BH puts out. In fact, despite the stacked shows-attended sheet I have this year, Beach House at Mercy Lounge in April was the most intimate and enjoyed show. Chick’s voice is jarringly unique and singing live she sounds near-identical to her records. "White Moon" [below] is pretty much exactly like what you’d expect  a Beach House song to sound like. So go get danked, makeout, watercolor, bang your lil gf/bf, take a power-nap, play an afternoon game of backgammon, watch sportscenter on mute, craft sonnets or even blank verse poetry—I don’t know, whatever ya’ll like to do when you play their jams. It’s good. -mw

New Beach House Ish
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Beach House: White Moon

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This weeks installment of the Friday Playlist comes to you via Science of Silence Records. Instead of the playlist serving as a peek at our immaturity and depraved thought process, this weeks playlist is a peek at the front line of indie metal with Constants new album If Tomorrow the War. The Connecticut trio’s latest offering is produced by Jesu/Godflesh mastermind Justin K. Broadrick and is stacked with 8 nuggets of finely crafted progressive metal. Don’t believe me? Check out the first track titled, Your Daughter’s Eyes. For a whole album listen press here.  This extremely limited-edition run of 250 copies (125 in transparent red and 125 in black) is ready on September 7th so check out Radar Recordings, and get moving on the pre-order. Happy Friday, Happy Listening, and Happy Pre-ordering!

Constants Tasty New Album
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