Out now. Hope you dig it <3 (TOBACCO) https://rse.lnk.to/MalibuKen
Here are the lyrics to my feature on Blockhead’s new track “Kiss the Cook”. Pick up his new LP “Free Sweatpants” on Jan 18 - same day as Malibu Ken! I puke a worm in your mouth, I punch a hole in the screen, I hold my nuts when I rap, I throw my phone in the sea, notice the woefully unfrozen mosey up out of Cocytus, dap his homie, check his vitals, swat a bogie til he spirals, the golden oldie miners hack a nugget out the river dance, press it to the boogie break, dress it up in pentagrams, wookie face, look, I don't panic in the fray, I broadcast all black magick with a "K", K? Late to his own selfies, the belly is King Hippo, the M.O. Is Van Helsing, the hello is from a portrait of abhorrent man melting, spells out "help" in his canned corn helping, and never pushed mongo, back foot kicking out the larval stage, front foot navigate the marble maze, blues crooners off the usual at Hooters, drag a Liliputian kicking and screaming into the future I wrote this eating tekka maki off a naked lady, in a questionable wardrobe for which you can blame the 80s, a reference to his adolescent days in basic training, way before devolving into self-deluded naval-gazing, ummm, wakey wakey, jaded makers of the achey-breaky heart, feign valor, brain matter wading though the mason jar, stare at the sun ‘til he bay at the moon, share crumbs with the drums 'til he lay in the tomb, vroom, cold roll up on a very clean easel, turn a landscape into unspeakable evil, eek, it's un-freaking-believable, freakish over fitting in, voices in his head that beleaguer the equilibrium, sit down Waldo, his form is barely functional, messenger of death, professionally uncomfortable, and I don't always push all my convictions thru the Neumann but you people still defending the police are fucking poison blood vessel in his eye all fucked up, from holding up the sky all “nyuck nyuck”, my wires all criss-crossed, I'm equally happy to rap or get lost, old cro-mag throwing scraps at the sled dogs, yes y'all, death hawking his distress call, horse fly backstroking through the bread bowl, bedsores, bad hair, raised on bad news, make bad songs you could twirl a bad 'stache to, Nanu Nanu, styles like wild javelinas stampeding over Bob Dobalinas, with a boomerang, bow, slingshot and ocarina, rock shock, not the property of any knocking reaper, all these posers, aggie and unchauffeured, came to the party like a pox on the culture, flip the rook, kiss the cook Grab his LP "Free Sweatpants" on Jan. 18 "Malibu Ken" out Jan. 18 rse.lnk.to/MalibuKen
Here's what the Malibu Ken packaging looks like. This vid was directed by Rob Shaw. Pre-order the album now. http://bit.ly/MalibuKen-FE Album Jan 18. <3 TOBACCO, Quigley's Magic Shop, Rhymesayers
Had some requests for the Acid King lyrics. Here they are - The magic is black, backyard happy and fertile, for Kasso, the acid king of the black circle, same year Bowie dropped, 2 horns hatched and matured, to gore Northport's 84, Here is 84: Mary Lou Retton, Excitebike, AIDS, Jeopardy!, wake up the Orwell in me, crack rock, anyway - 17 summers in developing, would it be the middle school or ketamine? Guess, left home in the dark, to curl up in the bear hug of Suffolk County's arms, with a bevy of heavy metal records and leather bibles, more Anton Levee than St. Michael, more sherm in a Ford on bricks behind Midas, fly with the pentagram pilot, Sabbath and Judas and all tunes prudent, seems tame now but then it was devil music, Rick 6, the nick name clicks, makeshift alter in a clearing in the sticks, forfeit a kitten by the forks from the kitchen, with horsemen who drew the same symbols, pitchforks waving out a grand theft 4 x 4 support system, alas, Angus on the ax in the back, foreground offering a pitch-dark animal corpse in backyard black mass, and a brash curiosity opt for grave robbery, to puff and pluck skulls out of cemetery property, cops cuff him and stuff him in Amityville Asylum, that's fantasy island for Noah's Lions, at the time South Oaks, but focus on the environment, and how it couldn't loosen the lucifer out it’s client who would flee, pale moon, pale horse howling death, and LSD to make it mean more than it meant, Pay attention - here's where the whole thing sours, and goes from Intriguing to wowzers, at a party, a passed-out drunk Kasso gets got for 10 bags of dust, Now it's not a big town and people have big mouths, so he fishes around ’til he figures it out, Gary Lauwers, 17 years young, you have no idea what you've done, track him down, beat him pissy, got 5 bags back, stills owes him 50, oh Ricky Ricky, do he hound him for loot, or show him how the hell bound do? hm… Kasso waves all debt, says “Let's just go and get baked instead”, 2 Shake hands and the beef play dead, though its more like a skeeter shaking a web, and along came a spider with 2 of his friends, It was into the woods, a delusional mess, 4 kids dipped in a black hole bath, June 16, Kasso snaps, off-guard Gary tackled and pinned, sees Rick pull a knife from his jacket and grin, raise that knife like a sword to the moon, plunge that knife through a portrait of youth, going “Say you love Satan! Say you love Satan!", Lauwers ain't say it, just cave to the facelift, 32 stab wounds, gouged out eyes, burns on his skin, not a cloud in the sky, Kasso would later explain he was told, by Satan himself in the form of a crow, to murder the kid cold, a part of a pristine whole, no no no no no… and just had to brag, until somebody sad just had to rat, sat in cell as a merchant of hate who would hang from his sheet before the 3rd day, some say Kasso was part of a cult but I'm sure there was more than we're told, more than adults or authority could rightly decode, or maybe I'm wrong and he's finally home, Kasso . - It's starting to feel like a nice night, hold close to the highs and the white light, hold close to the good you are drawn to, these woods were grown to disarm you.
TOBACCO and I have thrown around the idea of doing a project together since we first toured over a decade ago. I find his production to be something special, and always wanted to see what I could bring to it. We recently found time to record some songs, and Malibu Ken was born. I brought a few stories to the table, but also did my best to let the production dictate the subject matter throughout. We hope you like the soup. “Malibu Ken” dropping January 18, 2019 Pre-Order: https://rse.lnk.to/MalibuKen Bundle with exclusive merch from Fifth Element: http://bit.ly/MalibuKenFE New video, “Acid King” ▶ http://bit.ly/AcidKingYT
Here is something new - KLUTZ. Occasionally song structure eludes me and it feels good. No problem-solving or pesky hit chorus, just rambling. Klutz is such a moment. I had started a couple things to this beat before sacrificing it to the gods of not-shutting-up, but this seemed a fitting fate. I hope you enjoy it. My longtime video collaborator, Rob Shaw, helped visualize my long-windedness, and I’m excited to have Steve Espo Powers gracing the artwork for the release. Lyrics below. Available now on digital platforms: https://rse.lnk.to/Klutz Pre-Order the limited 7" vinyl and t-shirt from Fifth Element: http://bit.ly/KlutzFE Thank you. Lyrics: Can’t motherfuck a motherfucker, from the underfunded Klutz who never undercut the butcher, The pick-a-booger-at-your-wake is bumping “I’m your pusher” also at your wake, Juvenile Intruders at the gate, brooding over waking history that bubbles from the blinking 12s of VCRs and Microwaves, like time machines for shrinking elders, rifling through their recipe, carrots, onions, celery, what unique amalgam of piss and repugnant energy spun him out of the 70s, to b-line for dessert? Fire-eater trying to keep it on the green side of the dirt, this is tea-time with the worst, geriatrics on decline of berserk, back in my day we were 3x more alert, now I go through my old clothing trying to find nostalgic threads to sell, walk away feeling like I should have never dressed myself, sincerely I was never on the cutting edge, my hand was on the hilt, you’re free to build with the other end, shriek into the vacuum If in spite of your accomplishments, you wake up feeling empty like Houdini’s grave probably is, volley with the quintessential digital-ager, Im offended by everything, my opinions comes in manger, oh boy, depreciating since they drove me off the lot, still into ghost stories and pot and the classic coconut bra, procedural crime drama shows with holes in the plot, and reminding clones there’s more to coping than a nose full of snot, ah, old pros throw 'bows to the 808, you couldn't throw a rope over a baby gate, bishop to queen 4 in damn Daniels under ram skulls, plan for cloudy with a chance of anvils, fever dreams of padded cells and jagged pills in frozen pipes, socialites from pageant hell with plastic smells and robot eyes, I’m hoping you all grow into the sentience you assume, as your moment of self-reflection is a moment for me too, look, with the steel chair, sure to serve the veal rare, brush up your evasion and basic tactical field care, I was on that constant futile rage before the internet, I been ignored for longer than you’ve been interested, the posse promise you nobody feels threatened by a scarecrow covered in crows who feel welcomed, that’s like hellions thinking hell is just ok but needs some polish, It helps to know intimidation’s all about the optics, come duck a bounty, it's a hoot, Suffolk County it's a zoo, puppy chow and bitches brew, it's not exactly chicken soup, it’s heavy-lifters lifting, it’s ginseng on his whistling, it’s we don’t find the flippancy convincing, 2 for flinching, older yeller, never knew a no-kill shelter in his doggie days, now I draw my neighbors over kouign amanns and coffee stains, a walled and whirling urchin, more observant than audacious, I document the great unwashed and curse in Lithuanian, for a gallery of grifters channeling Sid’s action figures grafted with his little sister’s after markers glue and scissors, it’s trippy, the truth and fiction moving to a center, maybe it’s weirder they’ve never been photographed together, sometimes the stomach disappears from under a retreating lens, and patterns of a need to please abusive folk reveal themselves, I’m peeling back the layers, I’m sneaking past the lasers, I’m a lover, I’m a fighter, I’m a seed to blackened acres, the dogs I think are following me home are out to kill me, your music makes a motherfucker wanna move to Elm Street, rejection of the spirit by the body at your service, if you mess-up every friendship come get swept up in the current, here, wheels fall off of cars when they see him, seas part, green trees march out of Eden, I'm known to eat the heart and keep the archery uneven, are you starting to be part of the kinesis?
New song and video - "Hot Dogs" "Hot Dogs" is an audio/video project celebrating the tangents of a delirious brain over the course of a late-night skate to the store. The song was written and produced by myself. The video was shot and edited by Kurt Hayashi, and features the skateboarding of Jake Gascoyne. The three of us collaborated conceptually to bring "Hot Dogs" to the screen. The digital version of "Hot Dogs" is available now for streaming and purchase from your provider of choice. You can also pre-order the limited 7” vinyl version which features both the song and the instrumental, as well as art/design by Jake Gascoyne, exclusively at Fifth Element. 100% of the proceeds from "Hot Dogs" digital sales and streaming and all vinyl pre-orders, now thru Nov 23rd, will all be donated to Grind For Life, Inc. – a charity started by skateboarder Mike Rogers after his second battle with sarcoma cancer. The organization's mission is to provide financial support to patients and families when traveling long distances to doctors and hospitals. More info can be found on their website: http://www.grindforlife.org/
Digital: https://rse.lnk.to/hotdogs 7" Vinyl Pre-Order: bit.ly/HotDogsFE
Apologies for all inconvenienced by the cancellation of September’s Australia tour. The reasons for the cancellation are layered, and personal, and not stuff I care to share with anyone outside my immediate circle - hence the term “unforeseen circumstances”. It’s certainly not a decision I took lightly, but one that was very important to make. Love y’all, and sorry for the times I’ve let you down. I’m doing the best I can. Beyond all this - I have other thoughts I want to express regarding my future in music, which I had hoped would all be neatly summarized in the sweetest paragraph of all time by now - but I can’t seem to find the right words, or even decide what I want to say. I guess I’ll speak on it if/when it feels natural. Until then - peace and thank you. Beautiful day in Brooklyn. Gonna go for a walk.
Brooklyn, NYC: We're here! Come rock with us TONIGHT at Music Hall of Williamsburg. Myself, Rob Sonic and DJ Zone. Also, Grimace Federation. Grab tickets now: http://bit.ly/Aesop082317
Brooklyn, NYC: We're coming to rock. Myself, Rob Sonic and DJ Zone as well as Grimace Federation. August 23rd at Music Hall of Williamsburg. Tickets available here: http://bit.ly/Aesop082317
The Bushwick Movie Original Motion Picture Soundtrack produced by yours truly is available digitally NOW at your store of choice. http://smarturl.it/BushwickSCORE
Friends - Lice is back with a brand new invention: Triple Fat Lice. Aesop Rock and Homeboy Sandman once again join forces for this 100% FREE digital EP brought to you by Rhymesayers Entertainment and Stones Throw Records. Artwork by Jeremy Fish Artwork. In addition - the limited VINYL version of Triple Fat Lice is available to pre-order NOW from Fifth Element and Stones Throw. Please do so if that is of interest to you. Fifth Element: http://bit.ly/Lice3FE Stones Throw: http://bit.ly/Lice3ST Should you feel inspired to cough up some dough after receiving the gift of digital song free of charge, here are some places we've mentioned in the past that could use your help- https://www.gofundme.com/helpkidscatchfish https://skateistan.org https://www.cityharvest.org https://www.prepforprep.org Peace, Aesop Rock and Homeboy Sandman
NYC: To celebrate the premiere of Bushwick Movie (scored by me), I'll be performing at Music Hall of Williamsburg on August 23rd with Rob Sonic and DJ Zone, plus my friends Grimace Federation! Tickets on sale tomorrow at 12pm EST. Tickets: http://bit.ly/Aesop082317
It gives me great pleasure to announce a return to the great midwestern region of this fine land. This July, I will head out with Rob Sonic and DJ Zone to do some professional-grade rapping. We will also bring our friend Open Mike Eagle (He's pro at rap too.) Find the dates below and we'll see you when we get there. http://bit.ly/AesopJuly2017
This May 25th marks 9 years since the death of my friend Camu Tao, an event that serves as an emotional and narrative anchor in both this song and my life. I wanted to reflect on things that had changed since, and try to connect some events I hadn't realized were potentially related. I asked my long-time friend and collaborator Coro to create some drawings that would accent parts of the lyrics, and director Rob Shaw was able to guide and weave the video into what it is here. Camu was entirely singular as an artist and human. You may notice those who knew him speak of him often still - his presence and humor and imagination and energy and impact. It's all still right there. I hope some of you that may not be familiar go check out his music. This man was something special. Unrelated factoid: This song was originally called The Impossible Kid, titled after the line in the song that employs the phrase. I ended up liking the name and moving it up the ladder. I then settled on "Get Out of the Car" borrowed from the last line - which, while a somewhat clunky title, felt like it got to the point nicely. Buy or Stream The Impossible Kid now: https://rse.lnk.to/AesopTIK