'PROSEGUR' is the obliterating Slip debut of North-Eastern security force Bad@Maths: pulped voices scrawled on wasted digital clatter.
The voices of Elvin Brandhi and Odie Ji Ghast have stamped themselves inexorably on the Slip catalogue - Ghast's swoops and blabbers and Brandhi's doosmday swaggers all over pairings with bassist Otto Willberg and pop-garbler Mykl Jaxn (as Yeah You) respectively.
As Bad@Maths, the duo's inimitable speaking-in-tongues practice lurches through electronic daggers and gunge. Elvin and Odie's roaming productions are a smash-and-grab on the furthest reaches of contemporary trap and grime, their voices re-animating 'net-culled spirits amongst whipslap beats. Modern mores, nasty drift.
Available as 320k MP3 or 24bit FLAC
Ē
Lfin Bfrandii +PLU0ss DJ TJI GHAAAST, \ The live brain-storming 6.6 part ‘PLAY’
theatrical subversion of forms.
...
Commuter content will crawl out the code hoop, thanks to slip the host of the next and
first Audio Relish, will about to drop
Bad @ maths present visceral ramble in incalculable gesturers that reject the polemics of
self surveillance aspiring toward predictability as a social context. They mimic mitigate
potential deformations of subject surveillance ,,PROSEGUR,,
Bad at maths parody ignorance in face of conformist logic, refusing free trial run of the
user friendly fortification fetters. Their obnoxious musical slap-stick forges sloppy
alternatives to automation, and cannot tempt the contemporary yet but at least deplores
itself for being somewhat head long into that process.
Obscuring physical identity, they displace
and refrain from plotting strategic co-
ordinates of self definition, disqualifying their efforts from the naturalised phenomena of
identity as policy and persona as currency. Rolling over into an obtuse overflow of
impersonal emotive compositions, and turbulently evoked memes that start up
fragmented conjectures (starved of relevant conjectures).
The personality and it’s all it’s reproducible faces as a common currency is put to waste,
squandered kept behind lazy attempts at personalised arts and crafts masks. The main
point is to deface, leaving as much room as possible for gestural re-facing,
communication independent of an interface.
Their sound is shout out, jazz doom snack tracks fit for the flippant attention span of the
modern user. obviously presuming it’s too late to cater for to other kinds of immaterial
appetite... though they still try to ignite realm extension in flight mode -
‘reaping havoc the regurgitation from where the damn forts chords crack.’
synopsis - REAL HYBRID ALIEN CREATURES CAUGHT ON TAPE
2018 /midst the cement malls of i-phonic 666 digital anti-christ
ears as the gills of the soul
-
end
Presenting sixsixsix types of commercially extinct species
piano fingers
heart to heart slapstick
the egregious faceless
>VS<
supermarket panting
Fame parching
compartment exoticism
THIS BE THE EAR CHILD OF TIMES IRRESOLVABLE MUNIFICENCE
Bad at maths - fight for the right for no solution
Abducted from the stagnant fit of engendered solubility, wrenched from the jaws of no
return.
Against self descriptions_______________
