(Also, as usual, all my mixtapes will be up for free download here. This is the only page I’ll continue to update.)
Gasoline Monk mixtape #4. This is the last thing I made in the Boston studio before peacing to Denmark to get my elektronisk musik on. I got a Wu remix on there, a song with the incredibly gifted Boston emcee Avree Evans, recordings of a drunken party put in reverse, other things, and…. I actually make a Lil Wayne song GOOD! And yes, there is slow-mo Afrojack involved.
1) Heartbeat or Shower Drain
2) Criminology (Gas Monk Remix)
3) Single (Gas Monk Remix)
4) Dreamin (feat. Avree Evans)
5) Not Stressin Shit
Download the mixtape here.
P.S. We actually had to learn how to say Gasoline Monk backwards to make the intro and outro. It sounds sorta like “K-gnome-eell-ah-saaaag.”
I can’t really call this a live set, because Pirate Cat Radio is based in San Francisco and I actually recorded this mix for them in Boston… but you know, it’s me doing my hip hop thing on turntables. Which there’s never been a recording of before. So definitely tune in at 8 PM West Coast time, 11 PM East Coast time, to check it out… fresh mixes of Ocean Telephones material with the kind of hip hop that makes you find you find yourself standing up on top of tables and shit, just rocking the fuck out.
The podcast will also be available after the fact, and I’ll put up an uncensored version on my SoundCloud page then as well.
Fashionably late as usual, I’m in on the SoundCloud ruckus now. Starting with some shit you probably wouldn’t expect – a ten minute blend of house joints. Kids in Boston know I’ve been DJing real busy nowadays, but this is the first thing I’ve put out for my universal peoples to hear. Check it out now.
Soon a hip hop mix of mine will be dropping on Pirate Cat Radio, blending shit from the well-known hip hop dudes like Biggie & Pete Rock, with a lot of stuff I had to dig deep for, plus handfuls of Boston joints and a lotta stuff off Ocean Telephones. But house’s been amping me up, and I’ve been traveling all around scoping different clubs and DJs – Therapy in Providence where kids fuckin rage, basement parties in Burlington (there’s so many talent up in this airtight little scene), the small but musically electic clubs in Cambridge and the hyperstimulation of downtown Boston.
I haven’t been on the internet much lately, and sometimes that’ll give people the idea that you’re doing less of your thing, but it’s just the opposite… I’ve been so monkish about this art shit I don’t often step far enough out of my head to talk about. Music, words, food, shower, smokes, sometimes sleep….
If you haven’t scoped the book yet, grab yourself a copy and see what all these vibrant heads are talking about.
Ocean Telephones has finally arrived – download it here. More dance-oriented than anything I’ve done before, but maybe more tripped-out too. Sort of a nightlife mixtape – the raw hip hop you bump harder than usual in the car, the four-on-the-floor dim lit room dance shit, & sketches of the vibes you drag your chemical-groggy minds through at 3 am… Shout out to Jase Daniels for the great cover art (as well as the noise he contributed as Vomitus Skink), and Jdubeats for working on two of the tracks with me. Here’s the tracklist:
1) Intro (w/ Jdubeats)
3) Brah! (I’m Ill!)
4) This Makes Your Fingertips Feel Like Batteries
5) Steambox the City
6) Home Wrecker
7) Fuck It, Let’s Fuck
8 ) Black Mold Pillow
9) Musta Been Blackout
10) To the Hungover & Hollow-Headed
11) Breath & a Creek (w/ Vomitus Skink)
12) Headfirst into Footwork
13) Underground Submarines
14) Computer Love (Monk House Mix)
15) Slingshot Through the Roof, to the Stars
16) Woman, Like My Shoes Got Engines In ‘Em
17) Girl, Like I’m Turning Into Jet Smoke
18) Ocean Telephones
19) Point Blank Ear Grenades
20) Hahahaha, Hahahahaha (w/ Jdubeats)
This is one of the nicest readings I’ve ever seen, makes me sad that I’m not in Portland anymore. Mike Daily getting poetic over a beat prepared by Jase and myself, then gets on his god damn bike and does a couple tricks. Just to make sure there’s 0% chance of boredom! Hell yeah, real artists.
I’ll be going back on Pirate Cat Radio again soon, only this time to DJ a set. So I’ve been digging like crazy to guarentee the music on there’ll be fresh. Just wanted to share one of the things I’ve found – been talking up this song hard to all my friends, because I think it shows something beautiful about hip hop and it’s pure unknown. Burnt Batch!
The first two mixtapes took me only a couple months to do, Soundtrack maybe three, but this one’s been looong in the works because it’s going for something much bigger, and I think you’ll feel that when you hear it. There’s still a few days to wait, but seriously only a few… could even be done soon enough to cure some of that work week blues on Monday.
But I got the finished cover art from my main man Jase Daniels, who in the same package sent me the collabo track between himself and I that’ll be on the mixtape. It’s fire. Jase is not only a wizard with the pen and ink, he makes some of the best noise music you’ll ever hear. I’m excited from head to toe, nah mean? So keep locked and in no time at all, there’ll be 20 fresh tracks to sink your teeth into.
So now I can say that even pornography venues are gettin down to The Deadheart Shelters! Well, Horror Sleaze Trash is actually a lot more than that, and it’s an honor to be among the fat list of oddities they’ve covered. My new book gets some shout-outs and has an excerpt of it hosted for anybody who hasn’t tried it yet. Also, the new Gasoline Monk release, “Computer Love (Monk House Mix),” cause you know these guys are just as down with the groove shit as I am.
I’ve also had to turn around and shed some light on the editor, Ben Smith, who is one of the interesting characters I met through Mike Daily. He’s from Australia, he’s a poet, and he runs a blog that mashes together all sorts of indecent things in a way that makes you feel both exhilerated and ashamed of yourself at the same time. He was with Alternative Reel when they ran the Daily-Armstrong-Daniels collaboration poem-beat-thing “On the House” and we got to talking about his past as a graffiti artist and his love of real hip hop, two things that put us in the same boat right off the bat.
I’ve asked some questions, because I think the deeper you dig into this guy’s web presence the more you wonder just who the fuck he is. So let’s find out…
How did you get linked up with the other dudes on Horror Sleaze Trash, and
what’s the biggest difference between the website and the blog?
Ironically HST started up as a Facebook page for me and all my local
buddies to poke the piss at each other with. Tag each other in disturbing
images, cause domestic drama’s, that type of thing. I left Facebook for
personal reasons, but I didn’t want to loose HST. So I started the blog.
The Blog is basically an excuse for me to justify the time I spend on the
internet searching for porn and assorted oddity and phenomena. HST has
always been well received on that front. The strangeness. Basically this
year I was sick of being rejected by most poetry sites for not “fitting
the criteria” and wanted to set up a base for the more twisted heads out
there. I bought the domain and with the help of a computer tech down
under, we launched. I enlisted the French madman behind outlawpoetry.com
and a close friend of mine Ian Shearer
(http://www.bandwidthsessions.com/features/review/have-the-beer/) who is
one of the funniest mother fuckers around and now we are an un stoppable.
Before the end of this month is out, we are going to have a photo shoot
with a alternative model wearing HST gear in a new quarterly; The HST
Girls. Also an annual anthology press and I’m hoping a few smaller
projects we have in the mix can take off. Basically I wanted a place where
you didn’t have to deal with dicky critics and posers. A place where all
artist are represented fully and honestly. I wanted contact. Not some
lazy editor dicking around and choosing what he thinks is tight. I want
people to blow out their own brains. I want people to bar up and have a
wank over the shit we un leash.
Your aesthetic as a poet is interesting. “Horror sleaze trash” sums up
part of it, in a lot of ways, because it can touch on some of the most
grimey things, almost like you’re putting dudes masterbating in front of
computers under a microscope lens. But there’s something more sensitive
in it, more almost… holy? and I don’t know if I could explain what the
fuck it is. Could you? Could you say why you write what you write?
Haha shit man, I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you ask that
question, that’s brilliant. It’s really funny you say holy, because I have
never thought my poems to be anything like that but it actually strangely
suits. I think I write the way I do because I’m so extremely embarrassed
by pretending to be a writer. I think it’s ridiculous. Like, what the fuck
makes me so special to try and be prophetic or deep. I criticize or
humiliate myself because then it puts me above being criticized or
humiliated. I get in first.
I tell stories. Nothing I ever write is a lie. If I say I did it, it
happened. So then when I’m out and about, I think – if I do this, that
would make a cool poem. So I do it. Take my dick out in my car, steal
bollards from the side of a road, have lunch with a homeless dude.
Without sounding like a wanker – that’s poetry. Life is stupid. It’s a
stupid poem. The words are like a holding point, but they are not the
poems. The poem is in the cats bowl.
There are defiantly beautiful things in the ugliness of honesty. It makes
me sick, but it’s true.
At my last reading a man who fell out of a tree and became permanently
brain damaged read not long after I sat down. He just let out a gutsy, low
bowel movement kinda sound in three short burst. He is a deeper poet than
me, than all of us who stand around and shuffle our feet like movers and
shakers. The best poets are the ones that don’t know it. I think God made
poetry as a celestial joke for the people who have to much ego, it was his
way of identifying them. He has hot pokers to stick up our asses in
heaven. He has a truly twisted sense of humor like that. In summary, I
write so god can frig me with a red hot poker in the afterlife. Maybe.
The same aesthetic is present in how you run your websites, a confused
mix of odds and ends from contemporary culture than can range anywhere
from gnarly porno to surrealistic art to the avant-garde music of Can. I
always find something that becomes my new favorite thing every time I go
onto your website, like that Charles Manson answer to “what he’s all
about”… what the fuck?
Haha as I said brother, the best poets don’t know it. Charley first and
fore most. Dude killed maybe one person, at the very most, and he rides
along with the serial killer heavy weights. Perception is more important
than truth. Delusion even more so. Contemporary Culture is getting
trashier and dirtier every single generation. People might have got
fucked by horses in the 1950’s, but no one knew about it. No way. Well,
maybe, but you couldn’t watch it on the internet. We have the worst
atrocities of mankind at our door, every morning, day in day out. You
can’t pretend not to be effected by that. That’s inhumane. So when
Charley gets asked “what are you all about” and he replies “nothing”, I
can relate. Completely. You don’t have to be crazy to see that, right?
Porn is different, for me that’s personal – That whats truly Holy to me.
There is Holiness in that.. I cant really explain it, not without giving
away more than I need to. Porn is for myself, seriously.
Shit Forrest, you either sink or swim. I’m fucking drowning.