It’s been a long while since I’ve posted under this heading, but I’ll be goddamned if I’m the only one who can’t get these particular mashups out of his (or her, as the case may be) head. My unofficial apologies for the sporadic posting schedule, one that only becomes more sporadic as time goes on and would most likely be unnoticed if I didn’t draw attention to it with every introductory paragraph. Onwards we go, to the better times and music that lies below this awkward paragraph that now hangs here like something awkward (possibly a gawky and eternally forlorn teen) hanging over a particularly fun party (with great music), killing the mood with his (or her, quite possibly) eternal forlorness and awkwardly decorative noose.
Now that you have this wholly inappropriate word image in your head, please try to enjoy the rest of the post.
Previous wreckage here:
The Sonic Collision Archives
This track heads up the Collision solely because I still find myself wandering around doing a non-hippie approximation of John Lennon, much to the consternation of the pets, children and my wife. Why, in the name of all that is considered holy by various demographic groups, would a grown man sing “I am the walrus,” especially in a voice that was made for writing?
Because dear friends, the simple (but not all that simple, really) addition of Daft Punk’s bottom end and assorted electronic noises. And let’s not forget the various inserted samples from the movie Tron. Those help a bit. But mainly it’s just Fissunix’s mastery of his media, turning an old “standard” into the finest electro-rock.
Aw, Ben so Krazy. So c(k)razy that I’m sure he’s sick of internet writers opening paragraphs with any variation of those worn out words. My apologies in arrears for not leading into this paragraph more forcefully. This mashup deserves more than that.
As you can clearly see (and imagine) from the “cover art,” this is a hi-energy track (as is evidenced by the missing silent letters), which pops and bumps like the warped vinyl of a dancefloor classic that has been exposed to the heat once too often. The vocal stylings of Dizzee Rascal rub up against Fake Blood’s nu-house and the occasional string squiggles of Arabesque to devastating effect.