There is something about the American mind set on de- struction, re- lent- less, un- penitent, eager to bomb There is the hatred that fuels the A- merican mind, the shriveled-up heart the heartless always ready to kill & maim brutal with the urge to crush & destroy This is where they built Fat Man, Mr. U- 235 & they sent Fat Man & Little Boy to Japan to level Hiroshima & Nagasaki They love Fat Boy they feed him the sweets of their hearts singing their filthy songs into Fat Boy’s u- ranium ears & let the rest of us eat the shit of their hatred of anything or anyone that is not them Ah! Fat Boy so round & ugly so full of hate stuffed with the dead spirits of the Americans blinded & lost in the deserts of Iraq
Detroit April 9/June 1, 1982 Flint, MI April 4, 2003
“Even though he is an expatriate, John Sinclair should be declared a national treasure. He’s a poet, historian and musicologist who, instead of publishing his research and findings, declaims them in the oral tradition with music. His latest works revisits themes he has worked with before and also adds several new poems and interpretations to his work. Let’s Go Get ‘Em features odes to friends and loved ones, whether it is remembering an evening with a lover who whistles Charles Mingus’ “Moanin’” or professing thanks and love to another with a reference to the Beatles’ “When I’m Sixty-Four.” There are also several political pieces here, including his reworking of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez’ United Nations’ speech “Smells like Sulfur.” The music has a great groove that simmers and occasionally boils over, whether in the acid rock taste of “Scuse Me While I Kiss the Sky” or the deep mellow spice of his dedication to Mardi Gras Indians, “We Love Big Chief.” —David Kunian
A shattered window. 7.5 artists. An epic journey: An omnipresent fuck you between the tympanic membranes. The Fuck You Sound invite all…to help create a new unhinged world, at odds with the stink and stench of the traditional art and music corpse. Bands eat underwater buffalo wings on toast or a vegetable patch bay…. Deviant things, taboo things; Audio intercourse. We implore you to take a day off in 2018.
The album squirms with remixes by chilly slashers ’Bogus Order’ and jungle don DJ Aries. This is not a release, it is an expulsion.. ‘The Day Off’ was scheduled to be a limited edition DJ friendly deluxe 12” vinyl back pack plus a digital package of the album boasting extra remixes, free podcasts, videos, avatar packs, digital artwork and other goodies. Space weapons. Hair clippers. Dog socks. Flea rights.
Caleb Selah: Former arms and fingers dealer. Formerly a stringed thing virtuoso now a crippled mess of a DJ who can’t stand and is psychedelically deaf in his right ear. You wanna hear him click his toes though. Born in Austin Texas, he can’t remember when. Selah hates genres, cream crackers, squares and most things. He probably hates you.
Lord Beefington, the 12th Marquis of Hackney: Born from hell fire, eats microphone cables and children for breakfast. He is rumoured to be the father of Lord Vader. Enjoys cutting dub-plates with his teeth and preventing violence with smiles. He spits pure lava, stand clear.
In 1965, in response to the assasination of Malcolm X, poet, organizer and cultural critic, Amiri Baraka crystalized Black America’s righteous anger and fury into a poem entitled “Black Art.” In this foundational work, Baraka argued for a revolutionary Black aesthetic that would be used primarily in service of Black liberation. In the most famous section of the poem, Baraka rejects the European conception of “art for art’s sake,” instead calling for poems that waged war on white supremacy and capitalism as well as their ancillaries, the police. “We want poems that kill, he wrote, “Assassin poems, Poems that shoot guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys and take their weapons leaving them dead”