JOHN SINCLAIR AND HIS BLUES SCHOLARS – FAT BOY

for Charles Moore

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
 

—John Sinclair

Detroit
April 9/June 1, 1982
Flint, MI
April 4, 2003

John Sinclair And His International Blues Scholars – Let’s Go Get Em’ (Album)

“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

https://www.offbeat.com/music/john-sinclair-and-his-international-blues-scholars-lets-go-get-em-mo-sounds/

John Sinclair – We Love Big Chief
Pontiac’s Speech To The White Man

DAY OFF – Feat. Lord Beefington

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.

SAULT “Untitled (Black Is)” – Review

https://daily.bandcamp.com/album-of-the-day/sault-untitled-black-is-review

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”