All you need to know is on the flyer:
All you need to know is on the flyer:
Early reports on Diplo and Switch’s Major Lazer project mentioned that M.I.A. would make a guest appearance on the album. Then the official tracklist came out– and M.I.A. was, well, not on it.
But now, the influential rapper-singer-firebrand has shown up on a new Major Lazer mix, created for Mishka’s Keep Watch series. (Via Gorilla vs Bear.) Her verse easily overshadows everything within a 100-mile radius.
“I say where’s the daddy?” she repeats over the autotuned “Baby” riddim from the Major Lazer album before dismantling male dominated culture and paternal negligence like only she can. “Look at all the babies growin’ up in the muck/ Lookin’ up at the fucked up men like, ‘Yuck’.” If anything, motherhood has only made her more fierce. “I ain’t gonna raise my son like that, ’cause this is a woman’s world and he knows that,” she concludes.
Download the mix here. The M.I.A. tracks is at 11:20 and it pretty much rules. More info about the mix at mishkanyc.com.
In other FREE music news… check out this aptly-titled release by Venable, “Where’s the Happy.” It’s melancholy, like early Cat Power or Gillian Welch, but in a beautiful way. Highly recommended. [Thanks GD]
Animal’s been tracking the sudden rise and fascinating public decay of the Williamsburg Faile Wheels at the hands of humanity over the past few months, as the two unique pieces of street art have gone from freshly cut spinning columns of beauty to missing and/or trafficked pieces of stolen art. After the second wheel mysteriously returned to the street just last week, local graffiti writers wasted no time to mark it up with splatter and tags (Omar, we’re looking at you).
But, in just a matter of days, somebody went and cleaned it all up, and unknowingly removed the original Faile-applied paint in the process. What we’re left with here is a fossilized carcass bolted down at North 6th street; a bruised and battered chunk of its former sculptured glory that nonetheless represents the creativity of some and the greed and disregard of others.
[photos via Zoltan and disconotdisco]
Tonight at the Delancey Jay Buim, one of our homies over at the awesome ‘zine Free Danger (and one part Rude Dude), will be premiering his documentary Todd P Goes to Austin. This SXSW adventure, following some of the hottest bands on the DIY scene, showcases local legendary promoter Todd Patrick. Come out and celebrate tonight with performances by Team Robespierre, So So Glos, some super secret guests, and a DJ set by the man himself– Todd P.
The film touches on a “generation of artists creating and performing music on their own terms”– otherwise known as anything worth listening to here in our native Brooklyn. And although Todd P tends to be a contraversial topic amongst the local music community, there is no doubt that his shows, at neighborhood staples such as Market Hotel, are amongst the most enjoyably raucous ones we’ve ever been to.
Did we mention FREE Colt 45?? Doors @ 8pm, Movie starts at 9pm; FREE with RSVP!!
We got a chance to catch up with Director Buim about the meaning of DIY, the death of the record label, and the best eats in Austin, TX– check out the rest of the EXCLUSIVE interview, and details about tonight’s event, after the jump…
FREEburg: So Jay, how did you you first get hooked up with Todd Patrick?
Jay Buim: In the summer of 2006 I was leaving to go to LA to work on a documentary and Todd helped me throw a going away party. It was at this lunch spot across from the Death Star waste treatment plant in Greenpoint. The Death Set, Heloise and the Savoir Faire, and Drop the Lime played. At one point someone brought out a large tray of hot dogs. It was magic.
Our government doesn‚Äôt exist to protect voters from interests, it exists to protect interests from voters.
As always, Taibbi nails it
Make no mistake, this has nothing to do with Max Baucus, Bill Nelson, or anyone else. If the Obama administration wanted to pass a real health care bill, they would do what George Bush and Tom DeLay did in the first six-odd years of this decade whenever they wanted to pass some nightmare piece of legislation (ie the Prescription Drug Bill or CAFTA): they would take the recalcitrant legislators blocking their path into a back room at the Capitol, and beat them with rubber hoses until they changed their minds.
The reason a real health-care bill is not going to get passed is simple: because nobody in Washington really wants it. There is insufficient political will to get it done. It doesn’t matter that it’s an urgent national calamity, that it is plainly obvious to anyone with an IQ over 8 that our system could not possibly be worse and needs to be fixed very soon, and that, moreover, the only people opposing a real reform bill are a pitifully small number of executives in the insurance industry who stand to lose the chance for a fifth summer house if this thing passes.
It won’t get done, because that’s not the way our government works. Our government doesn’t exist to protect voters from interests, it exists to protect interests from voters.
Our third Hipster Foldable, has arrived and now we have to fumigate. It’s the Gutter Punk. As you’ve undoubtedly noticed, they’ve invaded the ‘burg and now we can expect a surge in lyme disease from the ticks festering in their nasty-ass beards.
In case you missed the story in the Daily News, here it is:
Heroin-addict hobos from around the country are overrunning hipster haven Williamsburg – living in stalled luxury condo projects in the trendy Brooklyn neighborhood. The squatters, from middle-class families, hop freight trains to the city, where they can earn up to $150 a day panhandling in Manhattan. At night, like plenty of other borough commuters, they return to their homes: grubby hideaways inside boarded-up lots that pock the once-booming neighborhood.
“I’ve got to sleep somewhere, and I might as well do it in Williamsburg,” said Stuart, 22, a Florida college dropout.
The admitted alcoholic and heroin user makes $15 an hour panhandling in Union Square, holding a sign that reads “Traveling Broke and Sexy.”
“The girls here like it that I’m dirty and I ride trains,” he added.
The vagrants – who also call themselves “crusty punks” – swarmed into Williamsburg this spring, drawn by open-minded young people and vacant lots.
Packs of punks and their mangy dogs clog Bedford Ave. in the evenings. They sprawl drunkenly on the sidewalk and heckle hipsters for money and cigarettes.
“There’s a big crowd of us here,” said Sethry, 20, of Portland, Ore., lounging near North Ninth St. one recent night. “Every night it’s a party with all our friends.”
As we suggested before, don’t give them money. Instead, use this much more sanitary, stench-free bank and save for your own future.
1. Download the Gutter Punk foldable here (.pdf)
3. Cut along black solid lines
4. Fold along dotted lines and tape, as instructed
Thanks again to Bryan. And remember, send us photos for future foldables! We want to feature local celebrities—who doesn’t want a Todd P foldable? Or perhaps the creepy pastor on Bedford, if we ever muster the courage to approach him.
DOWNLOAD THE GUTTER PUNK FOLDABLE PDF HERE
The Hipster Grifter
Hip Kyp Malone