Ancestry Magazine by Jordan Vouga

ancestry volume 01

Precious Tones to Precious Stones

Mr. Cannabis, Mr. Crack, Mr. C.

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Igorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Dungeon

AN CE S TRY ...

MAGAZINE

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letter from the editor

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Dear Friend, This is the first issue of Ancestry Magazine. This also happens to be my first “Letter from the Editor,” so bare with me if it gets a little sloppy. This whole magazine started as a solution to a frustrated itch. I desperately needed to find a way to break into the magazine industry. I knew I wanted to work for one ever since I graduated art school, but I couldn’t seem to find the right door. Selfishly, 10 months ago this magazine popped in to my head. It was orignally going to be just a portfolio piece. It makes sense right? To get a job at a magazine company, make one, throw it on the table at the interview, and get a position. Perfect sense. I started to rally people together who I thought would be a good fit. As more and more people got excited about working on it, I started to realize that this was quickly evolving into something much bigger than a shiny portfolio piece. This was becoming a collaboration of photographers, designers, musicians, illustrators, writers, and PR reps. I quickly realized that I had the ingredients for a publication that could make it. This could push out of the realm of project and into the realm of carrer. That is when the ah-ha hit me. I cannot stress this enough, Ancestry is not a zine. It is a magazine. This being the first issue I wanted to test the waters. It is short like a zine, however, through design, it says nothing but MAGAZINE. From start to finish it has been my goal to make this publication distinct, classy, tasteful, and raw. I wanted it to be something people would actually want to read and look at. It was my goal to utilize design in such a way that the publication would blend into certain settings. I wanted to created a conversation starter, an eye-catcher, an enhancement of space. All of these goals were accomplished in one fashion or another by all of the people working on it. They have all had a hand in polishing the silver. The people we had a chance to interview turned out to be really wonderful. I have had way too much fun working on this with everyone not to continue. The second issue of Ancestry is already in its pre-production phase and I can promise you it will be as great as the first, with double the pages. In short, read it cover to cover. thanks, Jordan

CONTENT

ARTICLES

precious tones to precious stones When the inspiration is visiting you and if you are very well used to control your tools of creation, whatever they are, the process of creation can be very fast. In fact, some of my worst tunes where written suffering two or three weeks 10 hrs/day trying to make it sound good...

mr. cannibus, mr. crack, mr. c. yundastand? He began to tell me how good it felt to have a nice place with a garage. He called it ‘a big slice of the American pie.’ With his housing upgrade, came an upgrade in his music.

<3 html luv ;* The music Beer On The Rug puts out may suggest an instructional guide on how to properly set up your big screen TV. It’s the soundtrack of browsing Japanese hygiene products. It’s your new cassette being eaten by the stereo in your 92’ Corolla.

igor’s dungeon A short story by Zach Vouga. The story has an immense cinematic air to it. A raw, seedy tale about reality with the perfect amount of surreal fantasy. Meant to be read while listening to a few tracks on the latest Oneohtrix Point Never album, Replica.

REVIEWS

album reviews

ART

photography: nathaniel charles sexton

photography: erin moss

illustration: mckenzie toma

photography: ciara petruna

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Agree or disagree, we don’t care either way.

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magazine

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ancestry volume 01

editorial Editor-in-Chief Jordan Vouga Editor Zachary Vouga Design Direction Jordan Vouga

contributors Writers Ryan Holwerda Zachary Vouga Jordan Vouga

Photographers Nathaniel Sexton Ciara Petruna Erin Moss Krisan Cieszkiewicz

This publication is a limited run. Only 100 copies are in existence. It was conceived, written, and designed by broke writers, designers, photographers, and illustrators to bring to you a magazine worthy of display. Place it on your mantle, bookshelf, or coffee table. Please do not throw it away or shove it in your closet. We worked hard to give this to you. Thank you for reading.

Illustrator McKenzie Toma

Short Story Zachary Vouga

Cover Photo Nathaniel Sexton

Public Relations Sofia Bibliowicz

place of production 933 w. Fletcher Ave. #2r Chicago IL, 60657 +1 (219) 405 1517 jordan@expireddesigns.com

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Nathaniel Charles Sexton Northwest Indiana, USA

about: Undergraduate student of philosophy and Enlglish Literature, likes European genre cinema, comic books, and Marxism gear: yashica t4, pentax k1000, disposable info: nosex.tumblr.com flickr.com/photos/nathanielcsexton/

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Erin Moss

Chicago, IL about: After spending most of her life in small town, New Buffalo, Michigan, she moved to Chicago to pursue a photography career in 2008. Currently, She is working towards a BFA in photography at Columbia College Chicago. gear: Photography info: erinmoss.tumblr.com

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Precious Tones to Precious Stones An interview with Stephane Picq. Musician of the famed DUNE and Lost Eden MS-DOS games

WRITTEN BY: Jordan Vouga

Precious Tones to Precious Stones An interview with Stephane Picq. Musician of the famed DUNE and Lost Eden MS-DOS games

I first heard Stephane’s music as a young kid whilst hiding away in my parents basement logging hours into my favorite MS-DOS games. I sat at the edge of my seat, surrounded by a massive oak computer hutch nervously rubbing my dirty socks against the emerald green carpet. That back basement room was fashioned with three things; a window into the fantasy world, bookshelves, and Smaug, my families asshole iguana. With the doors shut and lights off, I would transport myself into DOS games (mostly Cryo games.). The only sounds I heard, aside from the occasional splatter of the iguana spitting on the tank, were the sounds Stephane’ Picq tailored to accompany my conquest. At the time I didn’t realize it, but these tracks were being forever burned into my memory, ready to be dug up for future inspirations. The songs that stuck with me the most were the ones created for Lost Eden. If you have ever had the pleasure of playing this game, you most likely share my gratitude. I randomly stumbled upon Lost Eden clips a year ago while in the midst of a Youtube frenzy. All advancement stopped so I could relish in the nostalgia I had just discovered. After watching a few gameplay videos and the opening theme, I was curious to see what Stephane’ was up to these days. I was hoping to find an arsenal of video game tracks I could download, but to my dismay, I found very little. The only certain thing was that he moved to Madagascar in 98’. I decided this would be the perfect opportunity for a cover story. After a few failed attempts at contacting him, I finally got my interview... as follows.

ANC: Where are you from? Where do you currently live? STEPHANE’: I’m French, born in Rouen. I’m currently living in Madagascar, near Diego-suarez, in the north, in a nice fishermen village called Ramena, on the beach. ANC: When did you first realize you wanted to work on video game music? (or that video game music was a possibility.) STEPHANE’: I started as a game coder in 1983, on the mythic ZX spectrum computer (and later Amstrad CPC ) and did some games as game designer/coder/gfx designer during the old times when only one person was doing everything! I was doing music as a hobby, playing electronic piano. and analog synth. I was a skilled coder but a poor game designer, and started to translate games (at this time different brands of computers where not compatible), for money. When the Amiga was available I did code translations of games from other computers to the Amiga, and often the initial version barely had sounds nor music, so I started to add music and sounds (even if nobody asked me to do so), using a soundtracker (kind of skeleton software where you

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have to enter each note and effect as hexadecimal digits in a boring list), so my skills of coder met with music! Amiga was the state of the art machine for sound at this time. The company I was working with (ERE informatique which later became Cryo Interactive entertainment) asked me to do music for other peoples games. I did and started to earn money from music only. When this company was bought and destroyed by another famous French company (Infogrames), a bunch of talented people moved to Virgin Games, and we had the luck to obtain the best seller licence “Dune” to make a game from it. At this time we were a solid team and I designed a tool (coded by the team) for the FM soundcard Adlib (who later became Sound blaster) to have better sound and expressive freedom. I made the soundtrack for DUNE, the first huge project we did as a team. Lots of people liked the FM music, as did the artistic director for this project, Philippe Ulrich. He managed to make the music released by Virgin Records. Philippe Ulrich contributed a lot to make this to be published, and did big work on the album to make it sound better. That’s how I started to be sound designer for computer games, and I did several successful game soundtracks in the following seven years. ANC: Could you tell me a little bit of how you do tracking? STEPHANE’: DUNE was MIDI electronic music only, because we had no means at this time to record acoustic instruments, which needs additional stuff we couldn’t afford at the moment. But the most important thing is that (like other soundtracks) I played most of parts on the keyboard in real time, no step by step melodies or arpeggios. I also worked hard to design all of the sounds I used, barely using factory sounds or third part sound banks. I recorded most of my sample library from CDs, or later rented musicians to record their sound and make my own sounds playable on the keyboard (like the slap bass in Megarace, or the voices in Atlantis1, or the cello in Dune’s Ecolove track, and some strings in Dragon Lore).But with the Atlantis1 soundtrack, that we did together with Pierre Estève, we mostly recorded musicians and singers. He was playing many acoustic string or wind instruments, and I played some flutes or guimbard, sang some harmonic low voices too. The synth sounds were mostly used to sustain and valorize the audio tracks. ANC: I have read you moved to Madagascar in 1998. Why Madagascar? What was the initial appeal? STEPHANE’: I moved to Madagascar because I had an opportunity for work to be a Sapphire’s mine assistant manager. Also, I was fed up with spending my time in front of computers and sick of the behavior of my former friends, who became my bosses, and finally screwed me up. I’m not speaking about Philippe Ulrich, which was not really in touch with the reality of capitalism interest, they just used him. So, I was tired of all that, I wanted open sky, more nature and adventure, less computers

STEPHANE’: I’m now in precious stones business, selling mainly star sapphires, and making jewel designs. No music at all from 1999 up to 2009, except for playing jembe or guimbard with friends. I started playing keyboard again 3 years ago with a decent toy keyboard I borrowed from a friend’s child, and discovered that I still had many things in stock in my soul to compose new tunes.

I was dreaming of fifteen years ago when 500 pounds of stuff, keyboards, racks, wires, were necessary to do decent work! Now we can have huge hard drives for peanuts, top quality but affordable software, compact multi I/O soundcards with quality preamps, USB keyboards, all this stuff is so powerful and integrated and mobile, that I’m very excited to use it. I’ve chosen an all Maudio solution for these reasons too (They should sponsore me, hehe). Third reason is that one’s need to earn money in this tough crisis world, and it is stupid to have some skills and not use them.

ANC: You mentioned to me earlier you are working on new music. Why did you decide to start releasing music again?

ANC: Is your new music going to be something you are releasing on your own?

STEPHANE’: There are three reasons, sorted by importance: The first, as told earlier, is that I still have something to say and doing music makes me feel good. The second is that my prehistoric laptop from 2003 died some months ago, so I bought a new one, and realized now it’s possible to have the “everything in a box” solution that

STEPHANE’: I would like to do a new album with my sound identity fused with some malagasy instruments and feelings, but I’m not sure about the way I will release it. I have the ability to sign with some independent labels, but nowadays it’s difficult to earn money if you don’t propose something else than tracks, because of the mp3 piracy. So I’m studying solu-

ANC: You have been out of the video game industry for quite some time now. What have you been doing since then?

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tions to propose something more than only CD with music in the box...I’m also currently in touch with several companies interested in me to be back to do soundtracks for game industry. ANC: How did you get involved with Cryo Interactive? STEPHANE’: As said earlier, we were a team, and when Virgin Games France was bought by Sega, we were fired, strange thanks for having produced the best seller game “Dune”. So we created the Cryo Interactive Entertainment company, mainly from the impulsion of Philippe Ulrich who found the name and given the touch of genius, Jean Martial Lefranc who was in charge of the (dirty) business, and Rémi Herbulot master coder and head. But even if some of us had shares in the company, I preferred to stay an independent worker, working mainly for them, but still free for other projects. ANC: Cryo games are very fantasy driven, how was it working on a game with so much imagery? Did you have a lot of creative freedom? STEPHANE’: That’s why it was so exciting to work with Cryo in the beginning! I had a lot of creative freedom, because everybody trusted me since Dune’s soundtrack was quoted “best game soundtrack ever” by numerous people and medias. When Lost Eden started, I had only paper designs from Jean-Jacques Chaubin to give me inspiration, and later the synopsis, but one third of the tracks were done before having seen any computer animation scenes, like Dune. ANC: Lost Eden was my absolute favorite game when I was young. The soundtrack is equally as powerful as gameplay. Could you tell me about the writing process of that particular game? Especially the Theme Song. That is still one of my favorite tracks ever. STEPHANE’: The Lost Eden Theme was nearly entirely composed and recorded in one night, even if I did some minor mix changes later, as were recorded all my best tunes! When the inspiration is visiting you and if you are very well used to controlling your tools of creation, whatever they are, the process of creation can be very fast. In fact, some of my worst tunes where written suffering two or three weeks 10 hrs/day trying to make it sound good...

A young Stephane’ Picq.

02 Stephane’ now. 03 Stephane’ holding a large snake in Madagascar. 0 4 Screen shots from the 95’ DOS game Lost Eden. 0 5 Precious stones.

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Mr. Cannabis, Mr. Crack, Mr. C. yundastand? WRITER: Jordan Vouga PHOTOGRAPHER: Krisan Cieszkiewicz

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When I first met Mr. C a few years back, he was hanging around some kids I knew back in Indiana. They were making some pretty eccentric music at the time. It was one of those creations that only a few people experience and genuinely appreciate. Electronic dirty beats with eerie (Indiana) vocals all mashed and chopped together to form something that was way too much for everyone but us. It was one of those creations that only a few people hear of and genuinely understand. Those days are most definitely over for Mr. C. Back then he was living in what everyone called The 502, on the corner of Union and Locust up on The Hill. This was around the time he stopped working with Dr. Breath and started rapping. The small second story apartment was dirty, grimy, seedy and raw with a violent overtone. The 502 was what Mr. C’s music looks like. Cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. Makeshift ashtrays littered the living room (beer cans, coffee cups, couch arms, tables, pant legs). It was a mystically dirty place where a talent as bright as gold was harnessed and channeled into what is now Mr. C.

MR C: Awww man man man, first of all Anti-77 still around, Anti-77 ain’t never went nowhere. They been keeping it 77 since 77 yundastand? Thats a movement. But the King Pring shit, you gotta understand there was a bunch of these dudes telling me I was using words I wasn’t spose’ to be using. So I told them “I got creative expression, I can be saying whatever the fuck I please.” Yundastand? But then King Pring got merked. They shot him man, he gone. See I’m Mr. C man, I’m not actually King Pring... I am, but I ain’t, yundastand? That’s how it is.

When I met with him this time, things have most definitely been looking up for him. He gave me his address for me to come to him. As I pulled into the nice subdivision by a golf course I had a feeling this was some kind of joke. Last time I saw him in Indiana, he was hovered over his computer mixing tracks in a pool of blue-gray cigarette smoke. Nonetheless I pushed on to the address. When I arrived he was sitting outside a two story house smoking a cigarette with a big smile on his face. In his room he began to tell me how good it felt to have a nice place with a garage. He called it ‘a big slice of The American Pie.’ With his housing upgrade, came an upgrade in his music. He showed me a few of the newer tracks he is working on. I was blown away by how much he has improved since the last time I saw him. His lyrics are still raw, gritty and full of violence, but only now he makes rape and murder sound poetic. A rare talent indeed.

MR C: I don’t even think we the same color man, yundastand? I think we are on two completely opposite sides of the fence. I ain’t even heard the dude to be honest with you. Really, I ain’t heard the dude. He somebody else man.

ANC: When did you first realize you wanted/could rap? MR C: Man, I was gettin stoned in the basement right? I was in the basement right? Gettin real high right? And I started thinkin on it, and I said to myself, “Man, I’m the best rapper alive.” And the shit just started coming out like a fuckin’ leakin’ faucet or some shit. Like I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t control myself. I made like twenty odd tracks in less than a year. That’s about it. ANC: Can you tell me how your older work (with Dr. Breath, Anti-77, King Pring) evolved into what you are now?

ANC: So King Pring is dead? MR C: King Pring is dead man. He got shot. It was these dudes tryin’ to warn him that he was sayin’ these things he wasn’t supposed to be sayin, but he done said em anyways. And they shot him. They killed him man. ANC: Does Mr C. have any relation to King Pring?

ANC: Who makes all of you beats? MR C: Errbody makes my beats yundastand? Stan Man makes my beats yundastand? I make my beats yundastand? Matter of fact, since I done came out the rehab I did Shit City, I put that shit together from scratch, minus the I Smoke Weed beat, that was him (Stan Man). But man I wrote that. I did all the producing, I did all the beats, I did all the lyrics, I did all that shit man, and thats probably why it came out sounding like shit. So when I came back up north, I met up with Nick D, the Wizard, and we made some otha shit man. We made that Mouth of The South demo, and it was fire. And then DJ Gucci Lo from The Hill right up by Union and Locust done made all the other beats, The Hat Brother Coming Soon, the Take Drugs (Every Drug) and all that shit man. So now I’m fucking with this Radio Homicide, so the radio be making my beats now. Lil’ Wayne be making my beats, Rick Ross be making my beats, and I be killing em. They gone know about it soon man. ANC: Has being from Indiana shaped the music you make? MR C: Maannn, it’s like I ain’t even from Indiana, ya dig? We a suburb of Chicago up here man. I got Chicago love man. I got love for the Chi Town. I got the influence from the Chi Town. I got my slang from the Chi Town, my game from the Chi Town. My motha is Chi Town yundastand? Ain’t nothin’

Mr. C frightening a young party-goer.

02 Mr. C performing to the music of Nick D. 03 A perfect photo op.

about no Indiana. I don’t go south of Division because that’s where the white folks are at. I’m cruising up and down 80-94 all day. I’m just tryin’ to get there. So hey, fuck Indiana, I got love for the Chi Town. ANC: So what does Mr C. actually stand for? MR C: haaa ha, you know I couldn’t tell you man. It came to me and I just was Mr. C? It’s like I woke up and I knew I was the best rapper alive and I knew I was Mr C. You know I’m the Hat Brotha yundastand? I woke up out of bed and that was like ‘This is me, this is who I be.’ And...and fuck them other dudes cuz I’m Mr. C. ANC: Has anyone made any speculations on what Mr. C could stand for? MR C: Aww man, they go back and fourth man. A couple of dudes from around the way call me Mr. Child. Cuz I’m like a child man, Like an overgrown child and shit. Some bitches call me Mr. Cute yundastand? Some dudes call me Mr. Cat Fucker cuz I done fucked their cat. Some people call me Mr. Cannabis, Mr. Crack, Mr. Continual-release-of-opiods-in-my-system, yundastand? Mr. Can’t-take-a-piss-cause-I’m-too-fucked-up. Man it could be a million different things. I’m all them things man. Anything that C stand for, is what I am. I am Mr. C, and that’s it. I’m even Mr. See. Like S-E-E. Like Mr. See-you-coming-from-around-the-way-andmerk-your-ass-before-you-get-to-me, yundastand? I’m Mr. Sea like the great big sea, swallow your ass up, drown you, ya dig? I’m Mr. C. That’s just the way it is man. Ain’t no getting around that. ANC: What do you have coming up one the horizon? Any future shit? MR C: Radio Homicide ya dig? This will be my fourth album since I done came out the rehab. I finna just keep makin more. Like each album has been eight tracks thus far man, so I’ma just keep doin that. I got two right now, one on the way, and that leaves space for five more. I’ma a take five more radio beats, throw em on that Radio Homicide shit and then I’ma move on to something else. Go fuck with some otha dudes man. It’s a big big world out there. I’ll fuck with every dude that wants to fuck with me, yundastand? If ya’ll like my lyrics, I’ll fuck with ya’ll beats. It’s just the way it is man, unless I don’t like it.

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<3 HTML LUV ;-* The music Beer On The Rug puts out may suggest an instructional guide on how to properly set up your big screen TV. It’s the soundtrack of browsing Japanese hygiene products. It’s your new cassette being eaten by the stereo in your 92’ Corolla. WRITER: Jordan Vouga

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Netscape Communicator, Microsoft Paint, Geocities, MS-DOS, animated GIFS, maze screen saver, roll ball mouse, Rainbow Apple, Runescape, Angelfire, AIM, CD-ROM, floppy disc, ASL, Cryro Games. Each one of these serves as inspiration to a recent trend in music. Genre names have gotten out of hand so I will spare you the excruciating pain that comes with the futile attempt at labeling music. These terms should all be familiar to our internet generation. We were its first guinea pigs. We witnessed the days where games like Runescape were completely free. We had a Geocities or Angelfire website littered with Dragon Ball Z animated GIFS (or glittered dolphins jumping in endless cycles.). Online based record label, Beer On The Rug, seems to have harnessed these memories and turned them into a hub for like-minded musicians to unite. The music Beer On The Rug puts out may suggest an instructional guide on how to properly set up your big screen TV. It’s the soundtrack of browsing Japanese hygiene products. It’s your new cassette being eaten by the stereo in your 92’ Corolla. The bands on the label have names like Laserdisc Visions, MediaFired, Dolphin Tears, Boy Snacks, Macintosh Plus, and Computer Deams. While their music and names harken back to similar memories of being twelve, spending days inside eating Gushers while frantically clicking away on Netscape, each band contributes its own feel. This allows the label to create baby pictures of the internet, pink backwards hats and all. I have never come across a label so specific. Each release is nostalgic for our generation. In truth, if you weren’t a CPU kid making sites and leveling up on Runescape, while simultaneously editing your RPG banner on Photoshop 6.0, then you probably won’t like any of it.

McKenzie Toma New York, NY

about: McKenzie Toma is a musician who was born in Detroit. She has lived in Austria, Chicago, and now San Francisco. She mucks around with drawing and was born on February 8th in the evening while it was snowing. medium: ink, colored pencil, paper info: www.mckenzietoma.bandcamp.com

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Ciara Petruna New York, NY

about: A degree in production design & a natural inclination to photography since pre-teen years. Making life in to eye candy medium: 35 mm film

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Igor’s Dungeon written by: Zachary Vouga artwork by: Zachary Vouga *to be read while listening to tracks “Power of Persuasion”, “Remember” and “Replica” on Oneohtrix Point Never’s “Replica” album.

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Seeing doesn't have to be believing. When it comes to other worlds or secret lands, often times believing can be seeing. Certainly there are lines dividing fact and fiction; lines dividing what's "okay" and what has been deemed outlandish or unorthodox by today's flattened minds. I challenge you to cross those lines, I challenge you to take a step away, I challenge you take a a leap and see where you land. The mind can take you to many places. Are you submersible? Are you able? I must warn you, once certain lines have been crossed there is no "going back"; there is no revival. When it comes to these "lines", everyone's "cat" will be killed by curiosity, or float blissfully in ignorance. I am inmate #IZA12 at Model Penitentiary for the Mentally Estranged and I'm going to tell you why I'm here.

I was born to two end-of-world conspiracy theorists whose paranoia led them to partake in a mass suicide by arsenic-spiked champagne on the eve of "Y2K". Some didn't receive a sufficient dosage, writhing in pain for hours until help arrived. Fortunately, autopsies showed that my parents died within minutes. I was taken in by my just-as-deranged aunt and uncle. He was a pharmaceutical salesman while my aunt spent her days chain-smoking Pall Malls and watching the game show network, shouting out answers and occasionally breaking out in sobs over the miscarriage she had never gotten over. They did the best they could to provide me with normal childhood by sending me to public school, signing me up for extracurricular activities, and avoiding at all costs the manner in which

my parents led their lives and carried out their deaths. The edited version is that they were struck by a drunk driver on their way home from a New Year's Eve Party. They provided me with encouragement and motivation for a bright future. But every once in a while, I would overhear my aunt on the phone spewing out my name along with terms like "doomed," "kid never stood a chance," or a choked-up "Why would God give my fuck-up sister a child and take away my baby?". Beyond all of that, I knew they loved me. Last winter I turned 22. I moved from home and started going to a strip of night clubs known collectively as "the tunnels" for their location under the old rail yards in the cities rarely inhabited eastern quadrant. It was an underground terrace spanning five to six city blocks that at one time was home to the nation's largest animal slaughter field. The tunnels were packed with the the wicked, the visually unusual, the freaks. Outside each club, human oddities would perform tricks and tell stories and just about anything else to grab a dime for their next fix. The regulars called them the "working acts", and they were masters at exciting pity, fear, and pleasure. I don't know what it was about the tunnels that felt so welcoming. I guess it was just an escape from societies noose. People were themselves down there, they were raw and un-molded by daily routine.

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I spent nearly eleven months living in the eastern quadrant, exhausting most of my nights in Igor's Dungeon, the last club on the tunnel strip which boasted its abundance of gangsters, murderers and satanic rituals. I didn't go home to see my aunt and uncle once, and as far as they knew I ceased existing. In the dungeon the strobes were fast, the bass deafening and the fog so thick you could hardly see the person next to you. One fateful evening I crept in to Igor's just like any other night and sat down at the bar in between Trina, the dwarf prostitute I had a fling with, and an old man with a yin-yang tattooed over his face. Trina smiled at me with her cocktail straw resting lustfully on her warped lip. I was feeling lonely so I thought I'd ask her to accompany me for a session in the back room when I saw a woman in the corner of my eye that fit my fancy. Unfortunately her cost was high, and my funding low. Instead of resorting to Trina, I decided to expunge her memory by jacking off in the corner of the club. It was quick, easy, and erotic. The strobes reflected triumphantly off of my floor puddle and the bass gave it a lively pulse. I walked back to the bar with a smile, proud of the pearl pool I had given birth to. A few minutes went by, and I couldn't stop thinking about my ejaculate. It was fucking glorious. In its honor, I ordered the creamiest drink I could

think of -- a "Blind Russian" and ventured back through the fog and sweat to be with my babies before they dissipated. It was then that I ran into the most horrifying man I have ever laid eyes on. He was standing barefoot in the middle of my cum, staring down at it. Before I could turn back, he grabbed the top of my head with open fingers and I could feel the roots of my hair being uplifted by the tightening of his grip. His lips were rotted and his complexion was crusty brown with decay. He had long black hair and without question the longest nose I have ever seen. He stared straight into my soul, his eyes a mustard yellow that had seen both life and death and more. In quick and raspy segments he began to spew sentences strung together by frantic eyebrow movements and irregular breathing patterns: "I forgot who I am. I felt like crying and crying, I cried thinking about all of the mistakes, all of the mistakes…all of them. How stupid this world is…. the fools…. how can I go on with all these fools around me!? Remember, remembuh, remembuh, remmembuh, remember?" And it was at that point he took one unnecessarily long gasp of air and pulled his head backwards and whipped it forwards again, plunging his curly gray finger hard into my belly button. I fell to the floor, overcome with the most excruciating, out of this world sensation. I laid on the ground in my dying sperm, lost. I don't know how long I remained there, but by the time I gathered myself the man had vanished. I can't begin to explain to you how I felt. I felt like a different person. I staggered through the dungeon towards the exit, and all eyes were upon me. Two men covered in silver paint stopped groping each other and shuffled to the opposite end of the bar. Trina was screaming and pointing at me ushering two giant bouncers in my direction, I couldn't hear what she was saying, the music was too loud and in between flashes of purple and yellow strobe I could see the men approaching with their hands out. Facing what I could only describe as impending doom, I ran. As I raced through the alleys I knew that the tunnel, my sanctuary, my home would never be the same. I frantically ascended onto the streets and hailed a cab. I gave the driver my aunt and uncle's address, and with a sigh of relief I was on my home. The drive home was silent, and every now and then I would catch the cab driver staring at me through his mirror, but when our eyes would meet he would immediately look down. He spent the remainder of the ride trembling quietly. We pulled up in front of my Aunt and Uncle's house, and I handed him a wad of cash. Already it began to feel good to be back at home. The front door was locked, so I went around back where a spare key was hidden in a frog statues throat. I let myself in, excited for my surprise return. I saw my aunt immediately and my heart melted with love and nostalgia. I approached her, with tears streaming down my cheeks, unable to muster words. When she turned around I realized she was sobbing. She took one look at me, dropped her entire bottle of wine in the kitchen and let out a scream that echoed through time. My uncle came running down the stairwell with a baseball bat, and hit me over the head. When I came to, I was handcuffed and in between flashes of red and blue police lights I stared at my reflection. My lips were rotted and my complexion was crusty brown with decay. I had long black hair and without question the longest nose I have ever seen. I stared straight into my soul, my eyes a mustard yellow that had seen both life and death and more. I was informed that I was on my way to jail for a very long time, because according to my Aunt and Uncle, I was the man who murdered their nephew.

Album Reviews Jordan Vouga Ryan Holwerda Agree or disagree, we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t care either way.

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BEBETUNE$ Inhale C-4 $$$$$

The Paperhead Self Titled

SELA I Will Never Be Ten Again

BEBETUNE$ is the side project of virtual realist James Ferraro. BEBETUNE$ is music in the now, music that can only be good and only be listened to now. Your roommate will probably hate you for playing this, but I think that's what James would want. Listening to Inhale C-4 $$$$$ is like doing whippets while driving though San Francisco's Tenderloin neighborhood slowly sipping on codeine at 3 am. As you look out of the window of your 93 Accord, your not sure if the ghetto babe throwing herself around is having a seizure or jukeing. As soon as you pass, you forgot it happened. French inhales, glock 9's and grape white owl's. You wake up the next morning thinking it was all an horrifically delightful dream.

These 18 yr old kids from Nashville are making some pretty amazing shit right now. You might be fooled into thinking you are listening to an english, acid infused psychedelic 60’s band. They have mastered those swirling melodies, reversed vocals, textured guitar layers, sitars, eerie vocals and everything else that comes with a 60’s acid trip (even down to the album cover.). While everything else about these kids says 1968, the manner in which they deliver is nothing but modern.

Macintosh Plus Floral Shoppe JV

Sun Araw Ancient Romans JV

The amount of imagery conjured up in this album is astronomical. Think of watching Alejandro Jodorowsky slowly riding through the desert as a blood red sun beats mercilessly upon him. Your vision starts washing in and out as the album presses on. By the time you reach the end of the double LP, you feel you have gone through an epic journey led by Jodorowsky himself. One of the most surreal albums I’ve heard in a long time. The vocals and guitar melodies are reminiscent of 60’s psychedelic era, yet the surge and structure tell a much more contemporary tale.

ALLAH

MODE

L O S T e d e n

Allah Mode Lost Eden JV

The opening track, Beehive, is what it would feel like to be a Valryian longsword softly swaying from a Dragon Prince’s hip. The blade glows ice as you ride your way through dusted ruins of an ancient stronghold. The ruinous keep gives way to an underground cult worshiping molten gold. As you secretly gaze upon them, the xanax-like percussion/bass combination of their chants lull you into submission. Pilgrimage 2 Meta is that same longsword gracefully cutting down foes. It is more dance than battle. A dance of unwielding grace and horrific life blood. I would suggest indulging in your favorite vice before hand, but this album leaves little room for that. Listen loud.

Simple and balanced. Keeping things clean is much harder than it looks, and doing it well is even harder. SELA seems to have the equation memorized. The minimal drums compliment the sustained bass lines like whiskey and cigarettes. On top of that he adds wobbled samples creating a smoothly unique sound. This album is like remembering winter nights spent walking around downtown Chicago under the glow of Christmas lights as a young child. Forever stuck in the Bloomingdales revolving doors. Half icy wind synthesizers, half warm radiator jazz rifts.

Macintosh Plus is a project of Romana Vektroid (Laserdisc Visions). This album comprises of found tunes from the 70’s and 80’s chopped and slowed to create an entirely different feel. The jazz samples compliment the dropped vocals effortlessly. Floral Shoppe will make want to take an office job downtown Toyoko designing advertisements for hair conditioners and having an affair with the secretary in the broom closet.

Grimes Visions RH

Get stuck on a 45 minute car ride with a decent stereo. These are key ingredients to enjoy this contrast between cool electro melodies and warm percussions. It may take a track or two before you get swept into this beautiful wash of temperate waves.

Napolian Rejoice JV

I first stumbled across Napolian while picking up a record on the Software site. To find out this kid is 17 years old knocked me on my ass. What could a 17 yr old kid know about producing hi-fi hip hop beats? I guess everything. The amount of talent this young blood possesses is insane. While most kids his age are still playing in shitty high school bands or making, at best, sloppy beats on their MPC pads, this dude has already found his musical niche. And he is damn good at it. Take his advise (on the back of the album) and listen to as loud as possible.

Oneotrix Point Never Replica JV

This is one of those albums you need to get stoned and listen to on a very nice pair of headphones. You’ll be doing yourself a favor.

White Rabbits Milk Famous RH

Here's the pop album you'll enjoy all summer. Rich tones, smooth vocals, and a snap that clings to your brain. Damn.

M83 Hurry Up, We're Dreaming RH

Through 20 tracks and 74 minutes, epic is a frequently used and appropriate description. You're heart rate will jump for the opening of "Midnight City" and slow at the close of "Outro". Here is an album that will bring a tear as the album swings full circle.

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Thank You, Stephaneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Picq, Mr. C, Bonita Brown, John Mark Vouga, Geri Rose, Craig Jobson, Guy Villa, The music of Games, Nunu, The 8 Brothers, and some other people.

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