1864

astro

Mixed

dogs

Astronautalis

Like atmosphere

Woo haa

FREE DOWNLOAD! 
Written/recorded by Sage Francis in 2004. Beat by Reanimator. Record Label: http://StrangeFamousRecords.com
FB: http://facebook.com/SageFrancis
Twitter: http://twitter.com/SageFrancis
LYRICS:
By the time the flags rotted off of their antennas,
they were questioning who the real threat is.
Big Brotherly love is the 21st century's plague.
No matter how bloody the glove, question evidence displayed. 

Don't forget what two plus two equals. 
Don't let them upgrade your math no matter what they have as proof of evil. 
Remember when they went after the Jewish people? 
You don't recognize that same black mask as see through? 

Attack of the eagles. If they don't fall dead 
before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in its bald head. 
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted 
was a warm bed and a house that wasn't haunted. 

I'd rather die for a cause than to die just because 
we exhausted natural resources, forced into wars, 
restoring wasteful ways, keeping other countries poor. 
"Monkey see, Monkey do." I wonder what those fucking monkeys saw. 

Keep rethinking the still-frames in your mind.
I guarantee they will change with time.
Your outline is pixelated with poor resolution while
downtime is simply wasted. You were born execution style.

Head first in a trial. I'll second the motion
'Til the jury's bored to death and puts your neck in a notion.
The situation's volatile. A naked problem child
is trying to find the right clown costume to make his father smile

So he bombs while he tries to tell jokes.
This ain't a false alarm, can't you smell the smoke?
You're in the line of fire where they buy and sell votes.
Our sense of liberty doesn't ring true, stupid. that's why the bell broke.

Trench Coat Mafioso's propel rocks
at recruitment officers and rebel against cops
Until they hurdle infinite circles in small cell blocks. 
Turtle upon turtle 'til they're all shell shocked.

This so-called president got elected in a court room.
With the war efforts of pops he inherited a fortune.
We "talk, talk, talk..." so the veterans of war assume
the revolution stopped. This ain't a protest tune.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. 
They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. 
They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. 
It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...
I'm a wait until their fuckin' skin decays."

You can't roam a lost land as the last existing dinosaur.
There's no escaping ass kickings in these times of war,
replacing apples with hospitals where doctors are hostile,
Killing two pterodactyls with one fossil.

I got you. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in its bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted,
Was a warm bed...and house that wasn't haunted.

Thumb through novels to have your fingerprints match,
The description of thinking criminals committing innocent acts
of compassion for tired civilians crawling with pistols.
We fired million dollar warning missals.

Force the issues in the back of your head where eyes roll.
Brain wash yourself out of that mind control.
Or act a fool like you're told.
But we won't see no type of justice 'til that bitch removes the blindfold.

This ain't a "Love it or leave it." It's a "Change it or lose it."
I won't sing the anthem of a nation who never faces the music.
Chasing an ever-elusive caveman,
in space ships that make trips to the futures that are name-brand.

Faking progress...but we ain't advanced
Enough to change the posture of our ape stance?
They've got the key to the city but they prefer the break-in entry.
Duck and weave, I'm shedding light in their shadow box to make it empty.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. 
They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. 
They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. 
It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...
I'm a wait until their skin decays."

Attack of the eagles. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in its bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted
was a warm bed... 

There's nothing scarier than the human stories I tell ghosts.
Chilling accounts with my tongue frozen to bed posts.
The catharses of carcasses whenever threats are close,
Shows a heartlessness that doesn't register on stethoscopes.

Sell your hopes for a homeland security chart,
Until your sense of self is broke and no man's pure in the heart.
Preventive detention for the folks who never left home.
Tensions have grown into a 24/7 red zone.

Scare tactics have got you under control.
The fear factors of a color code. The uppers know
They can't hold you down without having anchors attached.
"It's all the same." Nah, balls and chains on ankles don't match.

So drag your torso back to the off road.
We may have lost the fashion battle, but we ain't lost the wardrobe.
Go window shopping for your next free meal,
'Cause when we start the revolution all you'll probably do is steal.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. 
They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. 
They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. 
It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time…
I'm a wait until their fucking skin decays."
http://SageFrancis.net

SAGE MERCH

"Hey Bobby" - Sage Francis (with lyrics)

Taken from our album Voices. Download here: http://smarturl.it/PhantogramVoicesiT

Voices

Black Out Days

SEA LION - Sage Francis, Will Oldham, Saul Williams

Download "Play It Right" on iTunes: http://smarturl.it/PlayItRight.iTunes

Taken from the debut album out now.

Download the album from iTunes: http://smarturl.it/SylvanEsso.iTunes


www.sylvanesso.com
www.twitter.com/SylvanEsso
www.facebook.com/SylvanEsso
@sylvanesso


Sylvan Esso

H.S.K.T.

1984

Produced by @paper_tiger_doomtree
from Field Notes, available now http://doomtree.net/fieldnotes http://smarturl.it/fieldnotes 
A.Sims (Sims is a Business ASCAP), J. Samels (Skip Steps 1&3 ASCAP)

Lyrics:

I was plucked from the sky 
pulled down into the the black goo 
an evil surrounded me 
now I’m trying to pull my way back through 
maybe I was running too fast 
too locked in, too cocky, too close to the sun 
needed to be burned on down 
well that’s how it turned out 
I’m not sure if I believe in god 
but there’s a force that’ll even odds 
leave your logic flawed 
leave you saying (insert black block_ PAPES) 
maybe that was code 
pull me off the road because I went too far from home 
maybe that was wrong but I’ll never know 
it goes exactly how it goes 
and supposing doesn't get me closer to what would’ve been 
tally the wins, rally the loss, put wind in the sails 
me and my chick, she’s bad as fuck, we on that no matter what shit 
we ain’t noting to fuck with 
same as the crew I grew up with 
from the downswing to the uptick 
the mud don’t get as thick as the blood 
and a motherfucker don’t quit ever he just learns how to trudge 
so where you are it’s a call out, roof gone, walls out 
no sir, no sale, I will see you in hell 
from the bell to the tomb I’m all out 

even lost on the rockiest road I wouldn't take another way 
even on the darkest night, even on the coldest day 
and I’ll never know if that was right until it’s too late 
so I guess I’ll do this my way 

I vibrate like five strings doing solos around the whole globe 
and I expand like rubber bands show you how low can a soul go 
and I snap in half and I put it back, no illusions 
I go into with no delusions 
I don’t know it I just fucking do it, ain’t nothing too it 
fear has got no business here 
but it don’t disappear it just lives near 
and I let that settle, prove my mettle 
and I never peddle that sentimental 
call my manager, tell him I don’t give a fuck 
should’ve quit years ago 
a buck? god damn it I do what I love 
and all my heroes are broke 

even lost on the rockiest road I wouldn't take another way 
even on the darkest night, even on the coldest day 
and I’ll never know if that was right until it’s too late 
so I guess I’ll do this my way 

I push until I break then I find me some tape 
been that way since I was a boy 
and I found that it snaps when it’s wound too tight 
now I do it lightly with time to enjoy 
when I get picked off by scope or claw 
I land with style like I planned it out 
make it work like hand-me-downs 
with a fresh new cut to sing about 

even lost on the rockiest road I wouldn't take another way 
even on the darkest night, even on the coldest day 
and I’ll never know if that was right until it’s too late 
so I guess I’ll do this my way

Sims "Scope or Claw"

Song written by Astronautalis & Picnic Tyme
Piano: Chad Stockslager
Guitar & Bass: John Congleton
Strings: Daniel Hart
Backing Vocals: Rookie Sensation Mike Wiebe
Additional Drums by: McKenzie Smith
Additional Synths by: Sean Kirkppatrik

Produced By John Congleton

The River, The Woods

Download "CoCo" now on iTunes: http://smarturl.it/OTGCoCo

Site: http://otgenasis.com
Follow: twitter.com/otgenasis 
Like: facebook.com/otgenasis 
Follow: instagram.com/otgenasis 
Watch: youtube.com/otgenasis
Listen: @otgenasis

CoCo

Download

FROM THE VAULTS VOL. THREE:
DANG 1: SEVEN FREESTYLES IN SEVEN DAYS

For seven days straight, In 2006, i woke up every morning, and freestyled what i had dreamt about the night previous. I would quickly jot down notes from what i could recall of my mind's noctural adventure, make coffee, come back down to my room, and record a freestyle over one of the simple beats i stockpiled for this project. 

The idea for this album initially came to me out of a frustration. At that point, i had been freestyling for over a decade, and had started to grow weary of the parlor trick quality of the whole thing. I am total ham, i LOVE entertaining people, but after probably tens of thousands of hours of freestyling, i was starting to feel like i was hitting a wall. And the last thing i wanted to do, was grow to hate this craft i had spent so many hours honing. This craft that had built my career on. 

So, i set out to start to experimenting, trying new ways to push the craft of freestyling beyond the parlor trick it had become, and perhaps find ways to turn that craft into an artform. My first idea was, this album, a dream journal in rap. This particular project has taken on greater meaning to me lately, as i have already started to dive back into this experimentation with freestyling this year. My relationship with this craft has changed so drastically over in the 20 years i have spent rapping, and it feels good to look back at this album, the moment when i was so burnt out on it, and realize that almost 10 years later, i am still working with it, still growing with it, and still loving it. 

I hope you enjoy this album, my first experiment. 


SXSW

The Dogs Are Always Faster

The Dirtiest Freestyle I Have Ever Done

My Boo

Brighton Damn Park

Now And Never More (Featuring Input)

from the upcoming album Oddisee "The Good Fight" (5/5)
https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/the-good-fight/id969829649

In a landscape overrun with abstract indulgence and shallow trend-chasers, the Prince George’s County, Maryland artist Oddisee has created 'The Good Fight', a record that reminds you that it’s music before it’s hip-hop. Due May 5th on Mello Music Group, it’s for the fans and for himself. It finds the musical heavyweight balancing between craft, career, and successfully growing into the world around him. Stream the first single, "That's Love".

Album Description:
Oddisee makes music that rattles in your bone marrow. It’s imbued with love, honesty, and selflessness. It’s virtuosic in its musicality, direct in its language, and infinitely relatable.
 
In a landscape overrun with abstract indulgence and shallowtrend-chasers, the Prince George’s County, Maryland artist has created “The Good Fight,” a record that reminds you that it’s music before it’s hip-hop. Released on Mello Music Group, it’s for the fans and for himself. It finds the musical heavyweight balancing between craft, career, and successfully growing into the world around him.
 
For Oddisee, “The Good Fight” is about living fully as a musician without succumbing to the traps of hedonism, avarice, and materialism. It’s about not selling out and shilling for a paycheck, while still being aware that this is a business requiring compromise and collaboration.
 
It’s music that yields an intangible feeling: the sacral sound of an organ whine, brass horns, or a cymbal crash. It’s not necessarily the syllables, but rather what they evoke. A song like “That’s Love” is more than a declaration; it’s a meditation on our capacity to love and the bonds binding us together. Ambition and greed war with our sense of propriety. “Contradiction’s Maze” offers a list of paradoxes we all face (“I want to tell the truth when it hurts/but when it comes to me, I want the blow softened.”)
 
Oddisee’s production simmers in its own orchestral gumbo. You sense he’s really a jazzman in different form, inhabiting the spirit of Roy Ayers and other past greats.  The Fader’s compared him to a musical MC Escher, calling hailing his “grandiose and symphonic sound” and “relevant relatable messages.” Pitchfork praised his “eclectic soulful boom-bap.”
 
“The Good Fight” acknowledges the stacked odds, but refuses to submit.
 
It’s both universal and personal. The child of a Sudanese immigrant highlights the rigors of his own upbringing: his pregnant mother working the register until she was about to burst, his pops’ shuttered diner that couldn’t survive Reaganomics—the one that Oddisee drives past every time he returns home, just to remind him how quickly the world can turn bad.
 
It’s these minor details that add into something major. It’s testament to the indelible nature of art: when you can turn what you love into something that lasts.


Oddisee - That's Love

Mad Caddies - Macho Nachos

SIKE
Produced by: Adam Pickrell
Sequenced & Arranged by: John Congleton
Additional Drum Programming: Bird Peterson 
Horns: Reggie Pace

 I've been on some burn it down, leave this town, never look back shit 
Passing out on your couch, sneaking out the back tip
 Ripping credit cards out your mailbox snatch it
 Charge it to the game playboy, it's practice
  They been on some got this, squat this, reroute the power grid
 Cops can't stop this, over our dead body bitch
 Eat this, drop this, turn it up louder kid 
Put it down in our path? Million ways around that shit  
We backstage sterilizing tattoos with beer 
You cats stay paralyzed by bad news and fear 
You underage and they ain't fucking let you in here 
Fake ID G, and buy us all beer  
I’m sick of kids who sit and bitch about how they can't get into shit 
Ya "woe is me" steez, just getting bit ridiculous
 Fucking A, you're underage, that means they just slap your wrist
 If not, you're young and fit, “Yeah Bitch! Out run the pigs!”  
Ha! And give em all trophies
And some orange slices 
Yeah, y'all already know me 
One of the only that's really grindin’
  Lazy motherfuckers wanna call it luck 
Be real motherfuckers know there ain't no such
 Thing cause i mean there ain't no free lunch
 You better fix your own plate or serve one to us
  Go on pray to your God, or complain on facebook 
Stay waiting for your Dad, to come save the day dork
 Voted for Obama, and expecting changes It’s just one big party all giving the same gifts  "SIKE!"  Like a P.O.S T-shirt! 
YIKES!  It’s only gonna get worse! 
RIGHT?  This beat Is kinda bzerk 
Turn it up louder till my fucking teeth hurt!
  Yeah girl, I own some gold teeth
I’m southern, I was taught to hold heat
Ain’t no gangster, I’ll tell that true
Rick Ross just a cop with some bad tattoos

Florida baby, yeah my neck stay real red
While you make believe pushing that white shit
You dress up gangsters can play pretend
I stay slangin that white girl round my bed

Young Steve McQueen spit that dick game
You tweet real bossy for a bitch with a tin chain
I don’t need no Maybach just to sharpen my pimp girl
Pull girls on my bike they ride my handlebars home, man!

Ooh!  Put my word on that chief
Rihanna gonna haller, the way I murdered that beat
A condom like an umbrella, King Kong in the bed sheets
Just haller at a fella when you’re done with that dead beat!

CHORUS

 See, I can write your dumb raps 
Pay me, and go buy some hubcaps
 Fake G’s talkin bout gun claps
 Ain't gonna happen, like A-Rod's come back
  Talent is cheap, money's all made up
 Gallons of beam, and the speakers based up
Fuck it!  I got nothing left to say son 
Y'all get Cryphy!  Thank you Based God! 

CHORUS 

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."
-Albert Camus


Side One Dummy Records: Worldwide
Cargo Records: Europe

Sike!

Title track from Mixed Blood Majority's upcoming album Insane World, out December 4th. Album release show at First Avenue on December 11th with P.O.S and GRRRL PRTY. Tickets on sale now: bit.ly/mbm121115

Pre-order the new album at http://store.doomtree.net

Vocals by Joe Horton and Crescent Moon
Produced by Lazerbeak
Co-produced by Graham O'Brien


Insane World

Third single from Mixed Blood Majority's upcoming album Insane World, out December 4th via F.I.X and Doomtree. Pre-order the new album at store.doomtree.net

Album release show at First Avenue on December 11th with P.O.S and GRRRL PRTY. Tickets on sale now: bit.ly/mbm121115

Vocals by Joe Horton and Crescent Moon
Produced by Lazerbeak
Co-produced by Graham O'Brien

Foxes Den

NO MORE PARTIES IN L.A. FEAT. KENDRICK LAMAR

Purchase on iTunes: http://apple.co/1NzY1Jn

Listen on Spotify: http://bit.ly/1VAqlDT

The band NAC, comprised of MC STS grammy nominated producers Butta 'N' Bizkit and DJ Schoolie V bring you their first release "I Aint Got It'. The song is packed fulll of fun and energy, STS southern flow blends well over the Butta'N' Bizkit produced tracked leading into the infectious chorus sung by Bizkit  'You can get it all night, all day tryna hold a N!&&@ down baby no way. I AINT GOT IT'. These guys definitely have a NAC for making music. 

Follow NAC's journey through their socials below. 

https://www.instagram.com/nac4music/
https://twitter.com/nac4music/
https://soundcloud.com/officialnac

I Ain't Got It

DO NOT SHARE WITH ANYONE, WITHOUT ASKING ME (ANDY) DIRECTLY!  ALL OF THESE PEOPLE LISTED BELOW WORKED VERY HARD, FOR A LOT OF HOURS TO MAKE THIS COME TOGETHER, LEAKING THIS WOULD RUIN ALL THAT EFFORT.
THANKS!

1. SIKE!
Music by: Adam Pickrell
Sequenced and Arranged by: John Congleton
Additional Drum Programming: Bird Peterson
Horns: Reggie Pace

2. Papillion
Music by: Lazerbeak
Additional Synths & Organs: Adam Pickrell
Live Drums: Mo McNichols

3. Interbellum*
Music by: Amati & ICETEP
Additional Synths & Organs: Adam Pickrell
Live Drums: Mo McNichols

4. You Know What It Is!
Music by: Astronautalis & B.J. Burton
Additional Synths: B.J. Burton
Additional Drum Programming: Bird Peterson
Horns: Reggie Pace

5. SIKE! (Subp Yao Remix):
https://soundcloud.com/subpyao

6. SIKE! (GodDamnChan Remix)
https://soundcloud.com/goddamnchan

7. SIKE! (Bird Peterson Remix)
https://soundcloud.com/bird-peterson

All words and vocals by: Astronautalis.  Produced & Recorded by: John Congleton at the magical fucking April Base in Fall Creek, Wisconsin.  Mixed by: John Congleton at the Elwood Funeral Home in Dallas, Texas.  Except “You Know What It Is”.  B.J. Burton laid down his synths AND mixed that shit like a gad-damned wizard, in his bedroom at Lucia’s Trap Mansion.  

Mastered by: Heba Kadry  at Timeless Mastering in Brooklyn, NY.  All things are possible through Justin Vernon.  Thanks Bud!  Special thanks to Bird Peterson, Subp Yao, and GodDamnedChan for  their remixes.  Do yourself a favor and check out all their work...they GOOD AS HELL!

*“Interbellum” contains an element of “Daily Routine” by Animal Collective (Domino Records ©2009)

But this here EP is ©2016 SideOneDummy Records under exclusive license from Astronautalis

FOR A GOOD TIME, VISIT: SIDEONEDUMMY.COM AND ASTRONAUTALIS.COM


You Know What It Is!

ATILLA AMBRUS 
Produced by: Picnic Tyme
Additional Synths & Bass: Adam Pickrell
Additional Drum Programming: John Congleton
Horns: Reggie Pace

  Girl, I’ll make a mink stole from the Spanish Moss 
And drag a shot of whiskey up from the river bottom 
We ain't got to swallow our pride! 
We ain't got to swallow our pride!  
Gimmie a long kiss goodbye, hold your heart
 Be sure and tell em all just why I shot him
 Don't ever let em catch you cryin!
Don't ever let em catch you cryin!  

Come on lady i been waitin patient pacing playing the wall for maybe half of the night 
You been playin hard to get, you taste your fingertips, you dip into the glass and spin the ice
  The heat is on the kettle now, we'll never settle down, and darlin i ain't asking for life 
Let's blow some steam, and spin across the planks and beams, I wanna dance and shake the rafters and lights
  Old John Law's gonna drag our asses through the streets 
When he slaps them cuffs on my hands I want blisters 
Blisters on my feet
Blisters on my feet
Blisters on my feet
Bring that chorus back for me!  

CHORUS

  I ain't never seen a man who could make sense of what the good lord is asking us right
 I wasn't born to kill, but baby, that's just morning’s pill that we don't have to swallow tonight  
All our friends had bitter ends with broken bottle hands and cigarettes for lashes on eyes
 So let's collapse on boulevards of bottle caps, and sing a song for all the crap in our lives. 
  I know we got blues beating down our door 
Got a time till sunrise, so flip that deadbolt and get back out on the floor  Old John Law's gonna drag our asses through the streets
 When he slaps them cuffs on my hands I want blisters
 Blisters on my feet
Blisters on my feet
Blisters on my feet
Bring that chorus back for me!

CHORUS 

SONG PRODUCED BY: Picnic Tyme
ADDITIONAL SYNTHS & BASS: Adam Pickerell
ADDITIONAL DRUM PROGRAMING BY: John Congleton
HORNS: Reggie Pace

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER: Justin Vernon
ALBUM PRODUCED, ENGINEERED, & RECORDED BY: John Congleton at April Base Studios. Fall Creek, WI
MIXED BY: John Congleton at The Elm Street Funeral Home. Dallas, TX
MASTERED BY: Heba Kadry at Timeless Mastering. Brooklyn, NY

Cover Photo: Cameron Wittig
HMUA: Romney Chan
“Florida Flag Robe” Designed and Made by: Lina Tillmann
“Handmade Helvetica” Font by: Andy McAlpine

Under Exclusive LIcense from Astronautalis to Cargo Records in the EU and SideOneDummy in all other territories.

CUT THE BODY LOOSE


Attila Ambrus

Produced by: Cecil Otter
Additional Synths & Bass: Adam Pickrell
Additional Drum Progamming: John Congleton
Horns: Reggie Pace

Even after 6 months, NOLA was still a wreck
The 9th ward still had water up to your chest
Under I-10, they piled the dead cars
Ever seen an ambulance with high water marks?

They don’t dance no more, all we do is flinch
And brace for that old taste that chase a strong fist
With blood on our lips, and flooded bricks
Taste that whiskey kiss, born sweaty and free
Fuck a club, motherfucker, take that shit to the streets

We were born running away from God!
We were born running away!

10 euros is cheap for sure
He said it all in broken words, 
but these people ain’t got nothing
they’d rather drink what they have then buy your merch 

Čadca isn’t pretty, but Tatranský works
Thick liquor dark brown, made of secret herbs
Slovakia gets busy, they don’t need no words
And anything is club if the speakers work

Turn it up till it shakes the plaster
No kings, no gods, no masters
The beat builds while the euro collapsing
Little kids tagging “all cops are bastards”

AntiFa is passin, in they old jean jackets
They don’t need no magic just to make it happen
Make out, make do, make the best of what you got
And turn the volume up till it shakes the rafters 

Till it shakes the rafters
Till it shakes the rafters
Till it shakes the rafters
We make our own disasters

CHORUS

We ain’t no gangsters
We ain’t no thugs
We’re all just flesh and blood
And we don’t need you to mess this up
We independent son, dig our own graves
Salt our own lands, make our own plagues just for fun
You can test us come
We’ll be waiting by the front gate with the Beam in our cup

And I’m dumbfound how in my home town, when the cops come they all just run
And when the land lord wants us out, we pack our bags and shut the whole thing up
So I was like, “aiiight, what you do when the police come through to shake you down?”
She laughed out loud and said, “we lock them motherfuckers out!”

That’s a true story.

ALBUM CREDITS:
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER: Justin Vernon
PRODUCED, ENGINEERED, & RECORDED BY: John Congleton at April Base Studios. Fall Creek, WI
MIXED BY: John Congleton at The Elm Street Funeral Home. Dallas, TX
MASTERED BY: Heba Kadry at Timeless Mastering. Brooklyn, NY

Cover Photo: Cameron Wittig
HMUA: Romney Chan
“Florida Flag Robe” Designed and Made by: Lina Tillmann
“Handmade Helvetica” Font by: Andy McAlpine

Under Exclusive LIcense from Astronautalis to Cargo Records in the EU and SideOneDummy in all other territories.


Running Away From God

Sage Francis -  Crack Pipes

This track is from The DJ Shadow Remix Project.  Download this track for free and get DJ Shadow updates at http://djshadow.com.

Walkie Talkie (Irn Mnky "Beat Down" Mix)

Brainfreeze Break est une compilation de morceaux soul et funk sélectionnés par messieurs Cut Chemist et DJ Shadow et utilisés dans leurs mixes désormais bien connu Brainfreeze. Vous vous doutez bien que lorsque deux DJ's parmi les plus talentueux au monde font leur compilation, ce n’est évidemment pas pour faire une redite de la dernière compilation Hit Machine. 
Ils ont ainsi tirés de nombreuses merveilles de leurs collections de vieux 45-tours et vous pouvez vous préparez pour une invasion de cuivres festifs, de basses profondes et ravageuses et de batteries déchaînées. On trouve aussi bien des morceaux instrumentaux que chantés, mais au final assez peu d’intrumentaux funk.

DJ Shadow - Brainfreeze Breaks - 10 - the soul lifters - hot, funky, and sweaty

This song was written and recorded in 2001 for the Sage Francis "Sick of Waging War" mix CD. It features Eyedea and Slug on vocals. Not only was this beat produced by Eyedea, but it was also recorded and mixed in his home studio. We lost Micheal "Eyedea" Larsen in October 2010. Here is Sage's write-up about how we lost a beautiful man, musician and artist much too soon: http://tinyurl.com/TheManBehindTheEyedea

"Sick of Waging War" is available on CD and MP3 at http://biturl.net/wagingwar