
"You just try listening to the absurd complaints of a robotic pessimist without laughing. It's Impossible."'


World Laughs with You

Beat Lab. Stock sounds. Covered-wagon funk.

These ingredients reminded me of The Oregon Trail. The old one. The 8-bit video game from the 80's. 

Heh...yeah...

Bridge Warshed Out, Ma.

This one is unfinished but I needed to post it so my next post makes sense as part of a larger scheme of experimentation.

All Warfare Is Based on Deception

Ever driving down a switchback dirt road out in the boondocks and see one of those bad-ass country "Stay the fuck off my land"  signs? Well take a cool farm sign-add a robot voice- git record. Data-jockeys! PSA-- SCAM--TCP

The Farmer Will Let You Cross The Field.

A slice-of-life art party conversation at the painter Jeff Filipski's house. All types of people, like, lawyers, artists, engineers, and at least one human skull; Getting buzzed and reflecting on life. Good times.

 (Jeff Filipski, Chris Brewer, Ashley Elmore, and me)

777 Math Talk with Filipski

After all what are friends for? Special thanks to Data-Jockey co-conspirator and vocalist Jaime Pivar. 

Jaime's Sugar Bowl Petite

Kitchen Utensils

A robot reading a revolting first draft of my epic poem, "The Bestial Worm." A dirty, undulating poem that's only gotten more disgusting since this draft made the rounds of robot intellectuals.  You know how it is. Each new version of the 'Worm" is more, ...more,...well you'll see...  

The Bestial Worm

Space Crunk. A song that wants some action dirt-side so hyper-sleep seems earned. 

Space Crunk

Experiment with new samples and throw-back jungle ala beatlab.com

Jungle Violin

How far is too far when "that's pretty close" is far enough? And what does that even mean? Drinks by the pool anybody?

8-Bit Warrior

Men Dream of Women,

Women Dream of Themselves being Dreamt of

Women Dream of Themselves Being Dreamt of

Jaime Pivar singing Bluebird while ensconced inside the most aggressive, abstract, pseudo-syncopation I am capable of producing. I love it of course. I;ve bumped it five times in a row to get my heart rate up (project due on Monday--uh.) and naturally I have no remorse from waking my neighbors. None. Jaime  doesn't know that Data-Jockey chaos has her surrounded-- so blame me--that is, if for some reason you're incapable of appreciating my creation. If you love it --have no remorse for your neighbors either. God's teeth I love this song.  

Bluebird in a Maelstrom

 A lecture on the human genome and it's cultural implications-----spliced into music that was not written but "evolved"

Data-Jockeys Evolution

A digital simulacrum of a fun loving 1950's garage band drummer that won't calm down because he's drunk.

Beatnik Gold

Mind Blinding: The temporary, but visceral loss of the capacity for thought brought on by exposure to any abysmally stupid, vicious, --and even in extreme cases adorable-- thoughts or actions emanating from outside the self. Using neural substructures that were originally pathways and triggers for mirroring behaviors, eg yawning, an abysmally stupid mental state creates a contagious duplicate state exactly replicating heinous lackwit blankness and propagating in host witnesses, eg yawning. Speechlessness is a common outward symptom. Mind-Blinding is primarily a line of sight phenomenon.

Mind Blinding

'Me and my Smart-Phone just started a band together. I'm the lead singer. Android's on drums. Yeah man. We call ourselves Data-Jockeys, since like, I'll play anything man and he's a smartphone. Me and the Droid could jump on stage with three VCR's and a TI-85 calculator. Or we can plug him into the sound board directly and raffle the junk. Whatever needs done. Android thinks his stage name should be 'Future Present.' ...I'm like...Fuck yeah man. Who's going to stop you?... No way man. You got an app for that. Gimme ten-don't break the skin! ...oh, damn...I think I hung-up... We spend a lot of time together, he and I. Is it because we're both very productive and well behaved members of society?No. Not at all. Me and him have the same musical interests and our goal is to be a core-duo with a lot of different guest talent. And we'll produce whole albums full of weird 'interlude' tracks. I mean face it man, ten years later it's always obvious that (band-x) should've followed that one weird interlude song they had out to where it went when they had the chance. Dude they should've been first to get to somewhere new-- instead of last-in-line irrelevant and elevatored-out. So there's that---But we also want to DJ old funk in dive-bars around Orlando--yeah--get all the rowdy drunks super-sore-abs laid by strangers--fuck yeah. So yeah, my man 'Future Perfect' is pretty much a whole recording studio in my pocket that's happy to see me, it's nuts, really. An Artist, an Android, and an Internet walk into a bar --yo -hold up---What the fuck are you laughing at buddy? But nah, not really, If anybody doesn't like our Electro-Spectaclist Agenda... hell... the Android tweets-- 'Don't judge my Sci-fi' fool.' -- direct via satellite and shit before we dip... Speaking of. My man looks wan. Gotta plug him in right quick. I'll holla at ya later.

Cliffton Chandler

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