Curta Has Mirror Fears

I met The Commotion when I first moved downtown. They are a more or less secret rap collective of a few dudes. Their membership waxes and wanes. In between completing the mixes of Broken Machine in Brent's apartment and working one of the most demanding / shitty jobs I've ever had I would go to a house in Cap Hill and rap with The Commotion. We would sometimes rap for 8 hours straight. If we couldn't convince Brent to make live beats we'd rap over youtube or anything instrumental and free.  I would say a 3 hour session was minimal. I didn't think that after having made music for so long it could become that fun again. I was filled with confusion in my personal life and The Commotion was something between therapy, speaking in tongues, and bro-mance. We recorded everything as voice memos on our mobiles and then one day, like a caveman returning to cave with stick of fire Stash brought microphone and audio interface. Yes, Stash The Realist is part of The Commotion. So we decided to make a concept album based on the idea of Rappers Anonymous because, as we put it, "freestyles ruined my life."

Maybe one day The Commotion will share the complete FixTape with you, the album that we made together that summer threading together freestyles and stories about an eccentric group of rappers who have found one another at the bottom. But for now you will have to accept this single take freestyle over a beat Stash made. When we neared the end point of the album we just started making songs this way. "Hey, your turn." you'd be handed headphones and someone would hit space bar then everyone left the room. The harder you dig, the more things you dig up. Whack is fine. Maybe the theme of The Commotion is that if you approach a task nude and fearless you will reach the highest of highs alongside your greatest lows, like dirt between teeth or something. If that sentiment lacks artistic beauty it is because freestyling lacks discipline, purpose, and conventional songwriting motivation. If you can hide the fact that your brain is doggy-paddling between words and your mouth is slapping against itself to keep up you may have succeeded. Or you may have been atrocious. Had to be there to know.

You can hear an overdubbed voice in the introduction but the rest is grade C un-certified freestyles. They are still ruining my life. Happy birthday to me. Whack is fine. --Love Jake

No Rap Forgiveness Freestyle

A (p)remix by ManMadeMadMan of our not yet released song Replica. Part of the Broken Machine remix project out now on CurtaMusic.com

Replica (p)remix by ManMadeMadMan

Replica album out everywhere 8/28/2015
CurtaMusic.com

Lyrics:
Everyone as far as I can see is dressed famously I'm attempting to integrate the distance between them and me but I'm stuck and I'm simmering in subliminal thought wondering why everything I think can be shopped. Well why not? We don't stop and blame ourselves for acting the same, it's a survival technique for avoiding the pain. Replicate let the breeders carry faith in a briefcase. Mortgages, down payments, plots in outer space? Replicate, we have brung our faith in a suitcase, gaze upon the other while thy duplicate a mate. Have I said yet that I detest the word crew? I don't mind at all what the lot of you are up to When they're through human beings at attention in columns of two fixated to the ground by liberal amounts of Elemers glue. Life will begin in a cold dark refrigerator, tweak the settings on the auto-thermostat incubator. Don't get between what I am and what I do, manipulated by thumbs to annihilate you. We goose step in drones how kids watch gifs on flip phones. Working long distance and murdering from home. Theres phantom vibrations here. We have let the co-pilot steer. Replicate let the breeders carry faith in a briefcase. Mortgages, down payments, plots in outer space? Replicate, we have brung our faith in a suitcase, gaze upon the other while thy duplicate a mate. Replicate. Disintegrate. Replicate. 


God asks us why we’re covered in dust is the suitcase farmers or the last gold rush?
God asks us why our dreams all combust is it the rocket pak pioneers or the space lust
Our mothers are glass bottles we’re not from the earth’s crust
Thee who cuss us face exodus
Our batteries are up so you cannot erase us.

Titan

A song about being at the wrong dining room table. 

Created, mixed, recorded by: Jake Danna & Brent Larsen
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@CURTAmusic on sociopathic media frontiers

GOLDILOX

Our song re-contextualized by Philadelphian "Noir-Hop" rapper/producer Zilla Rocca.

#CURTAwins

Rap Trope Questionnaire (Zilla Rocca remix)

Icarus

Kurt came over one week with a bunch of gear to help me record my first full length poetry album, we drank beer all day and ate taco bell, these were likely the elements that made me feel lucid enough to freestyle under my then rap moniker Jalopy White. 

JalopyWhite Freestyle Circa 2008

Photoshopped Mummies

On our way to a wikipedia page. #CURTAwins

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