Betweenegos +|Flylo|+

Made this beat whilst drinking some Om tea...

Healing Tea

The third part of our occasional mix series: The guys from Radio Juicy deliver a great mix of unheard gems from the big world of soundcloud producers, many of them not yet known to wider audience.

as requested, here is the track listing:
Akusa - Bricks
tropes - ms.you
jongpadawan - afternoon croissant
jongpadawan - tolv ti
grimm doza - midknight
grimm doza - haze
rxn - dreams
x - riding waves
zoundeffect - south
mikas da gawd - what would i do
nomad - vantagepnt
david pulu - yes
cashmere - catdog
x - prayed for you
aksua - do you know i love you
[ksg] - frog child
samuel truth - gaia
bsd.u - dead wrong
x - i got you
rxn - of u
carpet patrol - indian slap
al.zeus - 50 messages
cygn - after coma
tentacle - ocean swing
luviia x linn mori - pogo stick
psymun - cold in here
strange vice - porgy
daisy cutta x weirdough - paperclip
aso. - tasty feat. doom

facebook.com/Radiojuicy
soundcloud.com/radiojuicy
radiojuicy.com

Radio Jakarta 003: Radio Juicy - "Radio Juicy For Jakarta"

This is the first in my ongoing 'Cassingle' remix series, one-off stand-alone remixes of tracks I adore and - in remixing them - get an excuse to listen to them all the more.
Jason Molina passed in 2013, leaving behind a faultless and gorgeous legacy of heartbreaking and wonderful music. I first heard him on Magnolia Electric Co (of which the song 'Farewell Transmission' remains my favourite song of all time), the first stop on my ride. His album 'Pyramid Electric Co' followed not long after, the sound of a man in a room with one or two instruments, which struck me directly and immediately. The first chord is a lightning bolt through whatever listening device you choose and is a relentless but subtle demonsration of the sweetest of melancholies.
I chose the first track of that album to remix, again, as it afforded me the opportunity to listen to it in even more detail, and hopefully share his immaculate voice with any of y'all who may be yet to hear him, and with those of you who already enjoy him and his appearances.
Made with respect. Thank you for peeping.
XXX ENJOY XXX

BP Store

CASSINGLE REMIX 001: JASON MOLINA - Pyramid Electric Co

BLOOD : Composed / Engineered / Mixed / Performed / Mastered by James Robert Farmer as Krovi for Sleep On Dreams
Sleeve design by Holly Albright 

Dedicated to the fury of Alan Vega

Blood (single mix) A1

@jsprno
Much love.

2016 © Slick Witted Ent.
2016 ℗ Slick Witted Ent.

Lyrics:

Back up, Back down
Ripping out my heart with the sound
(with the sound)
Back up, Back down
No I don’t wanna fight you
I just wanna write to
These beats	
No you cant defeat
And there’s no winning
‘cause it’s not a competition, yuh
‘cause it’s not a competition, nah
‘cuase it’s not a competition
Back up, Back down
Ripping out my heart with the sound
(with the sound)
Back up, Back down
No I don’t wanna fight you
I just wanna write to
These beats	
No you cant defeat
 ‘cause it’s not a competition, yuh
‘cause it’s not a competition
‘cuase it’s not a competition

Yeah,
Let me prescribe a precise prescription of precision
Never missing in vision im fishing
Like fish and religion
After the third day
From the depths I have risen, yuh
Damn straight like my priorities
Get more bitches than sororities
Put my middle finger to the sky
Not just for police,
I’m saying fuck all authorities
Fuck all authorities
Talking to majorities 
So called superiorities
That’s really inferiorities
Representing all my-norities
We the minors/miners
We the true hill climbers
I’m the paint and the primer
Ima two timer divider
More sublimer than any signer
Of autographs
Floating in my motto raft
This is my craft
Explicitly,
Using lyrical myrical wizardry
Not into misery
Really the spirit is the key
Even better than two be
I’m an A plus
And I hope hopefully
You can see, in every degree
That this is who it is that I am meant to be

Back up, Back down
Ripping out my heart with the sound
(with the sound)
No I don’t wanna fight you
I just wanna write to
These beats and release
No you cant defeat
And there’s no winning
‘cause it’s not a competition
not a competition
Back up, Back down
Ripping out my heart with the sound
(with the sound)
No I don’t wanna fight you
I just wanna write to
These beats	
No you cant defeat
And there’s no winning
 ‘cause it’s not a competition, yuh
‘cause it’s not a competition

Raising the bar
My propositions I will pass
But this is not democracy
So I don’t need to ask
Im looking opn my bleprints with the magnifying glass
Tryna find the snake that is sliding through the grass
But its going so fast
As it passes
That we cannot see
So I use my lyrical dexterity
Cuz Im sick of hearing them fake ass satirical parodies
So I brought the scene this miracle rarity
A muddy bar of soap
That Imlores the use of clarity
Though barely living sterily
And were Popping off merilly
Feral-y friends with the streets
Feral-y friends with the streets
Gotta stop double dog daring me to be a beast
Stop double dog daring me to be a beast
Crushing y’all to rubble with my subtle rebuttal
Breaking off for a huddle
Going to the moon and love is the shuttle
So what they got missiles
We got muthafucking cuddle puddles
And pour them on the rocks
Drink them slickly down
Strictly now
As long as youre part of the crowd
It’s all youre alowd
It’s all youre alowd
It’s all youre alowd

CHORUS

Invincible in principle
But not sensible
Even though its common, since
What I’m saying’s like hippies at a festival
I’m fucking in tents
What im bringing is immense 
Robbing this pen and pad of its innocence 
And I commence to condense 
This coincidence
That Im driving and rhyming
Causing lots of accidents
Climax suspense
Reaching in your mental pocket 
Gonna tax your sense
And using evidence 
Until itsself evident
That Im the only one given the consent
To present the prominent extent 
Of this predominant event
Its imminent I mean,
I mean that Im an ominous
Anonymous
Bottomless novelist 
Synonymous to something sicker than the dead
Living in necropolis

Damn straight it’s preposterous 
Damn straight it’s preposterous 
Damn straight it’s preposterous 


<a href="https://theartistunion.com/tracks/3c06f7" rel="nofollow">Download for free on The Artist Union</a>

Free Download

07 lotus

MF [prod. ninjoi]

VINYL + DIGITAL: http://bit.ly/2glCXOc

*Two new songs from Opio of Souls of Mischief / Hieroglyphics - three versions each so that's six tracks total, all produced by Dakim. The other song "Wounded Healer" features Homeboy Sandman (and Terence McKenna).
*Mixed and mastered w. Matthewdavid at Stones Throw Studios.
*ltd vinyl edition of 500 copies
*digital release includes "Mountain Sage" and "Galvanometer 2nd" instrumentals
*cover art: Felix Jackson Jr.

LTD VINYL

Opio - Galvanometer 2nd

No one confronts the abyss better than Chris Orrick. The Michigan ex-factory worker formerly known as Red Pill has spent the last half-decade documenting industrial decay, familial pain, and struggles with addiction better than almost anyone inhabiting this poisoned soil. It’s somewhere between Charles Bukowski and Michael Moore, or maybe Atmosphere if he couldn’t ignore the arsenic in the air. 

As Orrick tells it, “Portraits,” his latest album for Mello Music Group is a return to form. 

“I tried to strip everything down to what I think I'm best at: simple, concise portraits of who I am,” Orrick says. “Whether that be finding myself through self-portraits, portraits of everyday workers, portraits of the current political moment or portraits of myself told through the eyes of people I encounter daily.” 

From the corroded arteries of the blue-collar heartland, Orrick emerges as one of the most incisive and savage critics of Trump’s America. If the American dream is dead, he unflinchingly lays the blame on avaricious corporations, crude demagogues, and structural racism. There’s nothing polemical about it: just warm-hearted, sad-eyed, gin-flooded depictions of a life where there are few right answers but a litany of wrong ones. 

The Michigan native is an acerbic poet, but too unpretentious and sarcastic to ever call himself that. In his love letter to his long-time girlfriend (“Lazy Buddies”), Orrick fantasizes about the pair decamping to a town an hour outside of Paris, where they can blissfully split a bottle of cheap wine. Then he mocks himself for being a little corny. But that’s part of its charm—through his ruthless honesty, we can see ourselves as we actually are—prone to idle delusions, indolence, and self-obsessed. 

“Portraits can often be overlooked, but there are so many details in the face that tell innumerable stories about what the person portrayed might have been feeling or going through,” Orrick continues. “I'm trying to find those details, within myself and within America today." 

On “Anywhere Instead,” he grouses about how most days he doesn’t want to leave his bed until noon, staring at his phone, wishing for imminent death. It’s a nothing matters, gallows humor that anoints him a laureate of existential dread. He captures the terror of the void, the ambiguity of not knowing where or when your next direct deposit will hit. He’s wise enough to understand how little he understands, allergic to cheap irony or forced symbolism. As he points out on stories, “not every story has a meaning, not every moment has a reason, sometimes you just let the music play and tell you what to say.” 

It’s obvious how loudly the music speaks to Orrick, who is rarely short of opinions or serrated observation. The somber piano-based melancholy and rugged drums of “Portraits” thump via a gifted arsenal of producers including Nolan the Ninja, L’Orange, Exile, Apollo Brown, and Onra. Only two guest rappers appear, Fashawn and Orrick’s partner in Ugly Heroes, Verbal Kent. Orrick carries the rest of the weight and you sense the Atlas burden he shoulders. 

But for the all the poignant complaints, there’s a soulful profundity at the core of the album. It goes further than stress over bills, nicotine and liquor compulsions, and a search for deeper revelation. If you can hear a song like “Mom” without slightly crumbling, you might be iron-born. It’s a eulogy for Orrick’s late mother, dead at 45 without seeing her children grow up, without the opportunity to take pride in her son’s ability to realize his dream—however flawed it can occasionally seem. It’s here where you sense the power of these Portraits. They capture the pain that too many of us feel, that manifests itself in so many distinct ways. For a little while, we understand the raw f&cked up complexity of what it means to be a human being in a lunatic world. The portrait is personal, but it’s all of us too. 
credits

Portraits Mp3

The Rubric

Chris Orrick - The Rubric (feat. Verbal Kent) (prod. Calvin Valentine)

::: GOODBOiS RADNOiSE SERVES YOU ::: 

dj https://soundcloud.com/roughmix from augsburg/germany mixed up a dope beat by german up and coming producer https://soundcloud.com/figubbrazlevic with the "hell on earth" acappella, put some decent scratches on the hook and let us the fine pleasure to serve you these goods ... 

like dj roughmix here:
www.facebook.com/djroughmix

your enjoyment, our pleasure . 


as the mobb would say - keep it thorough !

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THE DOWNLOAD LINK 

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SERVES YOU: hell on earth [dj roughmix edit]

GOODBOIS