Саша Скул-Кайфую

Once upon a time meant listen carefully, because the world has teeth. Before Disney. Before the cartoon. Before someone decided children couldn't handle the truth about the stories that were written to teach children what the truth looks like.

Once Upon a Time is an 18-track dark fantasy trap concept album that tells the original versions of fairy tales — the ones with the blood still in them. The Little Mermaid doesn't get the prince. She gets sea foam. Cinderella's stepsisters cut off their own toes to fit the slipper, and the birds peck out their eyes at the wedding. Sleeping Beauty isn't woken by a kiss. The children follow the Pied Piper into a mountain and never come back. A boy is murdered by his stepmother, cooked into a stew, and fed to his own father. A girl's hands are chopped off by her father to escape a deal with the devil. And the shoes — the red shoes — keep dancing long after the feet have been removed.

The music fuses fairy tale instrumentation — music boxes, harps, flutes, chimes, spinning wheel drones — with heavy trap production: deep 808s, hard drums, bass that vibrates like something underneath the forest floor. Every track sounds like a lullaby that remembered what it was actually about.

These stories were warnings, not entertainment. Told by firelight to children who needed to know what an oven looks like before the witch offers candy. What a wolf sounds like before the wolf offers directions. What a father's love looks like when it starts looking wrong. The forest is still there. The forest is still hungry. And happily ever after was always a door painted on a wall that children run toward and adults know doesn't open.

Once upon a time. And not all of them come back.


The Pied Piper

Саша Скул x prod.Lucky- Экзистенциальная Россия (п.у. Макулатура)

"За оградой, на опушке монастырского леса, низкий грудной голос Феофана гремел над толпой, как гром: — Мы — в черном огню!.. В язвах!.. Во тяготе!.. Коли не хочете тяготы, чего ж вам от нас нужно, ей, спасенные?.. А?. — Засть, злыдня проклятая!.. — фордыбачила в толпе какая-то старуха богомолка:- Убирайтесь отсюда, песьи ваши головы!.. А то решу вас, псов!.. Злыдота так и покатилась со смеху, услышав старуху. А Феофан заязвил:и— Ага!.. Вы — спасенные!.. Эх, кабы признались, што вы — жулики, воры, то-то любо б было!.. То-то верно б!.. Град обрели бы, кабы тяготу взяли б!.. Хочешь, — повернул Феофан свое лицо с жуткими, разбрасывающими черно-багровые зарницы глазами к Крутогорову:- Хочешь, прими. Ведь ты мне родной… а?"
ОТБЛАГОДАРИТЬ РУБЛЕМ, КАРТА СБЕРБАНК: 4276 3800 8305 1685

08. Саша Скул - Моя Королева

04. Саша Скул - Давай Поделим (п.у. Horus X Луперкаль)

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