Tabs Out

New Batch – Paralaxe Editions
3.18.15 by Mike Haley

I’m assuming you’re familiar with how to use an elevator, or a “lifty-loo” if ya speak the Queen’s English. All the buttons with numbers designate a floor in the building. There are “open” and “close” buttons that (sometimes) open and close the doors. Emergency Stop, Alarm, etc, etc… All pretty much self-explanatory. Now, if you see a button that is shaped like a 3D brain, with an X over three lines… Well, that’s the Paralaxe Editions button. Push the fuck out of that one, because it’s gonna take you to a real chill spot. And bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush, because once you make the acquaintance of these cassettes by Ondness and Takahiro Mukai, you’ll be wanting to stay for a bit.

The first thing you’ll notice will be the luxury-look of these fine specimens. Barcelona’s Paralaxe Editions did things up right with thick card stock jcards that are letterpressed and have little extra panels of art affixed to the front. The design is gorgeous, super clean, and subtly textural. Man, I wanna rub em a bit, but I just ate a panini and don’t wanna grease things up. Perhaps after nice shower…

“Them Corja” by Ondness (who’s minty green shell and orange leader tape look fucking baller as heck, but I don’t wanna get tooooooo tape-nerdy, so I wont mention that) patrols like a colony of robotic ants. Bruno Silva’s work is very coordinated and calming. Tons of metallic patterns and ticks that shift in hypnotizing styles. Crumbs come in / crumbs go out. The work keeps pushing forward in delicate control, except for when massive rain drops throw things into a scattered muddle, or a rouge magnifying glass sparks the workers into flames. Silva manages to bring order back to the squad, shaping new placid pathways in the mud over 40 minutes of this way calm listen. Limited to 60 copies.

I was introduced to Takahiro Mukai by the excellent “1409-1” tape on Phinery, which I loved, so I went into “SomosanSeppa” preparing to be pleased. Spoiler alert: I was. Mukai’s raid of sounds are vibrant, oddly dance-able at times, and loaded with attack. Plops and thuds are dropped like wee-petite slime bombs on a secluded village. Residents there seem pretty cool with the oozy barrage, though. I think they get high off the slime and jam tribal rhythms while it’s going on. Win/win if you ask me. This C30 with a red shell is also an edition of 60 copies.

Don’t be a loser, be a user. Scoop up both of these awesome tapes from Paralaxe Editions now. And keep a close eye on their actions, because they are sure to be savage.

Euglossine – Complex Playground
3.16.15 by Mike Haley

I don’t know if you’ve ever shoe shopped for a child before, but it’s a borderline bonkers experience. All the foot gear in the store glows and/or flashes lights and/or sparkles in the most unnatural sparkly way possible. And they are so small, which I guess makes sense considering they are for small children with small feet, but it’s still weird seeing them. It’s like being in a regular shoe store on mushrooms. The socks are pretty normal though…

Now, I’m fully aware all those shoes were most likely made by small children with small feet in bummer conditions, so montage footage of the factory would probably pair best with some Sarah McLachlan downer vibes. But let’s pretend for a moment that the Earth was home to decent, non-awful beings. In that second-life scenario Euglossine would be blaring over the footwear assembly video while blithesome adults toted pouches of brightly colored LEDs, flickering off the power of joy, across the checkered-floored work areas. Assembly lines would be so jubilant they would make the chocolate scene from I Love Lucy look like a Dancer In The Dark sequel.

If sophisticatedly-wacky is a genre, Euglossine nails it. The futurecho’d blazed blips and lounge tinged condensation is repped hard by Tristan Whitehill on “Complex Playground”. He squirts candied zaps on these here tracks that boing about randomly, all fleshy and hypercolored. A randomness fastened together by a sea of Sega inspired jazz fusion rips. Whitehill manages to create something that shouldn’t make any sense, but makes so much. And he does it with casual composure. Because while you want those multineon kid shoes to beam and glisten, they also gotta fit snug and have one left and one right. Whitehill’s got the feet measured properly, EyeBodega fucking kiiiiilled the design, and Beer On The Rug is prepared to bring it all your way. You can preorder this C34 here. It will be limited to 100 copies. Try it on for size below.