We got the EN-ER-GEE! CRISIS BLUES!

Stephen Malkmus once satirized the image-obsessed world of popular music in the classic "Cut Your Hair." Cool people will immediately recall the lyrics

"I don't remember a line,
I don't remember a word
But I don't care, I don't care
I really don't care
Did you see the drummer's hair?"

It's a basic fact of pop music--appearance matters. Sure, you have a few Shane McGowans, but they're exceptions. How often have you heard someone mention how attractive a musician is? Does it matter? No, but often attractiveness can play a major part in a band's success. And also, pop music has entirely too little Dada! Funnily enough, the Residents fix both problems.

Not only do the Residents bypass the problem of appearance by never revealing their faces, they buck pretty much every other "rule" of pop music. The Residents Mythos is one of the most interesting and famous in modern music history, and comes close to overshadowing the skewered brilliance of the music itself, so I'm not going to dwell on it very much. If you want to know more google them or something. They remain anonymous after four decades, always changing their approach to creating unique, strange, avant-garde music. A lot of their stuff is bad. This is to be expected from a constantly experimenting band that put out 60 records in fewer than 40 years. Other records, however, are perverted genius nonpareil in modern art.

The Residents, it should be warned, are notoriously difficult to listen to for a first timer familiar with normal pop song structures and non-extremely nasally singing. Often described (by me) as "a trip into the mind of a crazy person," a great Residents song will simultaneously thrill and terrify. Although they have slid into predictability and irrelevance in recent years (SO SAD SO SAD FOR REAL) The Residents are the most groundbreaking group of the 20th century bar none I SHALL NOT BE MOVED

The Residents shit in the face of popular music. When they formed they had little to no musical talent, but yo, fuck that, criminology rap, speakers stay jet black. That ain't stopping the motherfucking RESIDENTS. They were one of the first group to embrace electronic instruments, a case can be made that they invented mashups (YOU'RE WELCOME GIRL TALK) Here is a cover that they did of Hank Williams' Kaw-Liga with the bassline to Billie Jean in the background. THEIR CATCHIEST SONG!!!!

The Residents' first album, Meet the Residents is described by the band (if you even call the Residents a band) as their "worst foot forward." They couldn't play anything and had little budget, and still came up with a piece of demented genius. The masterwork of the album is the terrifying "N-Er-Gee (Crisis Blues)," opening with crazed banging on a piano and singing not unlike that of a murderous idiot man-child. The voice begins singing along with "The Land of 1,000 Dances," only for the song to loop the line "BOOG-ALOO!" again and again, turning it into some kind of strange ritual chant, slowly building noise and chaos over it. HOLY FUCK! IT IS SO COOL! Following a strange instrumental passage, the music turns to short rhythmic blasts and back comes the murderous idiot man-child! He begins chanting, softly at first, that immortal montra "WE GOT THE EN-ER-GEE! CRISIS BLUES!" It gets louder and louder, more and more fucked and disturbing, until OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS FUCKING INSANE FFFFFUFUFUFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK and then there's some stuff and it ends.

Good song.

Then there's Duck Stab and Buster and Glen, The Residents albums most resembling normal rock. There's some of their best stuff there, with lots of contributions from Snakefinger, the actual skilled musician the Residents roped in to help make their ideas musical reality. Upon recieving LIMITED COMMERCIAL ACCEPTANCE the horrified Residents made a sharp about-face and made Eskimo, perhaps the only readily available album completely without African musical roots. There is no rhythm, no discernable melody, weird non-words (all spoken while inhaling to make them sound more fucked up), and yet somehow it is their most compelling album. Ostensibly a musical "movie" of Eskimo culture, (which the Residents admit they fabricated most of when the real stuff got "too boring") it is an album of music completely unknown to the modern ear. When H.P. Lovecraft uses his cop-out descriptions and says that a sound was so alien that earthly language lacked the ability to describe it, he was talking about Eskimo. It is a great idea executed perfectly. It sounds too strange to be enjoyable, I know, but my god is it a revelation. It is also the first appearance of the tuxedo/eyeball-head look, possibly the coolest visual image of a band ever. It was a mixed blessing, though--nothing could top it, so they stuck with it, and the faceless band got a face. It would take time for them to totally get boring but still, sad.

Other fucking awesome records include The Third Reich and Roll, possibly the birth of the mashup, which is a pastiche of dumb 60s pop hit run through the meat grinder of the Resident's minds and coming out all weird and fascinating. The Commercial Album is 40 "pop" songs, each one minute long. The idea is that a pop song is just a verse and chorus repeated 3 times to make 3 minutes, so why not cut the bullshit and play the verse and chorus once each in one minute? Whatever, guys, but still there's some good songs here. A lot of filler, too, and it's best not to sit through the whole thing at once. God in Three Persons was the genesis of their "storytelling" mode, one which they have been stuck in for the past few years (and it's become rather annoying), but none of their story stuff comes close to topping this. Set to surprisingly well-composed music, it's a first-person story about a weird guy who meets weird Siamese twins who are weird (but cooler). And it rhymes, and it's cool. Way better than the annoying shit they have out today (although I liked The Bunny Boy tour). Not Available is pretty badass too.

Well enough talk. You came here to get music. If you want some other stuff (I have some rare shit like Smell My Picture and Postcards from Patmos, some bad recent storytelling albums, and also Animal Lover which has the song "My Window" which is STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL) just lemme know.

Duck Stab/Buster and Glen
http://www.mediafire.com/?zzmjd1yzjm0

Eskimo
http://www.mediafire.com/?5wdiyyzj4wg

God in Three Persons
http://www.mediafire.com/?kzng3tgmtzn

Not Available
http://www.mediafire.com/?yhmzc3drwtz

The Commercial Album
http://www.mediafire.com/?zm4yktezjmt

Meet the Residents
http://www.mediafire.com/?tyyjmljjo3o

The Third Reich and Roll
http://www.mediafire.com/?ttlgmmljmnm

A Monarch only minus the A&R

Much like the unfathomable beast Cthulhu, I have been roused from my long slumber to unleash my unstoppable power upon the weak, inconsequential race that seems to view themselves as rulers of this world. Unlike Cthulhu, however, I spread blog posts and free music rather than untold destruction and the devouring of souls.

So I was thinking recently what I could do to make this blog stand out and be extra-cool. I mean, if I post a Fugazi album or something, it wouldn't do much to help robot cake to distinguish itself. Everyone listens to Fugazi. What am I to do (don't actually give suggestions, I already came up with an answer)? I'm going to post albums notorious for being difficult to find! Regular readers of robot cake (most of whom I can probably call by name) will remember I've done this with Scream, Dracula, Scream! and Music for a New Society. Today, I will be focusing on an ill-fated release by a rapper who is a serious contender for the greatest of all time, PHAROAHE MONCH.



INTERNAL AFFAIRS was Monch's solo debut after three critically-acclaimed but low-selling records with the group Organized Konfusion. Headlined by the catchy, undeniably badass, and wildly popular single "Simon Says," Internal Affairs shot up the charts, just missing the top 40, and sold hundreds of thousands of copies. Monch's unparalleled flow, vivid imagery, and complex rhymes were finally being appreciated by the general public. Things were going great for the Pharoahe.

However, the four ascending synthesizer blasts that were the backbone of "Simon Says" were illegally sampled from the Godzilla theme song. Toho, the company that owns Godzilla, didn't take too kindly to this, and production of the album stopped and has not resumed to this day. And Pharoahe's career was fucked.

It took eight years for Pharoahe to release his next album (the pretty great Desire, which has yet to sell over 20,000 copies), once stooping so low as to *shudder* ghostwrite raps for (ugh!) P. Diddy. God damn you, Japan, why did you do this to one of the greatest rappers ever to hold the microphone (possibly like a grudge)?

Luckily for you, the album is here for all of you to enjoy. How is it? Well, despite Monch's impassioned declarations of "Y'all know the name/ Pharoahe fuckin' Monch, not a damn thing changed," it was evident (even in just the preceding line) that something had changed. Organized Konfusion was in many ways a typical "underground" group, usually eschewing profanity, thuggery and negativity. Pharoahe here is an angry, cursing, dangerous motherfucker. When he says "get the fuck up," you best get the fuck up. When he says "girls, rub on your titties," you ladies should act accordingly. And guys, too, just to be safe, Pharoahe sounds pissed.

Now I can almost hear you hipster douchebags saying "Why, I never! Negro music with violent and sexist content! Why, that offends my delicate sensibilities! I could never listen to such vulgarity!" Well, I actually kind of agree with you--there's a lot of themes that don't sit well coming from someone like Monch. The track "Rape" is classic Pharoahe in the sense that it uses a well-developed extended metaphor and masterful wordplay. But comparing his rapping skill with rape is just a bit over the line. Still, it's nothing horrible, just a little off-putting, nothing worse than a lot of hardcore rap. It's pretty obvious he jammed in these themes so the record would sell better (and it worked). I mean, Pharoahe Monch as a thug? I'm not really buying that.

Despite these reservations, it's still a fucking classic. Why? Because it's Pharoahe Monch, like I said, one of the greatest of all time. He's got the best flow I've ever heard (he makes Rakim sound like a child), and he can write rhymes like nobody's business. After all, Pharoahe only appears on five full length albums, each one is a fucking treasure to be loved for all time. Some might accuse Monch of compromising to sell better, but he sure as hell didn't sell out.

Here is Internal Affairs:
http://www.mediafire.com/?uegjz04c0yx

And just because I'm an awesome guy, here's his recent album, Desire, which is much less thuggy and more in line with the rest of Pharoahe's work, and Organized Konfusion's self titled debut (Releasing Hypnotical Gases would be mindblowingly ahead of its time even if it were released today):
http://www.mediafire.com/?dk2yrxqhazv (Desire)
http://www.mediafire.com/?tm3zimohly2 (Organized Konfusion)

So you feel like shinin', and you feel like lettin' loose

It's Halloween! Well, it's technically past midnight but who's counting? I trust your costumes have frightened away daemons and ghouls come to steal you away to the shadow realm! But you might have been thinking, "what music is appropriately scary for such an occasion? Why, all of my music is twee pop and freak-folk! Surely Devendra Banhart can scare away demons, but he will also scare away all of my friends and make them not my friends anymore. Surely some demigods, some triumphs of men, have wrought with their glorious minds that which I seek!"

Oh, guess what, they have. FOR YOU PEOPLE I give a great album, an album filled with bloodcurlding tales of horror and the macabre. I give you an album of suicides, madmen, murder, constant elevation, and no fewer than two full cups of human blood. OH YES I SAID IT

That album, good folks, is the classic 6 Feet Deep by the Gravediggaz.

Gravediggaz was a supergroup featuring great rappers such as Too Poetic, Frukwan (of Stetsasonic) and the motherfucking RZA (if you need to be told what group RZA is a member of, you best get the fuck out and educate yourself). As if that weren't enough, the album is produced by none other than hip-hop superman Prince Paul, who you hipster douchebags might remember for producing your precious 3 Feet High and Rising.

Gravediggaz was one of the first horrorcore groups, "horrorcore" meaning it contained ridiculously unrealistic, cartoonish descriptions of violence. It's so over-the-top I'd almost venture to call it a comedy album, and it will likely make you laugh at least once. This is what separates Gravediggaz from shit like ICP. ICP is ridiculous and way too into itself and is terrible. Gravediggaz know how stupid and cartoonish their personas are and use that as a strong point.

Frukwan acts (aesthetically, at least) as the straight man of the record, with a fairly standard, smooth flow. Too Poetic recalls Ol' Dirty Bastard with his lilting, tremulous delivery and gives maybe the album's most memorable verse on the standout "1-800 Suicide"

"Hey ya little rich kid, what's your beef?
Come and tell the Grim Reaper all of your grief
You ask for a Benz and you only got a Jeep
Your pop's got ins, but yo, he's mad cheap
Maybe you're a bastard child, you think
Mom and Dad are white and you're dark as ink
Maybe you're Sicilian, with a tan
But you hate lasagna and the pizza man
Now you stand on the Gravedigga lot, and
you're singing the blues about the rough life you got (not)
You don't wanna live no more
I guess you're really ready for the graveyard tour
When you get home, just seal up your windows and your doors
put the oven on high for about 4 hours
Light up a blunt, kiss your ass goodbye,
you gassed yourself, cause, it's a suicide"

And the RZA is just the RZA. He raps the only way he knows how--in his raspy staccato that always seems like it's about to lose the beat, but it never does (not on this album, anyway).

It's an experience, to be sure, unlike any album out there. There's nothing out there so hilariously gory and macabre, and nothing better suited for a funky Halloween. Break it out next year and all the cool kids will think you're one bad motherfucker.

http://www.mediafire.com/?ymm2mnyxkeh