lofi.hiphop [ 003 ]
In the infamous word of The Mighty Boosh, "It's time to go on a journey through time and space."
lofi.hiphop's third mixtape is a brain churning scan of the climate; a thirty minute sirocco whose meandering will transport you across the continents. Begin on a Sunday morning, sleep crusted eyes and the flicker of the TV screen. Familiar voices of the day of rest filtering into your conscious, announcing your arrival at the end of the week.
Then, with Faust - knuckles, enter a sweltering hashish drenched Parisian apartment, your mind melting like Dali’s. Lose all sense of time, because tomorrow there are more important things to do. Today is just for you.
Take a walk with the RZA through downtown, watch the suited Christians strolling from church to coffee shop. See dark hands running along the crystals of chandeliers; feel the onset of cardiac arrhythmia and let your feet take over.
Slink your way to a Chinese opium den listening to Biggie smalls, a couple of Tibetan monks chatting to you about the state of the hiphop in 2016. Some distorted funfair somewhere in America’s midwest, the horizon's distant mountains sandwiched between albino sands and swirling skies.
Suddenly you're in Morocco. A dusty back street cafe, the stage built for her in red with tambourines in her eyes and bells on her ankles. The inside of a crystal ball, goldfish bowl, coffee cup, heroin syringe. Veins overwhelmed by caffeine and memories from your 13th birthday.
It all feels so familiar, so unfamiliar. A dip in the blackened backwaters where your dreams and nightmares are born. Emerge unchanged but different, and then press repeat.