Wednesday, July 30, 2008

string, kitten whiskers, raindrops

A couple of years ago, I wrote a small piece for the Times Union on hip hop in Jacksonville. In it, I covered three “acts,” the smallest and possibly the most atypical of the hip hop genre was Astronautalis, nee Andy Bothwell.

I wanted to write the article not just because I love hip hop, but because at the time, I was regularly checking out Hip Hop Hell (thanks Ian) and I was blown away by a few of the local and national acts that got booked (Louis Logic). It was there, one tipsy summer night, that I saw this skinny white kid in a blazer and tight jeans get up on stage and craft a pretty flawless freestyle of topics suggested by the crowd.

It was then that I knew the kid--and hopefully by extension the scene--had something viable and unquantifable. Since then, I learned that Astronautalis’s feat is not without precedent, but still, his music, his ability to transform and transcend the specifics of his chosen genre, are dazzling slight-of-hand tricks.

So, it’s with all that gushy loviness that I am super-stoked to say that he’s about to drop another album, Pomegranate, and for those that are curious as to the new sound, here’s his myspace link.

“Then there was me,
I was born a charming man with silver tongue and pearl teeth, this was never how it was supposed to end, we were promised all we dreamed. The envy of the everyman our family seemed complete, our father was a charming man, our mother a Siren. But, now I'm on the run again, this hotel's home to me, after they found the eldest's skeleton floating face down in the stream. The youngest was still tucked away in bed, they thought he was a sleep, till they moved the mirror from his mouth, and the fog that should remain was not to be seen.”

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