Menu Close

Month: August 2011 (page 2 of 5)

ANBRx Pharamceuticals II

This might be one of the most perfect slices of electrogrind insanity I’ve heard in a while and I feel compelled to share it with you knowing full well that basically everyone who listens to it will hate it. But if I reach even one person who understands the genius of this, I will have accomplished something wonderful for the future of humanity.

Below is Agoraphobic Nosebleed’s Pharmaceuticals II, presented under the moniker ANBRx which they use when the music is of a more electronic nature. Typically, Agoraphobic Nosebleed sounds like grind made with drum machines, whereas ANBRx sounds like electronic music made into grind. Does that make sense? To me it does, so that’s ok. Listen and be afaid:

Did you listen on shitty speakers? Bullshit. Do it again on a good set of speakers and get back to me.

If for whatever reason that iframe above is behaving badly, you can listen to and download the record free here: ANBRx Pharmaceuticals II.


Yung Humma’s “Lemme Smang It” and others

I can’t tell if this is some elaborate joke or if these guys are serious. Just watching the video seems to point toward it being a joke. But then you go check out their Youtube channel and their website and their Twitter and it starts to get weird.

For example, take “Lemme Smang It”. This video is so patently retarded it can’t possibly be anything but parody. Everything is bad about it. So bad, in fact, that I thought it was deliberate, that they were making a joke. How could anyone look at this video and think, “Man, we are making some tremendous art here. The world will shudder when our magnum opus, ‘Lemme Smang It,’ is unleashed.” They didn’t. They couldn’t have. I just refuse to believe it.

Everything about the production screams “joke.” The zooms, the shitty composites, standard definition, the dancing, the fake beard, the titles, the faces they’re making. Christ, I’m still not convinced it’s not a joke.

And then you have “Fried or Fertilized”.

Again, same thing. So bad it MUST be a joke.

And then there’s “Happy Sexgiving” (Really.)

And “Can He Move It Like This”.

And finally, the real icing on this confusing cake, “Go Grab My Belt”.

Ok ok ok. Stop. Of course, all of this is a complete joke right? It has to be! It’s even a good joke. I am laughing! Ha! Ha! Ha….? Because then I watched this:

My faith in the sureness of the joke has been shaken. This guy is not joking. Not joking at all. He’s 100% dead serious about the music they’re making at Turquoise Jeep.

Holy living fuck.

Go over to their Youtube page and watch some more of these things and then tell me that they aren’t, in some perverse oddball way, totally serious about this stuff. Clearly, they’re having fun doing this, but they are also definitely taking it seriously. It makes me nervous.

“MAAAAAAAAAANNNN, I love those stretchy pants.”

R. Kelly’s “Ignition”

Because why the fuck not. I am convinced that R. Kelly is one of the most insane people in all of music right now. Seriously. The dude is batshit insane. I know I’ve yet to begin my series about Trapped in the Closet, but you have to believe me. R. Kelly is CRAZY. Go ahead. Watch “Real Talk” and tell me he’s well balanced. Go on now.

Now, go listen to the lyrics of “Sex in the Kitchen”. I’ll be patient. A particular quotation I like: “Y’all gotta read between the lines. Crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch. Munch munch munch munch munch.”


And I think he’s great.

This video isn’t all that high on the general “My name is Robert” Craziness Scale™, but the hints are there. Listen to the lyrics for some classic R. Kelly nonsense. Great.

One of these days I’ll get around to my analysis of Trapped In The Closet, chapter by chapter, here on The Black Laser for you all to enjoy.

On the Advice of Torgeir, The Black Metal Extremist II


I work for a media company. We’re quite busy lately, and I would like to send our interns, who are unpaid college students, on the occasional coffee run, but it seems wrong somehow. I know they wouldn’t be learning anything, but isn’t it better for the company to have an unpaid intern and not a paid employee do this?

If I am correct in my assumptions, you work for some miserable nameless drone factory spreading the disease of capitalism across the world. You seek to poison minds with your Christian agenda. Though I do not support your doctrine of the light, let us examine your question from an intellectual standpoint, something I am sure you know nothing about.

First, if you are going to draft students into working as slave labor for you performing menial tasks, is it really so inappropriate to send them on other less educational menial tasks? Nonsense. Banality is banality. Whether they are filing a heart-crushing stack of paperwork or fetching coffee for you and your lazy officemates, what’s the difference? Both are a supreme waste of the students’ time. What could they possibly be learning from such nonsensical tasks as you have appointed them? Don’t waste the time of people you actually pay to be there on something as foolish as coffee runs. Use the slaves.

In the darkened days of college, I spent the longest winter of my life working as the intern at a local radio station here in Trondheim. I took the job primarily to steal blank cassettes on which to release my countless, brutal black metal projects and demos. Everyone know that cassette tapes are the ideal medium for distributing black metal demos. Only sell-outs would use CDs. And digital files? Worthless.

During my internship I was sent out for coffee many times, but did I ever feel like it was a waste of time? Of course I did. It was an enormous waste of time as are all internships. Therefore your interns are wasting their time by just being there, so if you waste their time in turn by sending them for coffee nothing is lost.

You know what, maybe you should all—paid and unpaid—go on coffee runs all day. Then your pathetic propagandist media empire would crumble into dust as is the fate of all humanity. I beseech the wolves of the new moon to feast upon your bones.

Hang yourself.

Soundtrack: Darkthrone’s “Transylvanian Hunger”

Also posted at:

Devendra Banhart’s “Foolin'”

I’m just going to leave this here and let you do with it what you will. Possibly not safe for work if you work in a boring place.

Thanks, Nina!!!

Chromeo’s “Night Falls”

Oh, Chromeo, will I ever get tired of your inventive, slick, hilarious music videos? Probably not. Getting chicks explosively pregnant? The only other person I’ve seen pull that trick is my dad. HEEYYYOOOOOO.

Anyways, this video rules and you should watch it. Why do I even say that? Of course it rules. That’s why it’s here. If it was bad, I would let you know. Otherwise, from here on out, let’s just assume that the video is going to be awesome if you see it here on The Black Laser.

I’m not feeling particularly clever right now. My head hurts. Watch the thingie.

Skrillex’s “First of the Year (Equinox)”

Look, Mr. Rapist, we all know that you only wanted to ask her if the rag smelled like chloroform, but you picked the wrong psychic demon girl to try and force yourself upon. Now, you’ll never force yourself on anyone again.

Obviously inspired by Chris Cunningham’s “Come to Daddy” video, this video is one of the slickest pieces I’ve seen in a while (forgiving the dodgy demon CG at points). Certainly, when I think of Dubstep (Brostep, really), these sorts of visuals are what comes to mind: wet, cityscapes, green, darkness, grit. It’s a point I’ve discussed before.

I hope Skrillex gets the opportunity to make more videos like this. It is really, really cool.

Get Drunk Tonight – TBD

TBD – Greenpoint, Brooklyn (Franklin & Green St)

Suppose that it is a nice day outside and you think to yourself, “What would be better right now than ruining the rest of my day by getting way too drunk after forgetting to eat anything? Oh, right. Nothing. Where to do my day drinking?!” And then you start to think of different places you might want to go have a drink or 17. Berry Park is full of shit heads. Nope. Radegast is terminally full. Nope. Ditto for Spitzenhaus. Nope. Loreley in Williamsburg is stuck under the freeway and the service sucks. Nope. Loreley in Manhattan is ok but tiny and gets packed. Nope. Züm Schneiders only has seating on the street which is not my favorite thing. Nope. The Bohemian Beer Garden is a bear to get to. Nope. Beer Island is great, but Coney Island is similarly hard to get to. Nope.

Where is a man with the desire to ruin his day supposed to go? The answer is TBD. Oh, how I love TBD on a perfect afternoon. The first drunken Sunday at TBD of the year is the sign that winter has broken and warmer days are ahead. This year it happened in April. I look forward to it.

Saddled with an unfortunate name and an even more unfortunate interior, one quick glance in the door at TBD and you might think, “No way, Get Drunk Tonight, you’re full of shit.” But trust me here. Go inside. And then go all the way to the back past the ping pong table, past the shitty furniture, past the bathrooms, and out in the glorious backyard fill with umbrellad picnic tables. It is a magical wonderland of empty tables and quiet and sunshine. It’s one of my favorite places to while away an afternoon with a couple good friends, my credit card at the bar, and a plan to be asleep at my house by 10pm.

TBD always has a good selection of interesting beers, usually one per variety so your palate will be tickled. They also have a grill in the back which is good, but can take quite a long time which is not a problem, of course, if you’re settling in to spend the next 6 hours assaulting your liver with foamy beer sodas. It’s a little out of the way for Manhattanites, but right near the Greenpoint G for those of you who live in real places. It’s never so packed you can’t find a table. The crowd is relaxed and diverse. TBD is just a great place to get your drink on. Just don’t go during the winter. The inside is the worst.

Also posted at: