The Publics

Even though I really enjoyed Night Rippers, I was fully prepared to hate on the new Girl Talk album for irrational reasons that I won’t get into. And when I first downloaded it, for free, because I deemed myself part of the press, radio, or music industry, I did indeed hate on it. Last week over a casual pint of that gaseous, filthy-cheap Café Crêpe lager, I said to a friend:

“Ah…its more of the same shite, it’s ok, but nothing new, wholly derivative hipster nonsense, fucking typically mediocre shite, not bad, but you know, shite, I’m just listening to it because I’m biding my time waiting for a trip-hop renaissance.”

But then, much like a fungus, it grew on me. And the more I listen to Feed The Animals, the more it starts to feel less like a collection of successive money-shot pop crescendos and more like a pornographic trap-pop symphony.

Girl Talk: Hands in the Air