I have a ritual I like to do every time I come down with a bad cold or flu. I curl up on the couch with a blanket, fluids, and a couple kitties, and watch the original George A. Romero trilogy of classic zombie films. In chronological order, they are Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and Day of the Dead.
I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to them, and especially when I feel ill. They just make me happy. There’s a certain kind of calm I get from those films, from the acceptance that the shit hit the fan and you’ve just got to deal with worldwide catastrophe. The time to hesitate is through, and your purpose is clear. For any chance of survival, you’ve got to go into action and constantly be on guard. They are a relief, in a world where people are still arguing that global warming either isn’t happening or isn’t urgent, where people would rather gossip about Obama than attempt to help him.
Zombies are a lot of things to a lot of people. At once mystical and tragic, there is just something about them that transcends the horror film and video game genres. Their legend lends itself as easily to social commentary as comedy. They embody our worst fears and darkest humor, part apocalypse and part slapstick. I hope this mixtape taps into those juxtapositions, to present somnambulists in as much a purely entertaining way as terrifying and intriguing. As Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead showed, the apocalypse can come with a few laughs.
How we see things is affected by how we say things. This mix is a reflection on formerly prominent methods and modes of communication, such as the typewriter, cassette tape, and radio. Enjoy your cultural evolution.
Through dedication to their scene and aesthetic, Bay area label Muti Music is on the brink of greatness. Unwavering commitment to their form is demonstrated by the dependable quality of their consistent releases. Dig it.
The holidays are full of dreadful music being pumped from every speaker in every commercial business. May the latest from Soundscape provide you with a pleasant respite of solace, a bit of shelter from all the pop star vanity and pseudo-comedic novelty albums that attempt to penetrate your earholes from every angle.