GRIPPERS NOTHER ONESERS ——- (AT SLIMER BEACH) from OESB // FUTURE SOUND on Vimeo.
I started feeling it coming on this past Saturday, at a holiday party in Bushwick. We were standing around blinking through a brown haze of Kennedy Fried Chicken grease and the evaporated alcohol of every single spirit ever distilled by man, laced with enough cardamom and cinnamon fumes to suggest that someone had gone ahead beforehand and rubbed down the entire apartment with a stick of Old Spice. We all agreed that the cloud, which got thicker and heavier as the night wore on, was supposed to be the cloud of brotherly love and holiday good cheer. But the room was too empty for that to really feel like the case, and if we stared through the mist hard enough we could see that what the host really wanted us to be looking at was a wall projection of zombies mangling each other in a Bavarian winter wonderland, the sight of magenta melting through snow, color-coordinated to match all the Gluwein …
The rust-colored anxiety stayed with me though, it followed me out of the party and into the subway, back to my house and into my bedroom, where it hid under my bed as I slept. Two days later, it was gathering up by the ceiling in smoke rings, multiplying hour by hour like a kombucha culture. A friend of mine called me to tell me about this crazy experience he had had, driving through South Carolina the day before. He and his friend were driving along back roads looking for the sea, but the GPS somehow landed them at the end of an unmarked dirt path, 100 miles away from the ocean, staring at a little kid in a Knicks jacket taking shots at a basketball hoop at the edge of an abandoned graveyard. The smoke had completely filled my room by the time I hung up the phone–I think this was last night–and I have had to close my door to keep it from spreading into the rest of the apartment. Opening the windows has helped some, but the feeling of combined dread and familiarity is still thick enough to cut through with a knife. Looking back, I think it was my subconscious telling me that this video, made public at 3:55am this morning, was going to drop.
Words: Emilie Friedlander
A medley of tracks from Olde English Spelling Bee’s new Gripper Nother Onesers (At Slimer Beach) release, a reissue of Lambourghini Crystal’s 1992 Cool Runnings Holiday, released in 2006 on New Age Tapes and dedicated to Richard Ramirez.
A preview from the artist himself: ”Aside from the heavy Richard Ramirez zone I wanted the record to have the feeling of when you find a half empty bottle of anti-psychotics and just see the name of the owner and you wonder where that person is now” – PTC
Tags: 1992 Cool Runnings Holiday, Grippers Nother Onesers (At Slimber Beach), Lambourghini Crystal, New Age Tapes, Olde English Spelling Bee