Melbourne tape rap duo Brothers Hand Mirror bring you their third EP today, this one titled Picture Tape EP, most likely a reference to the pictures that Grant produces and the tapes through which Oscar generates his beats. You see? There’s logic in the madness. Not a whole lot of logic within the tunes though. If you thought the last set was left of center then prepare your shock receptors (probably real) and assume your power stance cause this one ain’t for the conservative. You’d have to say that we’re pushing the boundaries of an EP by definition. Three tracks is almost a single but I’ll take it because on the whole it’s most excellent. The highlight is ‘We Don’t Hide’ which features an Oscar chorus (never a bad thing), a big rumbling round bass hit and a whole bunch of tones that wouldn’t be out of place on a FISHING record. You know what, it’s actually kind of reminiscent of beats from the original Oscar & Martin record, with the interchangeable flute/recorder/children’s toy situation repeating over the hits.

Here’s another 33% of the EP in ‘Twirl’ which I think is worth acquainting yourself with because it’ll set the ground arumbling when it comes to the live set. Plus, it also sees HTMLflowers experimenting with some new delivery around the 1:14 mark which comes off a treat. It is known. We’ve journeyed through two prior BTM EPs over the past few years (here and here) and I’m pretty glad to say that you and I are no longer alone in our affections. Brainfeeder offshoot label TAR will be putting out this triune gem.

I don’t know if it’s too early in the morning for a track like this but I’m defying convention and throwing traditional bloghaviour to the wind, let’s do this folks. Due warning though, you’re about to spend the next four minutes and forty four seconds tripping balls. The other day I was asked to add some tracks into a play list titled ‘Best Stoner Tracks’ and if I’d had the forethought to nominate this one right here I might have received some celebratory hi-fives for a bang on suggestion. Visually, it’s pretty Boosh-esque and headlines a series of foetal images and Captain Alfoil which in itself is reasonably interesting in tandem with the filters and overlays but it’s the tune atop it all that has been doing it for me. If you’re at all familiar with 70s glam-folk then you might recognise that this is a highly convoluted cover of T. Rex’s Cosmic Dancer which for me is a bloody good choice of songs to cover indeed. Ya boy Kirkis does it admirably too. Best choice for him, I think, because both his completely whacked out version and T. Rex’s original are sleeping on a glorious bassline though despite a new title, Kirkis’ version sounds slightly more Cosmic. Also, if I’m not mistaken those are the vocals of Lorelei who featured on his banger ‘The Soft Machine’ which I liked a whole bunch a few months back (and still like but that was when I, you know, started liking it). She’s no stranger to the BVs performing similar duties for Hiatus Kaiyote who just today announced that they’ve signed with Flying Buddah + and are hopping a jet to Europe so that’s a pretty good twofor. Anyway, ingest this at your leisure. It’s from his forthcoming LP Liverbleach.

OUT THE WOMB – KIRKIS from kirkis on Vimeo.

Usually when I don’t really understand the technical side of a track (which is to say whenever I listen to anything, ever) I can still point to a few musical touchstones to draw reference to. Not here though. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve failed to procure a coffee this morning or I just don’t have it within my vocabulary to explain just what this reminds me of / sounds like. Dancing about architure, and all that. The one thing I know is that for five and a half minutes this track doesn’t stop pulsing with energy. It isn’t surprising that the wave form looks like a slug because there’s no point at which those questing synths die down. Except, you know, the end of the song. The drum line is as unrelenting as the synth and helps retain intensity across the length of the record while the vocals frame questions above it all. Big tune.

The mental pendulum has has been in motion for quite some time as I’ve thought upon the Hiatus set I caught the other night in support of Thundercat. It’s kind of testament to the strength of what I saw that I’ve not really thought twice about Thundercat since, all resources assigned to that little ol’ support set. I’ve dichotomised the live set and the recordings for some reason and I just can’t stop wondering which is stronger. At the show I kept thinking ‘ohhhh right, this is what they’re about’ but then I put on their records and suddenly this moment is better than the first. I don’t know and I guess it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t need to be relative and what I’m trying to say is that as a holistic act, Hiatus Kaiyote are worth committing to entirely, fully, indefinitely.

Sunday night was one of the best live sets I’ve seen in years. You’ve probably already seen them live and I’m preaching to the choir but at it’s earliest incarnation, Sound Doctrine was just a platform for me to punt my current tunes through your aural goal posts for guaranteed cred points and uhhhh… sports metaphors etc. That’s why I have to post this; because I really, really love it and nothing more. I’ve touched on Hiatus colláborateurs in posts about Kirkis and Silent Jay but I guess I’d kind of suspected you were all over Hiatus themselves and that may be the case. But if you’re not then this is my gift to you. I don’t pretend that I’m putting you in the know ahead of time here since this is a crew backed by the likes of Questlove and Badu themselves but that’s no matter, you and I aren’t about all that, right? Of course we aren’t.

Remember Silent Jay? You damn well should, I only posted it about a day ago you fat idiot. That was unfair, sorry. It’s been a long day + you’ve lost weight. Silent Jay was the cat I posted about at the end of April. Featured on one of his tracks was a man who goes by the name of Kirkis. Very little else is known about him, even within his closest circle of friends and extended family. He’s the enigma, shrouded in a cloak of secrets, walking on a bassline of mystery. I’ve done some sleuthing though and I’ll share with you what little I know. Kirkis was born in the small city of Mytishchi, deep in the heart of Soviet Russia. After subsisting primarily on used breadcrusts and found vermin, Kirkis fancied he could eke out a living in the big city so he ventured forth with his family to Moscow where, after opening a caricature stand, the family’s prospects began to look up. Sadly, democracy and liberalism weren’t features of the 70s socialist soviet and so the family’s short lived success came crashing down as a young Kirkis delved into the prohibited world of illicit groove. Found guilty of dealing in the binary rythms of the gypsy communes, Kirkis was sentenced to twelve years hard labour in Siberia but somewhere along the way the young jazzhound managed to elude his captors and jump a ship to Australia. Now residing in Melbourne, Kirkis writes songs that speak of love and loss, of a family left behind and a nation that groaned under the weight of an oppressive regime. His wandering basslines speak deeply of geographical displacement and the ludicrously pleasurable rhodes lines within his freeform arrangements point toward bigger truths and profound wonders.

If you’re lucky enough to be attending the Thundercat show at Oxford Art Factory in a few weeks side you’ll see the man perform prior to Hiayayus Coyote and Thundercat. Should be a treat for synth starved ears.