unholy rhythms

We would celebrate our cruelty by humbling those with our spiked and flickering tongues. Dancing with disdain, we would shout out our libelic mantras - slamming showering shadows with slander. Our small arms would rise and wiggle above our heads as our derision built higher and higher. Those around us could not understand our muted, foreign language as we writhed without a care. As the abuse rolled out of our mouths, I suddenly felt as if I was towering those around me. My small stature became puffed and gigantic. Full of abhorrence - a growing, thriving hostility ran through my crooked and twisted veins. Detestable damsel - forbidding femme.

Fall into the hyper, frantic pop of Japan’s trippple nippples. Hyper realistic, high octane, neon pop that suddenly alters your surroundings into pop-art atmospheres full of Murakami-esque flowers, test screens, and electric kool-aid tests. My new favorites.

♪ File under: neon, electronic pop, frayed pop