unearthing subterranean media since 2009

The Sunday Hangover – K-Otix

(Click image for information that will most likely blow your little, post-drunken brain out of its frame.)

The groove was so deep nothing could stop the rhythm of our bobbing heads. We sat, transfixed, the invisible string on the bass drum pedal tied to our torsos, squeezing everyone’s soul in the exact same rhythm. Our energies expanded with each boom of the bass and contracted as we absorbed the melodies. Vocals rose above the stomping tribal beat of the backing band to gather together in the space just above the crowd in the center of the giant room, and we watched as the filth of the previous week was washed clean from our backs, and we began to float slightly above our chairs. The venue lights were the break of dawn in a cool cave, just bright enough to suggest the possibility of space beyond what we could see. The smell of animals and plants filled the room, a damp forest, raw and musky, but refreshing to our over sterilized senses.

Nothing could tear us from this moment. Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing could pull us from the outlet to which we were magnetically attached and charging our tired batteries. Nothing at all except for them.

Onward they came in droves, the buttoned-down rhinos, full-bellied from the oasis they had just drunk clean. In their wake, they left pools of mud, excrement, and trampled trails of crumpled, dead plants. They stumbled into our menagerie and resented our communion. Their agendas did not involve syncing with our energy, and so they sought to tear through it like bits of gravel flung through a paper kite.

Action had to be taken, and no one could have foreseen the force with which I was driven to protect our land. It was kill or be killed as impulse drew me towards the bag crumpled at my feet.

The faint light caught the object I withdrew for just a fraction as the glinting disc hissed into the protruding forehead of the leader of the intrusive beasts. The skin between his eyes parted and his skull gave way with the sound of splintering wood. The hate in his eyes drained, and as his muscles slackened beneath him, an understanding smile crept across his visage.

When the disc was exhumed, and the blood wiped clean, someone in the crowd leaned close and squinted to read the letters that began to emerge. “K-Otix,” he said aloud, and the crowd roared in unanimity.

Listen: K-Otix – World Renown

Download:K-Otix – Universal

Posted by: Jamie

Category: Music

7 Nov, 2010

Category: Music

Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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