photo by Bridget McQuillan
[Editor's note: This feature previews the Make Believe showcase this Saturday at The Waiting Room Lounge. Lightning Bug, Bear Stories, Snake Island!, Conchance, Black Jonny Quest and Dojorok comprise the lineup. The show is free and offers a compilation CD at the door.]
Imagine a beat composed with just the right amount of grooves, just the right number of teeth that hit the pins of an otherwise locked mind at just the right time. Now stop imagining.
The key is turned only when actively hearing music. Although the mechanism changes with every listen, the best songs keep unlocking the door. Sure, words and melodies and rhythms can shoot from synapse to synapse without exterior stimuli. What's remarkable, though, is that the critical moments of a song yield an emotional response more than once. Past that first time, it's always somewhat surprising that they do.
Case in point: Conchance's first line in "Aphrodite's Time Machine." After Kethro's crackling, repeating melodic line, the Ghostface sample and the inhale of a beat, the song breathes out at once as Conchance finishes that line. Bass and snare pulse on through the rest of the track, and the open door welcomes the fresh air.
Kethro and Conchance take part in this Saturday's Make Believe Records Showcase at The Waiting Room. Here are thoughts on the track from Kethro and Conchance. After the jump, also read unedited lyrics courtesy of Conchance:
"The beat was created last winter with a broken MPC, a bass guitar, turntable and a low-budget condenser mic. I didn't have many other tools to use at the time and a lot of patience. I knew that Conchance would really settle in well with the vibe of track, so I passed it to him. The result was 1,000 times greater than I could ever imagine."
"Keith told me he had a beat for me because he knew I was hungry for something to write on. When he gave it to me, I tripped. I knew the direction I was going to take with the Ghostface sample on the intro. I decided to go on love rant. A rant that speaks on love and how it dictates us for the better and for the worse. No chorus, no bullshit. Just love for love, rap and beats. Bless Kethro."
courtesy of Conchance
I put my money on photosynthesis,
I’ll sell my rights for 3 plums, and a QP of cabbage,
miss 1 dad, and madness liquidated for the couch,
mouth full of pennies, dollars for her knew blouse, she pretty.
Smile like the lights of the city.
Sit on window seal, due east, she high for dues cheap.
Low beneath, let me know she know me.
stogies burn learn when she talked geeked,
murder the moon walks that came from Mike’s feet,
earn burgers for moon rocks, pikes peach,
nerd chick in to doo-wop, mop your boy sick, she could cool, a fool cop.
D top cup. Booty fuck your mind up backwards.
Cakes like gretta, the actress, speak her mind & see the atlas.
KC smoke cheap but drink old city fashion,
lives above the liquor store, lives on top Henry's figaro.
4 bigots blasting.
Figured more, from a hash breather,
who smash, dads nina, to his adams apple and mean it.
It mean it, even the score.
Two addicts attached to 2 habbits, all mad, cat and dog fabric.
Patent days, rap i love average.
l know love above, genius’s bastard son havoc, or ask his sister black magic.
Who cap her king, swing, give dap to queen, i dream,
the day i spell love. with letters lessons of being, see.
Conny, the poet that birth motive’s lotus, move in through earth exhumed its oceans,
Conny, learned to fucking focus…
Love learned to burn the bush for Moses, unearth, words, that quote us,
for motherfuckers, doped in hope sodas.
Loaded smoke blowers, the dope that know no ones owners.
Love leave you homeless, broken, thrown into a coma,
so pissed at the scent of her aroma,
leave you with your dick in your hand, and your poor kids on your shoulder.
fuck it, get over, get folded, cold wind so thin,
so kids, soak it up. words for the chosen love…
Michael Todd is Hear Nebraska's managing editor. He will play make believe and imagine a world with weekly Make Believe showcases. Reach him at email@example.com.