(ER069) Lorem Ipsum/Pushdog – I get hiv on television

If music is sex, then “I get hiv on television” is the transmitted disease. Lorem Ipsum/Pushdog is quite a potent transmission indeed. Through the void so endless we hallucinate the boob tube, blasting contradictions and buzzing sensual filth into our ears, and then mimicked later with a dark cynicism by friends and foes and even those animals we domesticated and brought with us in our devolution. this record conveys the sound of that hyperactive anxious space ripping apart and taking hold of our dreams while we toss and turn and mumble and, in your case, tickle yourself. This record fills in something that the television doesn’t, and that is creativity. With a sharp, stark, and staggering dynamic, this album will enthrall whereas television only stunts. I am reminded of the hope our species seems to have, while it submits to the conglomerate hypnotism of the glowing lambent square that your probably have even infesting your pockets, and more than definitely are indulging in now. The hope that if we look deep enough, as though digging into the artistic underground, to find some sort of meaning to give to our lives, even if it is in the form of lobotomized cold comforts. This album gives me a hope transcendent of such blank dimension. With these sounds, and indeed many our utilized, I am given a grater, more enlightened hope, that smashes the television, temporarily cures aids all around the world, and sends me into my toing, froing mind. rhythms and the antithesis of rhythm itself, often at once, with rewards here and there of beauty and even the occasional bass drop (fuck you Skrillex. Us musically obscure mother fuckers will make you eat your heart out). Enjoy adding more hoopla in your television plagued mind. Let this hoopla be a lesson, that if mastered, the art of hoopla will send you to the sky.

Album: I Get HIV On Television

Artist: Lorem Ipsum/Pushdog

Format: mp3

Genre: Noise, Rhythmic Noise, Psychedelic Trash

March 31, 2012


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Emanate the residue, my friends. All foundations have dismantled. The veils have all lifted. The stench of rot is in the air. Breathe in the aroma deeply, my friends. You, a fellow secreter of radiance and soul. Let us dissolve reality and float about in the primordial world where everything imaginable comes to pass. Come, transcend the mud by digging into it. My friends, let us bask in the effluvia of it all!






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