This is not for mainstream consumption
this is not background music
this is urban mythology, dissident philosophy
low-fi, DIY, unashamed honesty
we are questioning fundamentals, seeking the transcendental
sharing insecurities, tearing off our masks
Google doesn't know these words exist
AM/FM radios won't find this frequency
audio-encoded antidote to the status quo
counter-culture vibrations knock down that first domino
let this be your alarm clock – shock paddles to your heart
you wanna shake this system up? now's the time to start
We are the batteries in your boom box, the fire in your pen
skeleton key to all their locks, burn that flag again
are you a radical? or just ripples in a stagnant pool?
everything's hierarchical and everyone's too cool
desert landscape, their wells are dry
ditch that handbrake, take a swig of the sky
you think your mind is open? you think you're liberated?
seedpod on an ocean – your success is overrated
you want a chorus? sorry mate, better find another station
we aren't chasing fame or fortune, we seek emancipation
every concept's cliché now, every melody bourgeois
so the only hook you're gonna get is dadadidadada
Mangrove mud, climb that cliff, watch the river flood
water dragons in the drains, your revolution is a dud
unless you bring the masses with you, and look beyond the window sill
your rallies and marches are nothing but empty rituals
You call that resistance? you ain't resisting shit
no-one's listening to your speech, because they're drowning in your spit
no-one's listening to your speech, deafened by your screeching
no-one's listening to your speech, cos you don't practice what you're preaching
you don't practice what you're preaching
The act of protest has itself become a component of the system
street marches are mere shadows of civil disobedience
state-sanctioned, sanitised, commodified and thereby neutered
the charade of democratic dissent legitimises coercive control
“buy two Che Guevara t-shirts
get 30% off your next megaphone!”
the bird who can't see its own cage bars considers itself free
your application for a protest permit has been refused
you may lodge a written appeal within thirty days
but no-one will read it
do not adjust your TV sets
we will adjust them for you
the invisible hand now serves an ulterior purpose
nothing is trickling down anymore
nothing is trickling down anymore
and your tombstone will read “this page was left intentionally blank”
these gutters are cluttered with gratuitous wordplay
but it'll all wash away when the rain comes down
it will all wash away when the rain comes down
it will all wash away when the rain comes down
I could rap in triple-time if I wanted, but what's the point if you can't understand me?
no plan B, we stand on stolen land and bicker over who's the enemy
it's time to use your brain now, it's time to stop the blaming now
it's time to kill the ego we know we only gonna grow if we quit the games now
breathe, contemplate your own mortality
this system's not invincible you mistake shackles for gravity
sharpen those bolt cutters, break them chains and fly
this ain't about building monuments, it's about asking why
I lost count of the stories suffocated when they eradicated the counter-narrative
their documentaries and history books are a pseudo-objective sedative
that margin might seem empty, but there's lots it can teach you
reach you through secret passageways before the matrix eats you
eats you, listen to it feast
static on the airwaves, warn the town: here comes the beast
let this be your alarm clock, shock paddles to your chest
lest we forget the genocide, lest we forget how many died
at least if they do eat us, we'll be difficult to digest
credits
from Subtropical Metropolis?,
released May 15, 2021
Written and performed by Rivermouth
Recorded and mixed by Luke at Hunting Ground Studios
Mastered by Matthew Gray Mastering
Artwork by Anna Carlson
Hi, we're Rivermouth
Our vocalist is a cross between a typewriter and a megaphone. Our keyboardist is a classically trained
virtuoso mad scientist. Our bassist plays in the Richter scale. Our drummer's great-grandfather was a metronome.
Our music is a blend of spoken word, hip hop, jazz, reggae and excellent chai. Lyrics are critical. We want to tickle cerebra and tug heartstrings simultaneously....more
i forgot how good this record is, i picked up the vinyl at a record store figuring i would listen again eventually, and here i am the same night enjoying every track. definitely worth listening!! katt2
This album by Kenyan electronic producer rPH and poet Kins of Spade reflects on the impact of religion in their lives and society. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2023