maliblue

M a l i b l u e ‘Trykt’

“Dreaming of a future dystopia,” remarks Melbourne-based house yogi M a l i b l u e.

Indulging in the opulence of superfluous word-spacing, impressionistic landscape photography, and suburbic nostalgia, M a l i b l u e underscores his work with the fragrance of unearthed Vaporwave spritzed on the perpetual grimace of twentisomething mundanity. Tropes appear one after the next, like “‘diverse‘ yet still ultimately Wonderbread” smile-plastered contestants in an 100th-anniversary beauty pageant. “Winner gets a cream pie to the face,” he croones, lacing clammy hands around the waist of a standing Shure 55SH.

Yet, M a l i b l u e accepts these walks of life. He takes them as they come—be it algae, plastic 6-pack connector rings, or forlorn dollar bills—trite trinkets simply wash over M a l i b l u e like stars in the sky. He watches—amazed yet unfazed, his glassy-eyed smile emanating upwards from the porchside view of his deep sea ocean abode.

Xanaxed garage high-hats echo off in the cathedral-reverbed distance, while comatose post-Dubstep mechanical exasperations give way to ‘adult contemporary’ acoustic piano lines. Tape loops devolve into blues-style kit-crashes in tandem trot with hyper-quantized orchestral synth packs. And as the salt-and-pepper toupée-topped mug materializes on an equally mid-life-crisis’ed squeak-tastic piano bench, it all becomes clear—Nordstrom Rack’s main lobby. This is where it all ends.

☠🏬🔥

-L

[Graphic credit: kidmograph, via aspireyoursmoke]

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