Category Archives: CULTURE

Action Bronson & The Alchemist: Rare Chandeliers

Tracklist –

1. Big Body Bes Intro
2. Rare Chandeliers
3. The Symbol
4. Sylvester Lundgren Feat. Meyhem Lauren & Ag Da Coroner
5. Randy The Musical
6. Demolition Men Feat. Schoolboy Q
7. Eggs On The Third Floor
8. Modern Day Revelations Feat. Roc Marciano
9. Dennis Haskins
10. Bitch I Deserve You Feat. Evidence
11. Gateway To Wizardy Feat. Styles P
12. Bathtub 8 Feat. Deep
13. Blood Of The Goat Feat. Big Twin & Sean Price
14. Mike Vick

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Make or Break.

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Snap!

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The Passenger. Madrid, Spain

On first glance, The Passenger restaurant, recently opened in the trendy Malasaña neighborhood’s Triball area in Madrid, Spain, appears like any retro dining establishment with heavy-handed use of leather, brass and dark wood. Yet there is a distinct undertone of a train, of a fine passenger train of a bygone era.

The bulky and clubby arm chairs, the iron table legs, the big windows all refer to a time when heads of state and industrialists, often travelling with their wives and servants, occupied entire train cars and dined in the most lavishly appointed dining cars rivalling the best-known fine establishments of the time.

But the real fun aspect of the 150-seat The Passenger — coffee bar by day, rock bar by night —  is the illusion of movement. The three “windows” in the main seating area are actually video screens onto which a constant, synchronized stream of video is programmed so that it flows  from window to window, creating a feeling of looking out the window of a moving train.

The stylized train view, evoking an alternate state of being in the middle of busy Madrid, was created by Spanish video artist Franger. The images of both urban scenes and natural landscapes were recorded from actual trains around the world.

The restaurant’s designers at Parolio took their inspiration from the long-and-narrow space and then continued with the train travel concept throughout. Consistent with the classic rock music played at night, the main hall of the restaurant is decorated with images of the greatest stars of classic rock pictured in trains and railway stations.

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Style Kats.

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Bugatti Head of Design’s Personal 911 Project


This week on DRIVEN we spend some time with Achim Andscheidt, Head of Design for Bugatti. Achim takes us for a drive around the streets of Berlin in his stripped down 911 while he shares his thoughts on minimalism in design and construction, and how he feels about personal design projects.

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Guerrilla Fashion: The Story of Supreme

The New York Times Article –

“PUT your hands up, let’s go!” barked the gangly young man in the red varsity jacket, his sneakers planted atop a bike rack on Lafayette Street in SoHo, as he produced a wad of crumpled bills from his slumping jeans.

A crowd of hundreds of street kids flashing a dandy streak in their camo and their leopard print had been assembling like a slow-motion flash mob since the night before — ever since word trickled out that the 2012 spring-summer collection forSupreme, the cultish street-wear brand, was about to drop. In certain urban circles, a new Supreme line qualifies as an event, on par with a new iPhone. Fans camp out on folding chairs and sleeping bags.

The die-hards, however, can get restless, so to break the tension, the young man, adopting the role of hip-hop hype man, decided to “make it rain” — to use a strip-club parlance. As ASAP Rocky’s rap anthem “Peso” thumped from a car parked nearby, he sent bills fluttering over the whooping crowd before tumbling into a triumphant crowd surf.

Passers-by in suits offered quizzical looks. But that’s perfectly fine with Supreme. No offense, but if you don’t know about Supreme, maybe it’s because you’re not supposed to.

For much of its 18-year existence, Supreme was confined to the in-crowd, a scruffy clubhouse for a select crew of blunt-puffing skate urchins, graffiti artists, underground filmmakers and rappers.

“It is a little club, a secret society,” said Tyler, the Creator, the rapper with the group Odd Future, who showed up at last year’s MTV Video Music Awards decked out in Supreme.

Word, though, is getting out. Once dismissed as skate-wear by fashion people, Supreme has been embraced by a new global tribe eager to crack its code.

Huge lines, once endemic to its New York flagship in SoHo, now form at satellite stores in Los Angeles, London, Tokyo and other cities. The current issue of British GQ Style, a men’s fashion bible, hails Supreme as “the coolest streetwear brand in the world right now.” And the Berlin culture magazine O32c called it “the Holy Grail of high youth street culture.” The Business of Fashion site called it “the Chanel of downtown streetwear.”

On the red carpet, Supreme has become a certifiable thing for rappers and pop stars. At the recent Paris Fashion Week, Kanye West arrived at the Céline show wearing a green-camouflage pullover field jacket by Supreme. In September, Frank Ocean performed on “Saturday Night Live” wearing a Supreme hockey jersey adorned with a Southwestern-style thunderbird.

For any other brand, such sightings would be considered a P.R. coup. But they are beside the point for Supreme, which is so fiercely protective of its anarchic downtown heritage that it would rather be ignored by the masses than misunderstood.

“Most businesses just have a goal of getting as big as possible,” said Glenn O’Brien, the style writer. But Supreme does not “try to be in every department store in the world,” preferring instead to stay underground and boutique.

“Supreme is a company that refuses to sell out,” he said.

SUPREME is also a company that plays hard to get. That uncompromising spirit starts with the stores themselves.

Opened in 1994 by its press-shy founder, James Jebbia, the Lafayette Street store pioneered an art-gallery-cum-storage-facility chic, with its white walls and plywood shelving.

The Container Store this was not. The retail experience — from the Bad Brains blaring overhead, to the store clerks who sized up visitors with blank stares — could be forbidding.

Shoppers could look but not touch, especially during the early days, recalled Aaron Bondaroff, a founder of Ohwow gallery who worked at the shop in the 1990s. Anyone who mussed the folded T-shirts could expect a scolding.

The subtext was clear: One had to earn the right to shop there.

“I walked in there and, even as a girl, I still felt intimidated: these were real skate kids,” said Vashtie Kola, a downtown music video director and party promoter, recalling her visits in the ’90s. Like the skate world in general, the store, she added, was “a place where authenticity is of extreme importance.”

“People can pick up on your scent,” she continued. “It’s a hard world to gain respect in.”

Then, as now, the merchandise was every bit as coded. Supreme channels various underground style currents: the punkiness of Dogtown-era skatewear, the macho utilitarianism of military gear, the brash colors of ’80s hip-hop — and merges them into a singular aesthetic.

Prices are hardly astronomical (jeans are about $130; hoodies, $170), but Supreme cultivates the same covetous frenzy that might greet a new $9,000 Hermès Birkin bag.

Limited runs help stoke demand. A corduroy shell jacket, a collaboration with North Face listed at $298, recently sold out in one minute online and appeared almost simultaneously on eBay for $700, according to Peter Panagakos, of Strictly Supreme, a members-only Web site where Supreme zealots trade rumors and merch. (Invitations to the site are themselves highly coveted.)

Collaborations with bien-pensant contemporary artists further enhance Supreme’s esoteric air. The current fall-winter collection, for example, includes an Army-style M-51 jacket, featuring artwork by the skateboarder and artist Mark Gonzales, for $298. Skate-deck collaborations with artists like Damien Hirst and Richard Prince may retail for less than $100, but are “collected like art,” Mr. O’Brien said.

The artist Nate Lowman remembers seeing a skate deck he designed — a bullet-hole motif — hanging at the Gagosian Gallery on Madison Avenue, next to editions by Christopher Wool and Jeff Koons. “They’re hanging there on the wall, for thousands of dollars,” he said, still laughing at the idea. He telephoned Mr. Jebbia, who wants to keep the boards in the hands of the kids, and he said that Mr. Jebbia cursed into the phone, saying, “I’m going to tell them to stop.”

The brand’s calibrated mystique extends to its promotion, or lack thereof. Supreme could be a case study on guerrilla marketing. Bumper stickers with its fiery-red Barbara Kruger-esque logo can be spotted in bohemian neighborhoods around the globe — Harajuku, Tokyo; Shoreditch, London; Kreuzkölln, Berlin; Greenpoint, Brooklyn — like hobo signs for global cool hunters.

Its inscrutable Web commercials, meanwhile, could double as video installations at the Whitney Biennial. In one grainy spot, “Chicken Wing Recipe,” the rap group Three 6 Mafia hangs out in an underlighted room at the Chateau Marmont, smoking, drinking and mumbling directions for killer wings.

For a time, it produced a Supreme magazine, featuring the likes of Chloë Sevigny and Ryan McGinley as models, that functioned as a social register of sorts for the downtown art set.

Other branding efforts are sporadic at best, like the one-off calendars shot by Terry Richardson and Larry Clark, sold in limited edition at the shop, that were so N.S.F.W. that they might raise eyebrows at Hustler. Or the minimalist posters with no tag lines, just a photo of renegades like Lou Reed, Lady Gaga and Mike Tyson in a Supreme T-shirt.

Spend enough time in Supreme’s orbit, and it’s fair to wonder: is Supreme borrowing their cool, or are they borrowing Supreme’s?

PERHAPS its biggest mystery is its founder, Mr. Jebbia. A sphinxlike figure and keeper of the Supreme faith, he rarely grants interviews.

In fact, he did not consent to a formal interview until a reporter’s third visit to Supreme’s loft headquarters on Wooster Street, with its soaring white walls and hushed air. He and Angelo Baque, the street-cred-oozing brand director, needed convincing that the reporter would “get the references.” Supreme draws inspiration from sources as disparate as John Coltrane, Robert Longo, Malcolm McLaren and Public Enemy.

Despite his elusiveness, Mr. Jebbia does not come off as a garden-variety fashion prima donna. At 48, with his erect posture, blunt features and mournful ice-blue eyes, he gives off the intimidating air of an aging middleweight boxer who still has a few knockout punches left in him.

Seated in a blue Commes des Garçons shirt and jeans beneath a giant photo of James Brown, he politely explained his reticence. Reporters, he said, usually garble the story, pigeonholing Supreme as a skate-wear company, instead of, say, New York’s brass-knuckle answer to A.P.C., the plus-chic French label.

“It’s always something stupid,” Mr. Jebbia said, sounding more weary than angry, in a no-nonsense British accent that calls to mind a member of the Clash. “They’ll see the lines at the store and say: ‘Those kids are crazy. What are you guys selling, crack?’

“However, if they see a line outside of, say, Louis Vuitton or Uniqlo, it’s fully accepted and understood why: they just came out with something hot that their customers love and want to buy. It’s no different for us. There’s no tricks or gimmicks. It’s all about good product.”

A quiet family man (he and his wife, Bianca, live in the West Village with their children, Miles, 5, and Nina, 3), he has no interest in playing the downtown celebrity himself.

Mr. Jebbia grew up mainly in Sussex, England. His American father was in the United States Air Force, and his English mother was a homemaker and then a teacher (they split when he was around 10). Mr. Jebbia devoured style magazines like The Face and I-D, and spent weekends window-shopping in London. For a time he worked in a Duracell battery factory.

But New York held a firm grip on his imagination, so after a visit in 1983 to his father, then living in West Virginia, he moved to Staten Island, into a $500-a-month apartment. Over the next six years, he worked his way up at Parachute, the ’80s minimalist clothing store in SoHo, and sold fashionable backpacks and vintage clothes at a flea market on Spring Street.

Eventually he scraped up enough money to open his own shop, Union, on Spring Street, which specialized in British labels like the Duffer of St. George and Fred Perry, as well as Stüssy, the California skate-wear line. That led to a partnership with Shawn Stussy in the cultish Stüssy boutique on Prince Street, which could be seen as a progenitor of Supreme. When Mr. Stussy cashed out, Mr. Jebbia, never a skater himself, opened a skate shop of his own, on a then-forlorn stretch of Lafayette.

It was an auspicious moment in New York. Wu-Tang Clan lobbed its hip-hop offensive from Staten Island, KAWS turned bus shelters into canvases, and Larry Clark splattered the screen with “Kids,” the 1995 film about sexed-up New York teenagers in the age of H.I.V. and club drugs.

Supreme felt like “Kids” in real life, Mr. Clark said; a few actors in the film even worked there. “We would always meet at Supreme and then go skate at Washington Square Park,” he said. “Everybody hung out there.”

The shop became Boys Town with a Biggie soundtrack, with Mr. Jebbia as an underground Father Flanagan. “A lot of us who didn’t have apartments, who had weird situations, we all knew we could go there, get a meal, have a beer, a smoke,” said Mr. Bondaroff, the gallerist, who was a high-school dropout from Brooklyn at the time.

The store reflected the city around it. “People would buy stuff and get robbed afterward,” Mr. Jebbia said. “But New York in general was like that.”

As the clubhouse scene flourished, so did its appeal among discerning skate punks who knew how to accessorize a Gucci belt with Carhartt work pants. “We were making clothes for that New York skater, who is a picky kind of person with good taste,” he said. “He may look scruffy to the outside world, but he’s very sharp in the way he dresses.”

Mr. Jebbia slowly expanded the line — from T-shirts and hoodies to a full sportswear and lifestyle line. But it never lost sight of its core customer, the city kids who came of age quaffing 40s and doing kick flips at the Astor Place Cube. After nearly two decades, Supreme remains a proud holdout from New York’s gloriously raunchy bad old days, before Rudy Giuliani and “Friends” colluded to scrub the city of much of its grit.

BUT how does Supreme maintain street credibility in an era when Justin Bieber pops up on celebrity gossip and lifestyle sites in a Universal Monsters/Supreme “Creature From the Black Lagoon” hoodie?

Mr. Jebbia insists he is not elitist about who wears Supreme. If a 9-year-old from New Jersey wants a Supreme hat because Kanye wears one, fine. But he is loathe to water down Supreme’s boundary-pushing urban sensibility to cross over to the suburban mainstream.

“I feel a very important factor to our longevity is that, over the years, we have managed to create our own unique identity and aesthetics,” Mr. Jebbia said. Big or small, the brands he admires — A.P.C., Polo, Isabel Marant, Antihero Skateboards — invented and maintained “a dope original and consistent design language,” he added.

He seems unconcerned that other brands with a skate heritage (Stüssy, Skechers) have reaped mass-market riches. “Our business is as good as any high-end designer,” he said, declining to discuss specific revenue numbers. “We do good because we make good things.”

He shrugs off suggestions that Supreme expand for expansion’s sake into, say, women’s wear. “It’s not what we know,” Mr. Jebbia said. “It’s not in keeping with what we do.”

Those in Supreme’s inner circle see nobility in Mr. Jebbia’s unwillingness to cash in. Ms. Kola, the party promoter, said that celebrities often approach her seeking to collaborate with Supreme, but that Mr. Jebbia waves them off.

“He easily could have a million stores,” Ms. Kola, said. “He could be dressing people, and giving free product to celebrities, like every other brand does. But he keeps it very limited. It’s very much a friends-and-family vibe.”

But to Mr. Jebbia, it’s more than just being noble. Staying true to Supreme code is the only business plan he has.

Supreme, as he put it, “needs to be cool to survive.”

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Boss.

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Noir Recommends // November/December 2012


what Noir likes
what Noir plays in the clubs and
what Noir thinks you should play too.

Tracklist –
01. Alex Flatner, MSMS and Cari Golden – Love Is A Condition (Original Mix) – Noir Music
02. Grand Corporation ft Jeremy Glenn – Wonder & Amazement (Deetron Remix) – Classic Music Company
03. Maxxi Soundsystem – Regrets We Have No Use For (Original Mix) – Hypercolour
04. Yousef – Beg (Hot Since 82 Remix) – Defected
05. Deep Future – You Need it (Detroit Swindle Remix) – Gruuv
06. Nils Penner – Berlin (Original Mix) – Freerange
07. Kevin Over – When Anger Grows (Original Mix) – Noir Music
08. James Welsh – Nowt (Ron Basejam Remix 1) – Wolf Music
09. Santé vs MD X-Spress – This Is House (Original Mix) – Defected
10. Pele & Shawnecy – Focus (Original Mix) – Cecille Numbers
11. Bicep – Vision Of Love (Original Mix) – Feel My Bicep
12. Tapesh & Maxmiljan – When We Were Young (Original Mix) – Noir Music
13. Tube & Berger – Surfin (NiCe7 Remix) – Kittball
14. Celeda – Be Yourself (Supernova Sunrise Remix) – Twisted
15. Mikalogic – Supernova (Original Mix) – Beat Yourself Records
16. Tom Trago ft Cinnaman – Rise Up (Original Mix) – Rush Hour
17. Phil Kieran & White Noise Sound – Never Believed (Noir Remix) – Phil Kieran Recordings
18. Emanuel Satie – Stay (Original Mix) – Mono Recordings
19. Re.you ft Vonda7 – Closer (Original Mix) – Souvenir Music
20. Alex Mine – You Know Its Right (Original Mix) – Sincopat
21. Android Cartel – The Usual Suspects (Barem Remix) – Rawthentic Music
22. Justin Martin – Butterflies (Catz n Dogz Remix) – Dirtybird

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NIKE AIR MAX+ 2013

Get set to turn the page to a new chapter in the Nike Air Max saga in 2013 with the most advanced member of the bubble-baring family to date. The space-aged-sneak will feature a slew of Nike technologies from the Hyperfused upper, a supportive Dynamic Flywire system and the most flexible heel-to-toe Air Max unit ever made. Recently we have seen more and more emphasis put on lightweight, breathable, supportive yet unrestricted footwear, and Nike have once again proved that they mean serious business with this upcoming open-air installment. The Air Max+ 2013 will release in January in a tri-set combo of single-colour editions in racy red, stealth black and pristine white – head to nikeinc.com for more details.

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Snap!

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Hypebeast Spaces: The Offices of St. Alfred


Established by the same folks behind KICKS/HI, Chicago’s St. Alfred has evolved into not only one of Chicago’s premier lifestyle shops, but one of the most highly regarded across the country. Having worked with industry heavyweights like Nike, Converse, New Era, Reebok, Vans, and Gatorade to artists like Dalek and Mr. Cartoon, St. Alfred has become a one-stop shop for everything from Stussy, Undefeated, Norse Projects, visvim and WTAPS, to iconic labels like Ray-Ban and Red Wing alongside its own in-house designs. For the latest edition of Spaces, we were fortunate enough to sit down with the brains behind the store at their unified workspace — located just a few doors down from the shop itself. Collectively handling both the buying and day-to-day operations for the store, Frank DiGiovanni, David Robinson and Joe Shaefer sat down to discuss the workspace, the shop itself, and the “breath of fresh air” that the separation provides in fostering creativity and development of the St. Alfred brand.

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Poetic Cosmos of the Breath by Tomás Saraceno

Poetic Cosmos of the Breath was an experimental solar dome created by artist Tomas Saraceno. It was launched at dawn on 22 September 2007 at Gunpowder Park, Essex, UK. Commissioned by The Arts Catalyst.

Saraceno is an artist and architect whose utopian visions for cities that float in the air has led him to create a series of experimental structures such as balloons or inflatable modular platforms that can be inhabited and exploit natural energies.

For The Arts Catalyst’s 2nd International Artists Airshow, Saraceno was commissioned to create one of these experimental structures. Despite being postponed due to heavy rain, this successful launch was finally achieved in September.

The Arts Catalyst – www.artscatalyst.org

Poetic Cosmos of the Breath was funded by Arts Council of England, East, and the Henry Moore Foundation

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Frank Ocean Talks to GQ About Music, Life and His Open Letter

GQ Interview –

If Frank Ocean wanted to play you a song, you’d drive across town in the pouring rain, right? That’s how we’ve ended up at Jungle City, a sound studio in Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood. When we walk in, Ocean leading the way, Pharrell Williams turns down the music and greets him warmly. “Here you are,” the prolific rapper and producer tells him. “You’ve walked in at the right time.”

“Sweet,” Ocean replies, picking up Pharrell’s diamond-studded gold chain that sits—fat as a tow rope—at the edge of the mixing board. Ocean, dressed in a gray Supreme hoodie, jeans, and black Wallabees, smiles as he dons the weighty necklace—it jibes with the new Rolex on his left wrist, the Cartier Juste Un Clou bracelet on his right. In a bit, he’ll Instagram a bejeweled portrait of himself, but first he unveils three new tracks, stored on his phone, that Pharrell pronounces “crazy, with a lot of comprehensive layers just sort of living harmoniously.” When Ocean says he worries a rap number called “Blue Whale” is “risky because I’m rhyming,” Pharrell shakes his head.

“That’s not risky. That thought is dead,” he says. “It’s like, ‘You know, I rhyme, too.’ ”

Turning to me, Pharrell says, “I always call him James Taylor. He’s probably the closest thing to a writer’s perfect exemplification of the unconscious. All the songs are like movies. All you need to do is close your eyes.”

Now it’s Pharrell’s turn to spin a track-in-progress. They listen, bobbing their heads slightly, occasionally both bursting into song. When the room is quiet again, Ocean says the song “feels like a Rubik’s Cube melodically. You want something emotionally rich on that, you know what I’m saying? But if I listen to it enough, I could map a way out.” Before we exit, they agree Ocean will come back later this evening to work on it. Pharrell is attending the first show of Jay-Z’s eight-night run at the brand-new Barclays Center in Brooklyn, but he says he’ll come back, too. “Ain’t no afterparty more important than this.”

“Map a way out”—it’s a phrase Ocean will use more than once during the next four hours as we talk about his life and especially his last few months. He’s still just 25, but it feels like he packed ten years’ worth of living into 2012 alone, releasing a heralded album, Channel Orange, in July and headlining Saturday Night Live’s season premiere in September. Throughout this period he has also been handling the reverberations of something he revealed on Tumblr just before Channel Orange’s debut: his memories of an intimate relationship with his first love, a man—a  rare admission in the macho world of hip-hop and R&B.

It’s important to Ocean to be the master of his own identity: Last year he changed his name from Lonny Breaux to Christopher Francis Ocean, drawing on Frank Sinatra and the original Ocean’s 11 film for inspiration. And yet he admits that the failed relationship he mentioned on Tumblr sent him spinning out of control, rocking him even as it improved his musicality, transforming him from a man with skills to a skillful man with something he suddenly was burning to say. What was going through his mind this summer, he tells me, was something like this: “If I’m going to say this, I’m going to be better than all you pieces of shit. What you going to say now? You can’t say, ‘Oh, they’re only listening to him because he said this.’ No, they’re listening to me because I’m gifted, and this project is brilliant.”

GQ: GQ: You were born in Long Beach, California, but moved to New Orleans at age 5. When is the first time you realized you wanted to write and perform music?
Frank Ocean: I feel like I was writing as I was learning to talk. Writing was always a goto form of communication. And I knew I could sing from being in tune with the radio. I would listen to whatever my mom played in the car—the big divas: Whitney, Mariah, Celine, Anita Baker. Then I got exposed to Prince. I think it was “The Beautiful Ones.” He was screaming at the end. And this lady who was playing it was saying, “Ain’t no man scream like Prince.” And I was like, “That’s fucking awesome.”

GQ: Your dad had left when you were 6, so your mom raised you on her own.
Frank Ocean: I haven’t seen him since. And for a while, you know, we were not middle-class. We were poor. But my mom never accepted that. She worked hard to become a residential contractor—got her master’s with honors at the University of New Orleans. I used to go to every class with her. Her father was my paternal figure. He’d had a really troubled life with crack, heroin, and alcohol and had kids he wasn’t an ideal parent to. I was his second chance, and he gave it his best shot. My grandfather was smart and had a whole lot of pride. He didn’t speak a terrible amount, but you could tell there was a ton on his mind—like a quiet acceptance of how life had turned out. He was a mentor at AA and NA, and I would go with him to meetings.

GQ: When did you start recording?
Frank Ocean: I booked my first studio at like 12 or 13. Somewhere in that season of my life, singing along with the radio became me wanting to be on radio, you know. And writing Langston Hughes replica poems became me wanting to write like Stevie Wonder. My dad had been a singer and keyboardist. So my mom was like, “You’re going to follow that bum? Maybe you should just go to law school.”

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Food for Thought.

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Snap!

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Call of Duty: Black Ops II Care Package

Call of Duty: Black Ops II Care Package edition comes shipped in a large black hard case and contains a remote-controlled quadrotor drone, a two-sided SteelBook, the official soundtrack to the game, several props, some challenge coins, bonus in-game content and of course, a copy of the game itself. Available now, the Care Package can be purchased at Amazon for $180 USD. Kinda wishing I hadn’t already finished the campaign now.

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VESPA 946

Inspired by the WWII-era MP6 prototype, the Vespa 946 ($TBA) is the scooter at its most pure and refined. The 946 is powered by an ultra-modern single cylinder, 125cc, four-stroke engine that offers fuel consumption of over 55 km per liter — that’s nearly 130 mpg — and 30 percent fewer emissions. Other features include a lightweight, high-quality build that incorporates plenty of aluminum, and a sleek design that’s perfect for the urban commute.

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The Gaslamp Killer: Breakthrough

Tracklist:
01 – Breakthrough Intro
02 – Veins (with Gonjasufi)
03 – Holy Mt Washington (with Computer Jay)
04 – Father
05 – Critic (with Mophono)
06 – Dead Vets (with Adrian Younge & MRR)
07 – Flange Face (with Miguel Atwood-Ferguson)
08 – Fuck
09 – Apparitions (with Gonjasufi)
10 – Impulse (with Daedelus)
11 – Peasants, Cripples & Retards (with SAMIYAM)
12 – Meat Guilt (with RSI)
13 – Mother
14 – Nissim (with Amir Yaghmai)
15 – Keep It Simple Stupid (with Shigeto)
16 – 7 Years of Bad Luck for Fun (with Dimlite)
17 – In the Dark…

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Till death do us part….

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