A wonderfully strange, eclectic, experimental mix of hip-hop, neo-classical and electronica by the LA-based trio fronted by rapper and actor Daveed Diggs, joined by the Nigerian-American and Canadian artists, taken from the expanded edition of their latest album, Dead Channel Sky, out on Sub Pop Records. Dead Channel Sky Plus is released on 19 September. To explore and enjoy more by clipping., see also the other embedded links below.
Counterfeit Madison:
Am I so sure
Nobody can catch me creepin' and
Escapin' with my baby?
Blood on the door alters a faithful visit
Hairbrained or risky
Protecting this seed for my love
Just one more night of Heaven in this Hell
Forbidden by godly men
And maybe you
Daveed Diggs:
They're watchin', you know
The stroke of the key
The pop of the lock
The turn of the coat
A clock of the whip of the wrist or the whip of the wheel is a whip-poor-will whistle
They listen for gristle and bone and you phone it all to them in lists of your wants that you click
Point 'em out
Any kind of beating, they could join around
Any kind of meeting of the motor-mouth emotions in the orbit of the speaking, she could go without
They seek each time she wrote it down
And nothing's forever but this
Every word that she stitched
On the net of her intimate interests, absently ordered, deliveries tipped
Counterfeit Madison:
Could I have known
I'd ever become so sensitive
And known for a family?
I found a home
A miracle in strife of
Perilous secrets
To guard with resentment, my love
Just one more night of Heaven in this Hell
Forbidden by ruling men
And maybe me
Just one more night of Heaven in this Hell
A motion for passing through
Just one more day
Daveed Diggs:
They're watchin', you know
Point 'em out
They're—they're—they're watching, you know
And—and n—and n—and nothing's forever but this
Daveed Diggs:
Any kind of fleeting itch to order out the hunger could beholden, but she know that they are right around
The corners are beholden to the Order of the Golden Angle so she doesn't make a sound
But little isn't nothing and a footprint is enough to bring the algorithm into town
She wonder 'bout the thunder, reminiscing 'bout the TV screens flippin' down and all she heard was tick and pound
Them days are gone, those ways are lost, so
Don't wait too long, don't waste the heart, so
Frivolous, the littlest of morsels
Are recorded and embroidered onto your soul (And nothing's forever but this)
But they're watching, you know (They're watch—watch—watch—watch)
They need what you want
She leaves them a letter of thanks and then makes her way gracefully into the dark
Daveed Diggs:
(They're watching you know) An anonymity lost
Fog is thicker here
In this part of the everything
So what difference is surrender?
Surrender is blind
And the timing is always awkward
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