In which we big up the mainstream overground.
It’s been almost a month since our last Friday ACID Post. Can you belee dat shit? My fingers were actually so unaccustomed to typing it in that I kept writing ‘house’ instead of ‘post’ again and again like some sort of attention span-challenged freak. But we can assure you that things are now back on track. Heads have rolled and the people responsible for not living up to their ACID responsibilities have been sacked.Yes sir, we don’t mess around here at the AIAIAI ministry of ACID.
This week’s track is a bit of a departure for the ACID post. And we know what you’re thinking. Something along the lines of:’ hey those AIAIAI people have gone old, soft and sentimental. They’re not about dark, menacing, squelchyness, they’re big man babies who pay women to powder their bottoms.’ Or something.
Anyway, the thing about this track is that although the acid may be slight in amount, it’s extremely well timed and placed. Rihanna bellows out her soul and the 303 comes in like a fire-spewing dragon destroying all in is path.
It’s a sight to behold. Or, to be more accurate, a thing to be heard. So instead of succumbing to some sort of infantile notion about what’s ‘underground’ and ‘mainstream’, we’re choosing to focus on the acid. If that turns us into diaper-rocking perverts, so be it.