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Master Fader on Speed Dial

by Rhys Langston

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  • Lyric Scroll and Box of Poems from The Estate

    The Estate of the Lord Davis has commissioned BLK Market Poetry to conjure scrolls of lyrics to honor Rhys Langston's "Master Fader on Speed Dial" EP release.

    In a hand-scrawled box beside two poems and a rare sketch from the Arch-Polemicist's books of drawings, is a single double-sided scroll of the full lyrics from his new release, printed on iridescent, gold linen paper.

    INCLUDES TWO EXTRA DOWNLOAD CODES (to share with friends or hoard for oneself)

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    Includes unlimited streaming of Master Fader on Speed Dial via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
decapitated quatrains of bodies of huddled masses as the living plot device tugs and pulls and becomes flaccid, private screen to the incognito tab incorporated into the big data morass slogging in dialogue, well maybe that’s canned, capital H. Brown of this mumble rap, well past the scantron on the standardized paper bags over postwar plastic, autotuned to can-can dancing flappers put for the18th hole: no blacks, no jews, no gods, no masters track’s miscegenated hardware compression on top of the track, like I got the master fader on speed dial I got the master fader on speed dial I got the master fader on speed dial I got the master fader on speed dial I got the master fader on speed dial I got the master fader on speed dial I got the master fader on speed dial [operator is an executable file please uninstall the terminal thank you]
2.
punjab Sinaloa, halal subtotal, taxation by brown-skinned, islamophobics, taco trucks on every corner, over legal doja, neat ribbon closure, “boa constructor”, matter fact shouts Lisa Jarnot presbyterian Korea, theatre of war, and cold pizza, quotidian, infrequent no predicates either, just some scathing critiques, like stretching obliques, presidential orders in them unmanned fleets pockets of meaning, dictionary-sized rants, pre-upholstered in them echo chamber pants, absurdists out of work in line as breadcrumb pedants just the tithes tied, new nooses, old meanings, fresh produce, ahistorical facts, alternative realities to boot, motes of what is moot, authentic nonsense, thesaurus on a park bench, an about face to round out my pretense bold print, type cast, post race, post doc, ad hoc, radicalist homemade eukaryotes, parade floats, the danger of the dredged coasts, the logician as she boasts, at an upward angle doze, duty free, respite or repose? punjab Sinaloa, halal subtotal, taxation by brown-skinned, islamophobics, taco trucks on every corner, over legal doja, neat ribbon closure, “boa constructor”, matter fact shouts Lisa Jarnot, kid!
3.
[a short story by Muckraker Jones] incredibly black and extremely eccentric! Incredibly black and extremely eccentric… (but where, but where, but where, but where??) incredibly black and extremely eccentric in Eugene, Oregon, post-show brunch talking that Eugene Onegin, so goes the heir apparent Pushkin, sunlight, an envelope filter before he cuts out with his fortune then continuing to prattle on, onus is the next mea culpa college town where they plant and nurture seedlings, outrage farm, see even the parking ticket was organically sown split the $50 difference from them usual citations: footnotes, toenotes, Afro-centric in no sandals lately, like lathe-cut to disrupt, Portland in the cut, snapping photos, soundcheck, self-loather emeritus after performance de-centered from the whiteness, bearable lightness watching Insecure with the finest genuine women, platonic couch surfers upstream in a ’99 La Saber swimming just the pale Black negative Jason Mantzoukas, Dutch Brothers’, 5-North, roses and tulips, grandest delusions, yo went to Bend, Oregon and found the sound of silence in audience movements in Corvallis she reached for my what? (No, stop, no) Onto the next few days, yo up the border verily, blacked out bookings, amplified group therapy incredibly black and extremely eccentric! (in Oregon) Incredibly black and eccentric! Incredibly black and extremely eccentric…
4.
plucked string double dutch around horn of Asia spices clutched, pearl species who lost luster, tore meniscus mind fuck with slipped discus off compact rips of cinema dubs eastern progression writ enlarged, interval up to cholo sock charge, see hegemony makes a great chai latte large adorned with stars and natal charts in redundant mental acuities the red carpet is a long shag the dominant culture is to imitate now in the past: founding fathers all in drag, “Tambor” in their voice get them dismissed from a lead role really fast, like white men explaining: “Nigga this is race craft” in their hood voice while three colored judges give a down vote in the back based off the audience’s choice, shit signed the partial jurist part-time, who learned the art of rhyme on coaxial time
5.
6.
ladies and gents, guys, dolls ladies and gents, guys, dolls ladies and gents, guys, dolls ladies and gents, guys, dolls ladies and gents, guys, dolls, non gender-conforming individuals and bathroom and genitalia sanctioning government systems: the master fader is on speed dial for each and every one of you to incorporate or dissociate, hitherto reframe centrality (bacchanal upload queues still processing, notwithstanding) now is the time to strike down burdens of small safe spaces in over-enlarged illegitimate claims of land sovereignty (jurisprudence is being co-produced with a large cash advance) you may canvass for the most bourgeoisie commissary if you understand the war of haplotypes will reach your doorstep eventually; the new climate will bring saltwater to every suburban lawn there are new words to this drought we will learn through emojis: the new hieroglyphics so ends this generation, raised on images and instant noodle passwords, where the party only ends when the power strip does when will we rediscover fire? and what will we call it?

about

is loosely defined as "the zone",
bottled and well-weathered electricity,
raw sauce un-spread
in a sextet of songs

blends and fades, in and out,
just as an impression can be gleaned,
not for lack of focus, simply at-will junctions
tapped in and written over a handful of days

these are quick ruminations to test
the mutual exclusivity of depth and speed,
sine waves on a knob,
trigonometrically writ, compressed and limited

as the Arch-Polemicist declares in the final number:
"the master fader is on speed dial, for each and every one of you to incorporate or dissociate".

~~~~~~~~~

credits

released April 3, 2019

beats by kató
raps by Rhys Langston

recorded, mixed, mastered by Ch. Davis at the Black Market Poetry Bureau of Internal Affairs, October 2018

photo by Salim Green
design by Rhys Langston

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Rhys Langston Los Angeles, California

From smoked salmon to freshwater microphones.

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