I mostly just listen to Gillian Welch, Ali Farka Toure, The Mars Volta and beats. Beats, beats, beats. I’m really lucky to have a circle of friends who make insanely good beats. I’ve been through a lot of computers in the past few years so nothing much survives, except recent beats. And youtube links to “More Than This.”
But shit, of course I check out rap. I may not respect hip hop “culture” much, but I fucking love rap, especially dope rap. People I recommend for rapping way better than me: The Wrecking Crew, Dice Raw, ANTHM, Paranom, Chance, Teddy Faley, Fresh Daily, Milo, and The Black OpEra.
Anonymous: No deadlines for anything, for nothing ???
Well phrased! We have a whole concept EP about that very paradox on the way, but we’ll never admit to it once it’s released. Rest assured, I’ll start running my mouth once anything is close to being done in my own name(s). Like for instance, we re-released a long lost, 2004 vintage Wombaticus Rex album, Been A Long Year. That happened, you can cop it for free.
I will say that pretty much anything I’ve threatened to release at any point in the past 5 years will be dropping before Christmas.
JUICEBOXXX: What producers are you working with lately?
Well, have you ever read a production credit for one of my songs? It goes: DJ Squid, Dr. Quandary and Louis Mackey, and that ain’t gonna change much. Unless it does. Being both polyamorous and prolific these days, I am working with a few new people. One of ‘em is a Vermont local, Luie la Hart.
I do listen to stuff, eventually. My answer will usually be “No,” but anyone can always feel free to submit beats to (I’m just kidding, obviously: I usually don’t answer emails, at all.)
518: When will you do more with Daimyo?
I know, right? What the fuck? That dude is pure mercury in human format, though. We’re aiming for a 2019 release date at this point, but it will eventually happen. Meanwhile, big thanks to Cult Classic Records for the support.
AKT: Where do you stand on 9/11? I have seen you write very hateful things about the Truth movement in the past. Have you recanted?
Questions like this make my fucking skin crawl. Recanted? Do you even subvocalize when you type shit like that, daug? Anyways, yes, I wrote a very blunt piece years ago about my low regard for single-issue activism and the empty echo chamber of any community united by belief. String Theory and Chaos Magick both suffer from the same problems, though, it’s not like your cause is special. My current answer to the litmus test question of “What do YOU think happened that day?” is clearly stated right here. Enjoy.
KILLARMY: What the FUCK is your problem? I’ve tried to talk to you a few times and you ALWAYS blow me off. Are you really that ARROGANT?
Yeah, and you’re really that boring.
CryptoFlow: Hey, I’m an upncoming rap artist from New England like you and I’m wondering what you usually charge for collab tracks and how that works, would love to build with World Around and what you do!
I really doubt this cat ever expected their email to be on my website, but that’s the risk you’re taking, boys and girls. (Please note that I’m mostly kidding, am routinely stunned & humbled by the depth of what people trust me with, and will respect the hell out of your confidentiality, past the point of enhanced interrogation techniques. Please also note that none of that applies to you if you’re a rapper.)
I’m finishing with this one because it’s worth saying in public: my verses generally cost approximately $NOBODY HAS FIGURED OUT HOW TO BUY ME YET. I’ve turned down a lot of money so far! I am fucking stubborn, far past the point of reason, and if I don’t like you, your approach, or your music, it is an open question as to whether I could actually be paid enough. Feel free to try! Science needs to know.
I can’t help but add this: I always pause when someone reps...New England.
That’s just weird. First of all, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine are completely full of people who would never, ever say those two words, even if they’re talking about football. That leaves three options, and none of them is Boston, because anyone who lives within 20 nautical miles of Boston is from the South Side, and they all want to fight you about it.
Three suspects, then: Massachutsetts, Connecticutt and Rhode Island, all of them among the dumbest names in the United States, full of excess letters and bad geography. Yet, even coke dealers from New Haven I know rep New Haven...then again, that’s a cool sounding name. Even people from Springfield, MA admit where they’re from. Definitely just rep where you’re from—and I’m guessing you’re not even from New England (“that’s a state, right?”) if you’re calling it that in the first place.
Try Vinnie Paz.
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I check into my “yohumpjones” email account approximately once per fiscal year, and today was an appropriate moment for that. Lo and behold, I’m still getting actual mail for the Dear Humpasaur gig. Here’s the most recent bumper crop of burning questions—a lot of those older ones, I won’t answer. Just being real.
Q: My testicles have pretty much retracted into my body. That’s bad, right? What should I do?
Normally, I’d give you legal disclaimers, such as how my multiple medical degrees aren’t legally recognized inside the United States, but let’s face it: if you’re asking a rapper about your testicles, there is no healthcare plan in your life story. It’s sad but it happens.
I’m going to give it to you straight: medically speaking, this shit is probably not good. What you’re dealing with here is an involuntary full retraction of your Cremaster muscle and there’s only one way to deal with that. Fortunately, my fellow doctor Matthew Barney has gone through the whole process and he created an instructional series to guide you through it. It’s called the Cremaster Cycle, it’s very easy to find on The Pirate Bay and it’s just a straightforward explanation of what you can expect. Good luck to you, buddy. Send me an email, keep me posted.
Q: Is Breakup Music basically Detox?
First of all, Detox jokes got old a long time ago. That’s not a good look. As for Breakup Music, it’s in the can, it’s just being tempered in the flames. We’re putting time in to make it cinema. When we announce the date you will definitely hear about it.
Q: Be real with me, are you DJ Squid AKA #DAUG?
Yeah, I’m DJ Squid. I’m also Dr. Quandary, Louis Mackey and Man Mantis. I’m also Shabazz Palaces. NEXT!
Q: What is your favorite sexual position LOL?
That’s basically like asking who the best rapper is. There’s no meaningful answer for that. This may come as news to a few of you, but the point of that whole sport is MOVING AROUND. So I recommend all of them, every time, as much as possible. And stop killing me with the dumb questions.
The current and probably permanent picture that I have up on Twitter is a still from The Drunk and On Drugs Happy Hour, which you should definitely go see. It’s the same team that did Trailer Park Boys, and as Louis Mackey pointed out, it’s a lot like Trailer Park Boys on LSD. It’s very, very good LSD, though.
Q: What is your favorite project you’ve done so far?
So far so far? Probably this next Algorhythms tape. Possibly Keep it Moist. My favorite individual track so far is Over the Horizon, which I did with Naturetone, who is both dope and Swiss.
Q: What happened to the video for “Promotional Gift” with Signifire? Will there be more tracks with Signifire?
Yes, I will definitely do more jams with that cat, but no, there was never actually a video for that cut. That was a summer 2012 in-joke, I’m over it now, I’ll spill the beans. Menino never actually threatened us and Homeland Security never forced Youtube to pull the video: there was just never any video. The simplest explanation always works: after all, that’s how you figured out I was DJ Squid, right? Thanks for playing. SQUIDTAPE!!!
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My man Lou asked for an annotated deluxe edition decoder ring for this one. Fair enough & here goes. This is part of a project I’m working on with Daimyo, who is awesome.
smartest thing I ever did was get elected President
...after Oprah sold me The Secret, it was effortless
Oprah Winfrey is a compelling mix of horseshit cynical sentimentality and actual progressive awesomeness, but her participation in the mass marketing of The Secret was an all-time low point. In related news, Bill Clinton collects like half a million dollars every time he shows up to slur his way through a charming speech. Being elected President is, all in all, smart. Wicked smart.
from first credit card to second car to second kid
to second term, just accept the risks, lesson learned
An imaginary spin along the Boardgame of Life, daug, that’s all. Sure, I wrote that before Barry got re-elected but it’s not the first prophecy I’ve been responsible for. I like to think I make it look easy.
in a quantum state watching how my songs relate
I see I lost my way but question if I want to change
stop and contemplate contributing to constant hate
my conscience weighs a ton, my body’s lost some weight
You see how I just let it go for four whole bars there, dude? Shit is crazy, right? At the time I was living in Springfield, Illinois, barely alive, on some Princess Bride shit, being Platonically nursed back to life by my personal Andre the Giant, the Asheville NC emcee Slick Nick. For the record, although my conscience still exceeds the weight limits for conventional international shipments, my neck has gotten a lot stronger since I wrote that.
and I’m not even complicated, I just want some steak
sick of watching bloggers praising photocopied fakes
Left jab: General Statements. It’s important to call it how you see it, but ask yourself: how valuable are specifics right now? If it’s calling out a human piece of shit like Alistair McAlpine, sure, let’s dig into some details. If we’re just talking rappers, though…
dropping names is grade school drama games
not afraid, plus I’m also not afraid to walk away...
Right hook: Evasive Action. It’s important to remind these poodles they don’t actually fucking matter once it’s time to, for instance, cook dinner, or drink a 12 pack of Sierra Nevada in a can, dude, in a motherfucking can.
any artist I mention is starved for attention
I don’t feed the trolls meat, I sharpen my weapons
This part, of course, is difficult to reconcile with any knowledge whatsoever of who I am in real life. I do, of course, cook and serve delicious and highly carnivorous meals for trolls of all persuasions and take great personal delight in the LULZ that ensue. This probably what threw Lou off in the first place, because he knows how I get after those first 12 cans.
smoke weed, roast beef and leak bacon juice
stay fresh, break bread and feed haters, too
your favorite chef’s a meth head, freebasing food
but if you like to eat, babe, I got a cheap date for you
When I wrote this, I thought I was just being all lyrical and shit but it turns out to be, like most anything else I’ve done to myself in the past decade, eerily prophetic. I have since become obsessed with cookery and meal presentation and maximizing minimal budgets is a martial art I enjoy practicing.
main feature, my cuts are straight ether
not enough to launch my stuff past the gatekeepers
from first local shows to open road to breaking bones
and getting burned, gotta take control, lesson learned
Really, I might as well start doing 8 bar quotes because I am so sick of even listening to my own....alright, nevermind, let’s do this. There is a certain amount of jaded whining involved with this song in addition to a snarky critique of approaching indie rap as a business plan.
all the rookies know that booking shows is hella easy
later on they change their song to something else completely
I’m not sure, in retrospect, precisely what the fuck was going on here. Was I just super grumpy? Yeah, probably. Did I stick with some incoherent rapper shit just because I liked the rhyme? Also highly probable. In reality, of course, booking shows is hella easy and playing them is awesome.
...we either bitch and complain or live with the pain
...you either fix our mistakes or give in and wait
I flipped my script from cynical hate to Infinite Grace
I know my life is slipping away, that’s why I’m living today
You know what? I don’t know, either. Am I reprising the Oprah mockery with a sarcastic, Reverend Run Wisdom level inspirational speech that you should hate yourself for taking seriously? Or can I overcome my own reflexive cynicism and actually give people good life advice despite myself? Stay tuned!
Many fuzzy nothings have been written about how great cats and dogs have it, but you know how it is out here in the civilized world. People talk a lot about world peace and protecting children, too. People don’t want to think too much about whether their pet animals have affection for them or just conditioned responses, but you have to wonder, right? How many thousands of years has their beautiful holographic DNA heritage been primarily shaped by human captivity now? Furthermore, why is everything on this planet so fucking ugly when you spend any time thinking about it? I mean....fuck.
Maybe language is the problem; maybe we’re sick. Maybe you should change how you come home at night. Maybe you should take off your shoes and any heavy clothing and get down on the floor—all of you, as much as possible. Maybe you will come to find that involves laying down, getting down on a level playing field with your pet animals—your cats, really, because I don’t care about your dogs, folks—get down with your cats and hang out with them. Get down off your feet and stop thinking.
Of course it’s contrived, of course it’s pointless, but those are exactly the sick, civilized thoughts you need to try and let go of. Maybe you have dishes to do, maybe your roomates fucked up something trivial and enraging since you were gone, but those are exactly the mundane, domesticated loops you need to turn off, just for two or three sweet minutes. Maybe it’s possible to think of nothing except what you’re actually experiencing, breathing in your perfect broken body and lying on the floor with your cats. Maybe it’s even easy.
Of course it can’t last, but that’s not the point, not today. It can be cultivated, it can be touched. It’s not a hippie fantasy, it’s not remotely religious, and it’s not something I can make a rap song about, neither...although I do keep trying. And I keep forgetting, too, but I’m guessing you can relate to that much. I am often stunned, paralyzed, by the extent of brain damage and ritual madness that passes for human culture. I don’t know how else to put it: almost 200 little governments, all batshit insane, dangerously inept, and lost in idiot feedback loops of their own doctrine and propaganda, from North Korea to whatever the hell passes for Valhalla in Tampa Bay these days. It would be funny if they didn’t, you know, keep killing people.
That’s a horrible fact, but shit, most of them are. And they’re all gonna be there for awhile, too. Emotions are brutal, but they wash over us. Our thoughts are way more persistent and harder to shake. They are also rat bastard traitors, but I’m guessing that’s not news to any of you. I could throw in a billion more references and ideas here—STEM CELL BACON #DAUG COME ON—but that’s all gotta go, too. Tonight, now, as soon as possible.
I am grateful to live with an animal who never lets me forget she has deep, abiding beef with the human race. When I thump myself unto the floor, this critter sees things very simply: she has been handed a valuable opening and must move immediately. Teeth, claws, fur, laughter. This is, all things considered, probably better than meditation.
Mundane tasks await. My roomate hasn’t cleaned up his own puke for 48 hours now, but it’s cool, I love him. My track record is not stellar, either. I was curious to see how long it would go, that was obviously a mistake and I’m hitting the bleach once I get this little ditty finished up. I can’t help but think that a smarter animal just would have left.
Get your wilderness in whenever and wherever you can. The world needs you strong and the world needs you feral.
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