Monday: Get into your Work and Clothes

Inspired by music video: Chinese Man feat. lots of other folks – Get up.

Alarmclock. For, like, the fifth time. Cause snoozing is an actual lifestyle. You look at the clock: 7 AM. Aaaaaargh. Mondays.

Oh, the pain! You want to get out of bed, you really do, cause working is relatively cool, but … It’s just so difficult, you know? It’s like your soul wants to get up, but your body is just not buying it. These legs just feel like lead. And it’s so warm here, you know? Here in my Oh So Cosy Soft-Skinned Bed. So warm and comfortable and … safe. Unlike the cold, harsh, industrious world out there. But so, whether you like it or not, your body is still in Weekend Mode.

So you know it’s time to pull out the big guns: them fluffy, creepy potheads of Chinese Man. You pick up the remote, point it towards your barely-used retro stereo, and let the music slowly sink in … Get up, get up. Yep. There it goes. You’re starting to feel some movement in the legs.

Get up, get up, you lazy lout. Reminds you of your mom back in high school. “Get up, get up, you lazy lout, get into your work and clothes.” Yes. Let’s do this. Get up, dude. We gotta suit up, then clock in and go to work. And before you know it, you’re out of the bed, using both those feet again. Feeling the cold, hard winter-y floor. You’re up! Yes! You made it! And you pose like that guy from Ratatouille, that useless red-haired kid who sucks at his job, while screaming “Let’s do this thing!“, and you’re off, into the world. Into the big bright beautiful world.

Of course, this doesn’t work on Fridays.

Director: Fred & Annabelle

Chinese Man – Escape

There are goals. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.  This is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. You’ve worked so hard for this: Escape. This is it. Leaving the wretched misery, the narrowmindedness, those intense moments of purely empty stomach aches. The ultimate way to transcend the hazy, blurry, yet self-sustained default Western boredom that seems to fuel us all. But misery no mo’! Romantic adventures here I come! And to think this all started with a cheap Paint-like TV commercial, that you just happened to stumble upon that one time you could not not babysit the neighbor’s elderly cat, who was once again being her blind old clumsy self by frantically jumping up and down the living room, switching the TV on by mistake (or was it, a mistake?), and out of the corner of your eye you caught this gleamy image of a planet far far away full of palmtrees, a beautiful sunset and naked humanlike supermodels all over the sand, as if they were put there, just for you. Waiting, for you. Wanna get away from it all? The sound of the narrator’s voice. Like a magician who just popped in your mind, who instantly understands your most immediate creative needs. We offer you: Escape. At first you assumed it was nothing. One of those daily pop commercials that are trying to sell you Thailand, or worse, The Philippines, just for those few days you didn’t have to wander around like a robot. Romantic adventures. So you signed up. And here it is. 20 years later. The destruction of mankind. And you set sail for a better place. A new place, perhaps. A colony thing. Wanna get away from it all? Yes please. Three. Two. One.

Director of MV: Fred & Annabelle

L’Orange – Man of the Night (ft. Erica Lane)


Well, I remember my first encounter with the devil. I remember wine. And cigarettes. And way too much free time. I’d had a jazz-night that night. A lone one, that is. Ah yes, my first encounter with the devil. He came before me in a moment of utter boredom. No video game, travel or gossip activity could guide me through this one. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was boredom that would last forever. Existential boredom, that’s what so-called smart people call it. It’s some kind of imposed apathetic boredom infused with a touch of mental helplessness and a raw cherry on top (and it ain’t no chemical cherry either). Anyhoo… It’s a virus that’s been going around. Ah yes, the devil’s charming ways to manipulate you and your thoughts. He appears in front of you first as a fluffy slightly “off” feeling, then as a giant nicotine cloud, and finally as a woman clothed in a black silk dress so sexy you’ve lost all control over your breathing skills. Foolishly, I try to follow, but I fumble and fall behind. The first reflection of the devil inside you is when you drop your dreams, and you welcome him into your heart. Cause the devil works in mysterious ways. Sexy, but mysterious. He’s like the full moon really. Raw. Pure. Real. A living dead thing. But hey, there’s some good news for us bored people … Yolo!


Director of MV: Jay Brown


Al’Tarba – Let The Ghosts Scream


So you see this guy walking along a deserted road. Knocking on some hotel’s doors. And you think, nice, this is gonna be the modern version of the Hotel California. You know, that hotel from which you can never leave. Cause, well, the beat’s kinda creepy. But instead it’s not. Creepy. Just your regular party. With your regular experimentalists. And their regular party drugs. Cause, let’s face it, do you really know how to enjoy a party without the right kind of pill? No, you do not. So yeah, just a party vid, really. … But is it, though? A party vid? See, that’s the thing with creepy songs. They require creepy vids. And, damn, this one must have cost an awful lot of pig’s blood. Look, that’s what brain damage looks like. Yep, there he goes. He’s on a roll. Laughing his ass off. This is not a party vid at all! On the contrary, this is some very educational shit. Enjoy. I did. And kids, remember that some candies make your neurons dance. In a chaotic kind of way. Sometimes creepy.

Director of MV: Yoann Vellaud


Wax Tailor ft. Voice – The Games You Play


When I was a kid we used to play a game. Let the games begin. Let’s mix up hip hop with jazz, funk and classical samples. What you get is: playing games with different genres, or, as some like to call it, experimental hip hop. I think you know the rules of our game. Rules? You mean the conventional today’s society-expects-this-and-that-of-you-rules? Those rules? Those useless, irrational and purely based on conformity rules?? While you be acting macho, I try and switch it up. Oh. Oh, I see. You mean those games. My bad. I see the games you play, and the traps you lay. Yes, those games are indeed very obvious to the average female. But I let you play them anyway. That’s life, ain’t it? I do what I do, and you do whatever it is you do. I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do. It’s like society really. Your world is make-believe. Bam! Girl power in this dude’s face. Yes… Yes… Any female knows the type of guy you speak of. The I’m-just-gonna-make-this-girl-mine-and-it’s-in-the-bag type of guy. The otherwise useless guy. Take away his charm around women and what’s left is … some unknown guy. Well now, you’ve been faking the funk since the beginning. “Faking the funk”. Awesome alliteration there. Gotta use that line in my day-to-day communication with assholes. But okay. That game, you mean. I thought you meant the whole society-faking-democracy-game. Though… if you think about it, you could imagine society as your regular asshole… I mean, they do seem to share the same qualities. Just sayin’.


Director of MV: Tenas


Al’Tarba – Dusty Signal


The record’s playing. A David Uzochukwu-like setting: the attic with your typical dust and sand in the mornings. I can’t stand it – you’re running around. Oh, you mean the footsteps of the girl up there? The mentally tortured boyfriend. The depraved girlfriend. Smoking doesn’t help. The whiskey wasn’t enough. A blunt didn’t cut it. We’re gonna need some white around here. There’s your typical ID. How many cards like those you can’t find after a party. It’s like, jeez guys, keep ‘em in your pocket, will ya. Anywho – the effects kick in. Perfectly illustrated by the sudden overdose of acrogym. Yes, of course we’re gonna have your usual sex. I can’t stand it – you’re running around. And then there’s your usual playing around in the market place. I’m so happy. Like, for real. But we’ve quiet down now. Where’s the rest? And, oh, for that matter, where’s my girlfriend? And where did all the colours go? Small panic attack. You’re running around. Breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphh–h-h-h—breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphop—breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphop-breakdance/hiphop-breakdance-dance—. Oh, there she is. Now, where did I leave my happiness?


Director of MV: Laïkeu Fool