Kicking off the nine-track compilation, ‘Paradise’ is a pissy little jingle about transcendental nihilism and the cosmic metempsychosis of the indentured serfs of the hospitality industry.
“I’ve invented fake news as a genre of music,” Liddiard describes the closing track “Maria 63”.The song takes aim at the once-marginalized alt-right conspiracy theories that now seem to be a driving force behind the rise of fascism in global politics. “It’s about a Mossad agent traveling to Buenos Aires to assassinate Maria Orsic, a Nazi witch who telepathically got the blueprints for warp drive engines from aliens,” Liddiard shares.
Braindrops overflows with compelling sounds and visions that reflect the often dark and fractured reality of life on planet Earth as we hurtle toward environmental and social decay at a frighteningly rapid clip.
Liddiard’s own description of Tropical Fu*k Storm’s sound is nearly as interesting and evocative as the music itself. He describes the LP’s title track as “Fela Kuti in a car crash,” and talks of creating a sonic atmosphere that “sounds like chloroform smells” for “Maria 62”.
A recurring theme concerns the various ways the human brain can be manipulated and controlled for exploitative gain. The bracing “The Planet of Straw Men” is a study of human behaviour inside the social media comments section, a place where otherwise reasonable people are seen gleefully engaging in psychotic chest-thumping rhetoric. Erica Dunn’s “Who’s My Eugene?”contemplates a more personal example of predatory mind control.
Listening to Braindrops is a jarring and exhilarating experience, full of pulsating grooves, black humour, dissonant experimentation, and unsettling dystopian plot-lines – an unrelenting work, from an unrelenting musical ensemble.