SugarSweet Ax‘s Ice Cream Crush is equally confounding to both the eyes and the ears. Like Rebecca Black’s Friday but without any discernable form of melodic structure or progression.
Blending live footage of a snow-enshrouded NYC with CGI animation over a frenetic soundtrack by Pilotpriest, The Dream by filmmaker Christian Haberkern tears through a frantic, nonsecquitor vision of subconscious distress. But what does it mean?
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Scruffage is spread. This growing trend among American youth is not some innocent, victimless high. It’s a highly-contagious parasitic infection that changes human physiology at the most basic facial hair level, transforming young men and women into cantankerous, chain-smoking, rail-riding hobos forever addicted to the simple freedom of the open rail, harmonica solos, and baked beans cooked in a can.
Repeat after me: ohm, ohm, ohm. Good, now continue chanting as you reflect upon the visage of two puppets as they recite the html code of a transcendental website in H(TM)L5 – Or The Longest Mantra Ever. Keep it up and you’ll be rubbing elbows with extra-dimensional beings on a higher plane of consciousness in no time.
Yes David, this is real life. This really happened last May at the Infrasound Festival when Tipper took the stage, backed by Android Jones‘ visuals.
Youth isn’t always wasted on the young. That carefree age of budding love and boundless horizons is captured exquisitely by filmmaker Wissam Abdallah in his electronica-infused pilgrimage through the world’s biggest, boldest, and wildest music festivals.
Performance art of the highest caliber is that which leaves the audience stunned, speechless, and wondering, "Lol, da fuq did i jus watch?" Here is one such example from Natalia Sliwowska.
Layering dozens of asynchronous Gifs onto his digital canvas, Johnathan Gillie creates a hyper-kinetic allegory for our overly-stimulated, technology-saturated modern lifestyles.
Mixing a manic first person prelude with a grotesquely deformed claymation style reminiscent of Adam Jones’ work for Tool, animator Sunshaku Hayashi delivers a hypnotizingly frantic story of police brutality, death, and zombied rebirth. And how to make all of it out of little balls of clay.
"Dude, you sure you’re ok to drive? Your pupils look a little dilated" ranks among the top three things nobody wants to hear as the third blotter of acid kicks in—directly between, "Please bend of over the examination table and try to relax" and "Sir, step out of the vehicle right meow."