Real1 (Enzo Amore) – “Phoenix”

Oooooooh, Enzo Amore.  I legit loved Enzo and Big Cass, I really did.  They were an oasis of silly catch phrases, off-the-wall humor and most of all fun in a WWE era that’s often not terribly fun to watch.  Sure, neither of them were technical marvels in the ring, but they had personality, dammit, and personality goes a long way in the world of professional wrestling.  Amore was easily the best promo guy in the entire company and together Enzo and Cass were giving the New Day some stiff competition for the title of WWE’s most entertaining active tag team.

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Diapsiquir – A.N.T.I. (End All Life Productions, 2011)

NECRO006As an unfortunate byproduct of growing up in the asshole of the Midwest, I live in a city, but I’ve never truly experienced The City. I’ve spent pretty extensive amounts of time in places like Los Angeles, Chicago and Minneapolis, but I’ve never fully immersed myself in the everyday chaos that is living in the clutches of of a wasteland dominated by skyscrapers and surrounded on all sides by unforgiving concrete and steel. I’ve never lived in that grotesque, hyper-active human funk that I imagine city life to be; I’ve only been a long-term guest at best, a lame-ass tourist at worst. Fortunately I can live vicariously through Diapsiquir’s A.N.T.I., an album that epitomizes what I imagine existence in the bowels of urban Hell to be.

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Death Grips – The Money Store (Epic, 2012)

To say that the noise-rap trio known as Death Grips sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the vapid ranks that comprise the average modern major label roster is probably the understatement of the century.  Yet somehow the Sacramento, CA-based group managed to ink a deal with Epic Records, bringing their utterly unique brand of confrontational hip hop to the masses with The Money Store, the first of two albums set to be released in 2012.  I don’t typically look to the majors for such a high level of craftmanship, let alone innovation, so it is a complete shock to the system hearing Death Grips’ singular brand of musical mind-fuck coming from that often dunderheaded corner of the music biz.
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