THURSDAY OCT 13, 2016
Show Me The Body
Show Me the Body is a sludgy trio of NYC natives who, with only two
EPs, have become fixtures of the city's underground scene. In 2016,
they capture the increasingly alarming state of a New York that is
rapidly attempting to eradicate the chaos they favor. Like their
friends Ratking, who are fellow members of Letter Racer collective,
SMTB's sound is as diverse as their environment, pulling from blues,
hip-hop, hardcore, and post-punk. "In some ways, Show Me the Body is
our way of community organizing, of getting people together," vocalist
Julian Cashwan Pratt told The Guardian. "Even if there's not one
message shared, there’s at least a commonly felt veracity, a commonly
felt aggression and feeling and spirit."
"Body War" is the band's latest homage to the city, four minutes of
discordant and grating noise. Banjo-playing Pratt spews guttural
verses like "I go so far, push so hard/ Just to live under this
monolith" against sharp stomping by drummer Noah Cohen-Corbett and
shredding from Harlan Steed, the band's wizard of a bassist. At a
recent show, the first whiff of Steed's opening bass line threw the
crowd into a frenzy. As audience members climbed onstage only to
immediately toss themselves back into the pit (or else be pushed back
by Pratt), SMTB’s faces each sneered into savage expressions,
seemingly unfazed by the mania. - Pitchfork
Show Me the Body is a sludgy trio of NYC natives who, with only two
EPs, have become fixtures of the city's underground scene. In 2016,
they capture the increasingly alarming state of a New York that is
rapidly attempting to eradicate the chaos they favor. Like their
friends Ratking, who are fellow members of Letter Racer collective,
SMTB's sound is as diverse as their environment, pulling from blues,
hip-hop, hardcore, and post-punk. "In some ways, Show Me the Body is
our way of community organizing, of getting people together," vocalist
Julian Cashwan Pratt told The Guardian. "Even if there's not one
message shared, there’s at least a commonly felt veracity, a commonly
felt aggression and feeling and spirit."
"Body War" is the band's latest homage to the city, four minutes of
discordant and grating noise. Banjo-playing Pratt spews guttural
verses like "I go so far, push so hard/ Just to live under this
monolith" against sharp stomping by drummer Noah Cohen-Corbett and
shredding from Harlan Steed, the band's wizard of a bassist. At a
recent show, the first whiff of Steed's opening bass line threw the
crowd into a frenzy. As audience members climbed onstage only to
immediately toss themselves back into the pit (or else be pushed back
by Pratt), SMTB’s faces each sneered into savage expressions,
seemingly unfazed by the mania. - Pitchfork
B L A C K I E
Fit Of Body
"Despite containing only five original tracks, Fit of Body’s long-awaited EP, Healthcare, covers a wide swath of territory, from sultry techno to understated hip-hop. The level of thoughtful variety reflects Fit of Body’s dedication to the past, from the Detroit underground to Atlanta’s favorite son Jermaine Dupri. Don’t get it twisted though: Healthcare may be an extremely mindful house record, but it’s the gorgeous production and timeless beats that make it a critical listen. The overt passion of the record isn’t surprising considering the qualifications of Fit of Body’s Ryan Parks. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone more dedicated to the local electronica scene than the Atlanta producer. When he’s not writing music, he’s busy running Harsh Riddims Blood Sucking Cassette Co. and releasing albums like 10th Letter’s killer Portals & Compasses LP. It’s a busy schedule, which is one of the reasons why Healthcare took so long to finish. (On top of it all, Parks somehow found the time to paint the album cover.) The post-punk rhythms that permeate the EP invoke Metal Box era PiL, but for the most part the EP finds Parks exploring funk through via the narrow lens of classic techno. It’s an interesting confluence of genre best represented by the album’s unexpected anchor, “770-997-2341.” The track’s incessant refrain of “Dial me, it’s been awhile” is initially nonchalant, but the insistent beat ratchets up the tension until all you can do is stare at your own phone and wonder at the abstraction of human relationships. In truth, “770-997-2341” shouldn’t work on Healthcare. I get it — juxtaposition, contrast, blah blah blah — but it still shouldn’t work. And yet what should disrupt the flow of the record instead grounds it in the realm of experimental expression and accents the smoothness of the rest of the EP. As a whole, Healthcare hinges on citrus-laced funk to balance out stringent percussion. Even the dreamy introspection of “Antonio Girl” utilizes oceans of reverb to invoke waves lapping at the sunset. While it’s not much of a departure from Fit of Body’s 2015 tape, Health is Wealth, or his 2016 12″ on CGI Records, it’s proof that Parks is willing to take risks as long as they accentuate his internal interpretation of Atlanta Overall, Healthcare works as a casually brilliant statement rendered all the more impactful by its cool delivery. It’s the kind of record you want bumping when you roll into the gas station before a night out, and the one you want on repeat when you’re headed back from the club. It’s easy to get lost in the nuts and bolts of the production, but forget the technicality and embrace the transcendent synths." -Immersive Atlanta
"Despite containing only five original tracks, Fit of Body’s long-awaited EP, Healthcare, covers a wide swath of territory, from sultry techno to understated hip-hop. The level of thoughtful variety reflects Fit of Body’s dedication to the past, from the Detroit underground to Atlanta’s favorite son Jermaine Dupri. Don’t get it twisted though: Healthcare may be an extremely mindful house record, but it’s the gorgeous production and timeless beats that make it a critical listen. The overt passion of the record isn’t surprising considering the qualifications of Fit of Body’s Ryan Parks. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone more dedicated to the local electronica scene than the Atlanta producer. When he’s not writing music, he’s busy running Harsh Riddims Blood Sucking Cassette Co. and releasing albums like 10th Letter’s killer Portals & Compasses LP. It’s a busy schedule, which is one of the reasons why Healthcare took so long to finish. (On top of it all, Parks somehow found the time to paint the album cover.) The post-punk rhythms that permeate the EP invoke Metal Box era PiL, but for the most part the EP finds Parks exploring funk through via the narrow lens of classic techno. It’s an interesting confluence of genre best represented by the album’s unexpected anchor, “770-997-2341.” The track’s incessant refrain of “Dial me, it’s been awhile” is initially nonchalant, but the insistent beat ratchets up the tension until all you can do is stare at your own phone and wonder at the abstraction of human relationships. In truth, “770-997-2341” shouldn’t work on Healthcare. I get it — juxtaposition, contrast, blah blah blah — but it still shouldn’t work. And yet what should disrupt the flow of the record instead grounds it in the realm of experimental expression and accents the smoothness of the rest of the EP. As a whole, Healthcare hinges on citrus-laced funk to balance out stringent percussion. Even the dreamy introspection of “Antonio Girl” utilizes oceans of reverb to invoke waves lapping at the sunset. While it’s not much of a departure from Fit of Body’s 2015 tape, Health is Wealth, or his 2016 12″ on CGI Records, it’s proof that Parks is willing to take risks as long as they accentuate his internal interpretation of Atlanta Overall, Healthcare works as a casually brilliant statement rendered all the more impactful by its cool delivery. It’s the kind of record you want bumping when you roll into the gas station before a night out, and the one you want on repeat when you’re headed back from the club. It’s easy to get lost in the nuts and bolts of the production, but forget the technicality and embrace the transcendent synths." -Immersive Atlanta