Thursday, June 19, 2008

Gregg Gillis does not have Attention Deficit Disorder. Girl Talk does. And his entire DJ (Don’t call me a DJ) career can be classified by the progression of his affliction from diagnosis, treatment and recovery. His debut album, Unstoppable, should have been called Unlistenable, where we heard a symptomatic DJ try to make sense out of jumbled, three second samples to barely conceivable beats that made everyone want to swallow their tongues. It was smart, but it was lacking in focus and therefore hard to comprehend, much like a stuttering child. Girl Talk sought help in the next album, Night Ripper where he treated the dyslexic cacophony and channeled its hyperactivity into more melodic juxtapositions where we could actually hear the samples this time. Some even long enough to exclaim, “No he DID NOT just put Biggie to Tiny Dancer!” Yet still just short enough to have us begging for more. Now the disorder has fully progressed into controlled chaos. And in its latent stages, still refusing to stay still for too long, Feed the Animals is like A.D.D. on Adderall. It’s trendy if you have it and everyone else wants it so they can take your drugs. Original mash ups, newer hooks, faster fades, ear friendly transformations with the same bounce around and off the wall sampling hip-hop, pop hits from the 80s and 90s, old school, new school, give me a mother fucking beat. Thank you may I have another? Listen for Busta with the Police, Britney with Air, Hot Chip with Cardigans circa Romeo and Juliet soundtrack, Roy Orbison, Chilli Peppers, Sinead O’Connor, Kelly Clarkson, TI, Luda, Mariah, UNK, Radiohead, Knife…Starting to sound like this generation's Sergeant Pepper album cover on play? That’s because it is. And incidentally, much like our quick-to-diagnose-with-A.D.D youth (Whoops! Hand over the Ritalin, kids) Girl Talk isn’t learning disordered, he’s musically bisexual. And so long as Billboard Top 40 hits and vinyl exists, here’s to musical exploration.

Get Feed the Animals here. And pay for it for god sakes. Musicians like this are a dying breed.