Psyko Steve Presents



Sun, July 14, 2013

Doors: 7:30 pm / Show: 8:00 pm

$10.00 - $12.00

Sold Out

This event is all ages

The birth of Anamanaguchi must have taken place in the middle of mankind's greatest sugar high. Oh, there could have been 'shrooms there too, but we're betting that it had more to do with loads and loads of pure cane sugar, swallowed in liquid, cubed, granulated or processed form, in copious amounts. It was Jolt soda, cake, ice cream, candy and everything else in between. It was on the sunniest of days and all colors were vibrant and searing. Everyone involved with the delivery and responsible for the creation of this new life-form was coming off of its greatest night of slumber ever and there was an open-ended world to shred and conquer. The rosy-cheeked little thing came out of the womb, was slapped on the ass by the jovial delivering doctor and started laughing hysterically, blowing disco ball kisses in between its unprecedented fits of joyous rapture. The band, an instrumental electronic band from New York, was drawn to Nintendo game consoles, arcade games and all of the plinking and high-score sounds that were coming out of them, ringing in its ears like magical coos. It immediately set out to write punishing and inspired music that would comprise a mixtape that would be the chosen composition of the sky to accompany every plane jumper, skydiver and parachuter. It's a little known fact that the second anyone takes a leap out of the open hatch of an airplane, thousands of feet above ground, for any recreational purpose whatsoever, the music of Anamanaguchi is suddenly blasting into the ears of those plummeting folks. It's louder and more exhilarating that any of us down here on the safe ground could ever imagine and it's a secret that those jumpers keep to themselves, having signed a binding Anamanguchi non-disclosure agreement before pulling the chute cord. The bronzed music was chosen for such an important placement, in part, because as those jumpers land on the run, often on a beach or an open field, the only thing they want to do is jump up and down and rage out with some freaky dance moves for 5-to-10 minutes. The music, as contractually obligated, continues on - at obscene volumes - for that amount of time and these people do their dances.
NYC via Florida bedroom rapper and ex-Claire's Boutique glitter-peddler Kitty Beckwith segues into the new year withThe Daisy Rage EP, songs that see her honing her cadence while offering another peek into the conflicted self-conscience of a young woman. She's growing up (now it's just Kitty), she moved to the Big City and she fell in love, and these timeless archetypes are discussed in a way that feels uncontrived and often unsure (but that's the charm). Also, her double-time is fierce. Boasting her new-found fierce double-time, instrumentals from her recent beau Hot Sugar, Greedhead affiliate Mike Finito, and more, as well as the arguably best verse of Das Racist-affiliateLakutis' career, the EP drops for free on January 29th.
An unforeseen breakout artist of 2012, Kitty's lo-fi, self-aware The Lizzy McGuire Experience, anchored by social network-ode "OK Cupid", was celebrated early on by the The New York Times, Rolling Stone, and The FADER. The 19 year-old Daytona resident unexpectedly found her name abuzz on the lips of some of the hip-hop world's most revered cognoscenti, as critics debated the her earnest approach to rap and the direction of music in general. The follow up, Haha, I'm Sorry, was another fragile iteration, offered more deliberately this time - standout collaboration from walking-blog-post Riff Raff on the track "Orion's Belt" turned yet more ears on Kitty, a person for whom the line between hobbyist and artist was rapidly blurring both for she and her audience.
Kitty's music is rap projected through a lens as legitimate as any other - she speaks to and on behalf of young people about love, lust, angst and underage drinking- the people to whom music is often the most poignant. With her internet-enhanced accessibility comes a requisite vulnerability, a widely relatable feeling that's generally absent in rap music. Her ability to embrace that trait instead of posturing among the unremarkable masses of aspiring rappers is what makes her special, a #rare unicorn traipsing across the rainbows of the blogosphere. Or something like that.
Venue Information:
The Rhythm Room
1019 E. Indian School Road
Phoenix, AZ, 85014