. issue III : iii .
When I first heard the word meme it was under Noam Chomsky’s satchel (which was mouthing Richard Dawkins gear anyhow), all these intellectual suffocations of prose and the lyricism of layman lapping. (Undergraduate collegiate activities withina four-year university are a luxurious poolside ivory tower.) Meme meant a better definition for the phrase “fact of experience” without the layered distinction between a priori and a posteriori to messy about the water (without knowledge beforehand and with knowledge beforehand, respectively, but more like telling a time traveler about a smartphone; you cannot begin by explaining that smartphones are cellphones, you’ll have to inevitably explain telephone, tell steps). A “Meme” was something tangible that could be transmitted between people and was only through experience: essential human beings game play competition with and out of benefit of knowledge.
Wikipedia says A meme (pron.: /ˈmiːm/; meem)  is “an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture.”  A meme acts as a unit for carrying cultural ideas, symbols, or practices that can be transmitted from one mind to another through writing, speech, gestures, rituals, or other imitable phenomena. Supporters of the concept regard memes as cultural analogues to genes in that they self-replicate, mutate, and respond to selective pressures.  You know memes because of the internet nom de lanyard that has hung round the neck of the idea of a comedy-pyramid (see “MEME GENERATOR,” “know your meme,” and other simple Google archaeology). A comedy pyramid is the idea of satire and parody which, by its derivative communal aspects, brings about an extremely subtle variant of representation. Another way of saying this is parallel universe theory at its most basic: because of the number of people within a shared experience there are also as many universes available within your current dimension, or, More is More. So, you know memes because memes have been a way for you to share both information and models.
Which is to say that you know memes; you’ve known memes all your life. You love memes, you really love memes. Memes, memes, memes, how’d’ya likes ‘em, now dah ya like ‘em.
Nathan Keeys and Marcos Eduardo Da Silva Garcia (complemented live by performance bassist Ryan Beans) have created textured dioramas of sound memes that echo dancing feet. I can see the strands of this tapestry but the tactile sense of the fabric as a whole renders my intellect inert, primordial reptilian movement and autonomic nervous system chasis stasis non withstanding. For some reason, shuffle always enables “Past Crush” to blare siren: the formula remains constant through the collection, the meat freezer of barbed hooks. Instantly inducting, leading the listener along, this is a U2 album (Pop, Zooropa), a Chromeo record (clean production 80’s nods but that’s more Women than the EP), SO MANY things I have loved before and will love again, and making the nods identifiable to my own bouncing chin recognition is half the pleasure. The sense of space and the rhythm, the Irish mysticism, the quaff of disco, Z104 in NoVA or Q92 BLUE82 around Nineteen Ninety Seven. PM Dawn said it best: “Set adrift on memory bliss of you.” All at once I’m awash in a crossing of timeline; Smurf Mountain is a Volcano, 909 separate Phish concerts, Night at the Roxbery is just a Funny or Die video without repeats or a cinematic foray. None of these references mean anything, but I am constantly watching good times with something I love and the eroding sands may ozymandhandle my own vision and so forth as I enjoy Underwater Seacreatures. In fact, in my idiotic blindness I googled and gathered an entirely new collection of their works entitled Women. The only reason I’m not reviewing Women right now is because I haven’t even begun to listen to it the way I have poured over Underwater Seacreatures’ EP in the little time between the sharp rush that was “Past Crush” absolutely sending ‘em into a Ratatouille seizure of FLASHBACK in the out-of-body sense.
Though, on reflection, I will say “Blind Sight” is a lovely precursor to Women. The production crispness showcases that comparability to boombox hiphop (that RUN DMC Sarah McLaughlin crossover story sidebar is worth a look into, while I’m tangelo coastal). The band themselves have admitted to a singularly 80’s vibe, and the release sophomores the way any catalogue does, B-sides in sheer anticipation get pouring and production the first album hinted toward. But, as with any wise fool, the formula has begun to break mold from the first, inevitably piecing together fossil by fossil the relic hunting of inspiration, motivation, and reservation. (The band themselves, what am I saying. These musicians.)
“This Grll” is almost this pinnacle beauty (not a plastic-flavored bottle), this bathosphere that Underwater Seacreatures exhales, that “Past Crush” haunts and signals my cells. Modern Humanist’s “Speak Up” remix is the close second siren to dash against rocks all night long train roll stylo. (MmmmmMmmmmMmmmmmMmmm. Does anyone remember Campbell’s Meatball Alphabet Soup?) But, yeah, I’m listening to this quite a bit and if you like a nice techno slow jam, you should be too, too solid flesh melt: compress city blocks and the docks between gears and dreams.
by Perkus Tooth