Scenarios for listening to King Tuff's new album 'The Other', courtesy of King Tuff
Enter the weird and wonderful world of King Tuff.
Published: 8:29 am, April 26, 2018
Earlier this month, King Tuff released his new album ‘The Other’ via Sub Pop. But how should I listen to it, we hear you ask? You could just load up Spotify, sure, or you could do any and all of the things listed below, to get the Very Best Experience Possible. From sunrise adventures to exotic camping, via hanging out in a carpark and building a house on a fried egg - Kyle Thomas (aka King Tuff) talks through his ‘scenarios for listening to ‘The Other’’. (If the only one you can do is drink orange juice after brushing your teeth, you have our permission to give it a swerve. Or y'know, use your imagination.)
You awake in the blue hour before sunrise, when the world is glowing with the last traces of sapphire moonlight. You are next to a small, cold stream. You position yourself horizontally over the quick water and submerge only your cherubic face. You feel as though you are entering a silver mirror, the cold glass envelopes you, and you become the person looking back at you. The bubbles bouncing off your ears contain this song.
You are driving down a dirt road along the pacific coast in a beat up old convertible, hand painted with emeralds and dancing strawberries. There’s a light misty drizzle coming off the ocean, but you don’t care about your seats getting wet. You want to be wet. The tall pines on either side create a tunnel and you zoom through it like a sharp green cobra through a rabbit hole, every hair on your bod standing at attention.
Thru The Cracks
You are loitering with all your best friends in some dusty ass parking lot. You spot an eagle overhead and can feel the wind from its majestic wings. The ground opens up and you all tumble down into a subterranean womb. You lay there amongst the stalagmites telling each other everything you were always too shy to say. Then you pass around a jug full of crystalline cave water and get drunk on life.
You are some form of alien, exploring New York City for the first time. You kind of look like a mix between blue-green algae and a baby lamb. A sketchy looking man in a trench coat approaches. He presents you with a pair of headphones and presses play. You look down and you are wearing constellations on your wrists, standing in dogshit. "Welcome to Earth" the man says as he bites into a big juicy hot dog, pink liquid exploding from the bun.
You are in a soft yellow room with all of your ex-lovers. You are all still in love with each other and you are making a grand feast. There is a prismatic array of fruits, piles of jewel-like candies, mason jars of ancient purple wine, and the best macaroni and cheese you ever had in your dang life. You lose your virginity 30 times that night.
Birds Of Paradise
This song takes place the first time you ever woke up and brushed your teeth and then went downstairs and drank a big glass of orange juice. The bitter reaction on your tongue, the surprise of life smacking the inside of your little rosy cheeks. You do a half-naked dance, half shock, half delight, in celebration of life being so unpredictable and new, a true spicy moment. In later years you still sometimes mix OJ and toothpaste, trying to feel the rush of that instant once again.
Circuits In The Sand
You build a house on top of an over easy fried egg. You live a very gentle life, always with a lingering fear of breaking the yolk and you and all of your possessions being engulfed. One day the mailman comes by and accidentally drops an envelope containing your drivers license renewal form. As if in slow motion, the corner of the envelope pierces the thin sulphuric skin of the yolk sending your whole life into a bath of yellow goo. You live out the rest of your days trying to stay afloat and gasping for air. It is oddly delicious tho.
You are a great horned owl perched atop the tip of a colorful old temple in India. The moon is bigger than you’ve ever seen it before, half orange with blue-grey craters, like a spotlight in the sky. The robotic hum of a dragonfly zips around your little pointed ears and you do that sweet thing where you rotate your head in a full 360 degree circle. You then leap into a full-on divebomb and snatch up a small blue temple mouse. But you will not eat him. You place him on a man playing harmonium on the street, who puts him in his pocket, a new friend. He thanks you and repays you with his archaic nocturnal song.
You are in LA buying fruit from a lady wearing a big straw hat on the corner. Piña, coco, melón, mango, naranja, sandía, with limon, chile and salt. She hands the bag and smiles. A big, beige lowrider drifts casually by. You eat the fruit, dripping with seductive energy, and are transported to Tower Records circa 1994. You repurchase every one of your favorite CD's from when you were a kid and proceed to spank your own ass with glee.
No Man's Land
You are living in a tent somewhere on the Olympic Peninsula. You wake up in the morning to the sound of elk stomping around outside. You go out to see what they want. They ask for cereal with milk. Preferably Frosted Flakes. You all eat breakfast together and they go off to play in the moss. You spend the rest of the day tuning into your solar powered radio, trying to get a signal, but all you hear are the haunted cracklings of lost America.
King Tuff’s new album ‘The Other’ is out now. He tours the UK this August.
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