Willie Isz are interviewed online in the first free digital download copy of HHC Digital. Click HERE to download / Read an extract below…
Let’s get this out of the way now: It’s like we’ve fallen through a rip in the space-time continuum and emerged into some not- quite-other place, where everything’s the same but not really. Where Georgia and Pennsylvania both exist, but instead of being separated by vast swathes of everyman USA, they’ve become cross-woven into a mythical third: Georgiavania; a place where machine music can sound like ghoulish castles, and where reality finds itself stitched through with the residue of long-digested comic books, their spirit-creatures buzzing in your ear. A place where ‘80s shoe-gaze rock’s glacial guitar slabs exist, sure, but rather than being confined to some dusty, black-trench-coat past – the half-remembered food of some imaginary John-Cusack-charismatic-loner’s orange-fuzz headphones – it’s here and now, knitted contemporaneously into southern bounce, Prince and Bowie – like some winged, woolly cow with sheep/pterodactyl DNA.
Lest we avoid the elephant in the room, this is, more to the point, a place where a renowned Goodie Mob-ster can collaborate with Lex Records’ conceptual-plunge-poolist producer du jour. And where the fruit of that collaboration, for all its apparent defying of rules – geographic, generic, common-sense – can find itself obeying the one rule that truly counts in music: that it gets you in the kishkas and stays there; the butterfly in your gut.
But, as we said, this is like a fall through a rip in the space-time continuum, and we’re not talking about Cee-Lo Green and Danger Mouse as Gnarls Barkley. Nope, we’re talking about what happens when lightning strikes twice and another, slightly more gravelly Goodie Mob-ster teams up with a subsequent generation of Lex-signed conceptual-plunge-poolist. This is what happens when Khujo Goodie comes up against Jneiro Jarel’s freedom principle. This, you see, is Willie Isz.