Apr 15, 2019
My Secret Santa gifts in the Webcomic Land discord server. Experimenting with an art direction.
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My Secret Santa gifts in the Webcomic Land discord server. Experimenting with an art direction.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Swire the orc rogue-skater, as drawn by @swordzartonline ! Look out for him in my fantasy bartender story @afterthefantasy !
Bust a Groove
The rhythm action genre has seen dramatic evolution in just two decades of existence. Before players could pretend to play in a band or perform realistic motion-tracked dance routines, there was a time when rhythm action games required regular button presses to simple music cues on regular game controllers. While the first game to popularize this type of game was Sony's Parappa the Rapper, this simple setup ended up being the foundation for the Bust a Groove series, developed by Metro Corporation for the PlayStation. This series, with easy-to-learn rhythm action mechanics and a focus on fluid graphics and modern dance music, was an impressive showcase for the PlayStation's media capabilities and a pioneering rhythm action game series.
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Sexy sketch of demon Damon by @missionfailure ! Thanks a bundle!
My robot OC Pusher dropping in to wreck some 'bots. Drawn by @lunaroatmealart
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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XO BY KIBA WALKER ALBUM REVIEW BY DEFT BECK
It's not too often that an album comes across my desk. Because the desk I have was stolen from a Goodwill and all of my albums that I haven't ground up and thrown to the seagulls at the pier for some meal variety are digital now. Still, the visual metaphor comes across just as strongly, and serves as the best way to set the stage for another great review. Kiba Walker's new album XO is all the best of RuPaul and a chocolate fountain with all the chocolate replaced by chocolate wine. It's a hard driving, full of club bumping beats that manage to manifest into reality and take control of the car I'm driving while writing this. I'm going to take you track by track through this album so that you have a friend and that you don't feel as alone at the party that this album would theoretically be played at. Do or Die Do or Die is not only the opening track of the album but also my favorite and least favorite things to do. Kiba orders us to dance with him while ensuring you go down with him at the same time. You the dancer are implored to dance despite whatever theoretical haters are planning your demise through their feeble slays. But you have the rhythm and the curves on fleek, so you have the high ground (read: high portion of the dance floor) Black Gold After asking us if we're ready, Kiba takes us on another Gagaesque odyssey in Black Gold. Amidst the music and the dicks is a further exploration of the nature of being ice cold toward your fellow clubbers. Kiba's fierce delivery is like a cobra from the Reno desert about to strike upon this lizard who is just trying to review an album, please don't hurt him. This song epitomizes the virtues of black gold, possibly the most on point mineral that has ever been craved. Love/Hate Four letters of two different arrangements have never quite expressed the sharp emotions of this song. Haters are further vocally eviscerated by Kiba's hot fire, the likes of which melts his black gold into a monument of pure style. I feel it all in my brain, Kiba, and while I am quite tired, I feel wide awake. If Gaga's career were even more dead than it already is, this song could shake her grave. Ghosts Ghosts takes more of an pop ballad direction than the preceding tracks on the album. Though, none of the previously established edge is gone. Spirits are channeled through Kiba's driving vocals in the chorus, and are further conducted by the featured vocals by Josh Winchester. Harmonies in the final portions of the song synergize the sorrow of the track. I would definitely dance to this in a haunted house. Hella Not only does this song sound like a Swedish woman's name, but its crunk beats could reach all the way to the Netherlands. Kiba raps in baritone to start before going back to the Nicki Minaj-esque rapid fire delivery. The pop bridges and choruses serve as glossy transitions between the dark energies of the verses and beats elsewhere. I'm sure that Hella of Sweden would greatly appreciate this song as she dances in her likely European club of choice. Interlude This song reminds me of when I couldn't get signal on a stormy night out in the countryside. I was just coming back from an illegal rave in the cornfields of northern NH when the rain started to splatter upon my windshield. The heavy droplets almost smothered my car and swallowed everything in my vision. All I could hear was the sound of miniature aquatic explosions against tempered glass and the pounding of my anxious heart. All that gave me solace was the fact that this sentence is over and it's time for the next song to be reviewed. Flames Speaking of spitting hot fire, this song is more like Kiba is breathing fire. I feel bad for the Johnny in this song, because despite the cash that he purportedly has, it is likely much less in comparison to the talent riches that Kiba Walker is clearly demonstrating here. With dubstep wubs and subwoofer throbs, I couldn't help myself. I involuntarily whooped out loud and slapped the hot electric stove where I was hearing my ramen. Only then did I realize what it meant to be burned. Search and Destroy The slower beats of this track remind my feeble lizard brain of classic Justin Timberlake. Though his vocals never got so intense as Kiba's. The beats are in full effect here, filling every channel of my Amazon wireless headphones. You might as well go and search for your five copies of FutureSexLoveSounds and destroy them, yes, even the one your grandmother gifted you by accident, because it is not necessary anymore. By then, all of your mistakes will have been undone. Free Darealsound comes in on Free; Sampling Paranoia Agent, DRS evokes memories of Lovesic, casual guitars accompanying this vocals before Kiba sings in a language I have forever recognized but never have understood. I suppose my counselor was right; my internet diploma in Google Translate is of no use here. Still, I am glad that the tortured Gemini of the rap portrayed here has been set free. Nujabes would be proud, if he wasn't already in the tags of this review. The Boy Who Died Too Soon Another story to tell: I was once in a hospital waiting room. While I was there, I went to a vending machine. They only had candy bars and chips that tasted like barbeque cardboard pieces. Still, I inserted my Benjamin and picked what I wanted. As I was quietly gorging myself, a nurse outside was consoling a mother whose child had just stopped existing as soon as I ran out of ideas for this sentence. TBWDTS evokes some of the same sorrow I felt then, with vocals that remind me of the best of Green Day's more somber work. Though I didn't feel as bloated after listening to this. Wish I could say the same about Dookie. Eulogy In the spirit of good reviews like this one, all good albums must come to an end. Imagine me, a handsome lizard in an oversized tuxedo, delivering my review for this closing track. My non lizard mother is quietly crying in the front, while my father is off having a cigarette at the border of the metaphor. Kiba holds a microphone and raps to rapid bongos, followed by booming drums that spook the priest and make the corpse of ambiguous relation shake. Copperhead on the mic destroys the last fifty seconds of the album, leaving Kiba nothing but white hot cinders. XO was a trip that I wish I still had the souvenirs from. I must have lost them in the club, or in the car back from the rave, or in the pews of the church from the funeral. That's okay, since I have Kiba's words, as well as those of his talented collaborators, to carry me forward. Now, time to put on my good vest and get back to the club. There's a certain lizard gone whom everybody is missing. -- Deft Beck
The Top Ten Eighties Songs
Now, when people think of the 1980s, they think about many things that aren't indeed characteristic of the era. We had Ronald Reagan, gel shoes, and New Coke. Let me dispel the nostalgia; we had Ronald Reagan back in the 50s; we had plastic covering our feet since we were unwrapped from the factory, and Coke hadn't been new since cocaine rickeys were invented.
Along these lines, there's a lot of good 80s songs that just don't get a lot of service-lipping along the lines of some of the bigger hits of the day. And so, to get rid some of that nasty atmosphere, here's my personal Top Ten. These are presented in no particular order because I am particularly lazy.
Centipede by Rebbie Jackson
Centipede has the special appeal of a Jackson song that just came off of the clearance rack at Goodwill. The up and coming Jackson sibling Michael produced this hit song and guest stars as accompanying vocals during the chorus. But the real star are the seagull cries of Rebbie Jackson, showcasing the start of her incredible momentum in her career afterward. With her ability to be a tiger, snake and a centipede with hundreds of sensual, hot legs, it's no secret as to why she became such a success. Shapeshifting remains an elusive skill among the pop elite.
Whip Appeal by Babyface
Babyface brings us a slow jam about what the women in his life do to him during their Castlevania roleplay sessions. Though he isn't always Dracula, he still lays on his satin sheets and revels in the pain that he ever so sensually delivers through this song. Whenever this song came on the radio in any part of the 80s, women would sensually moan and begin masturbating in their bathtubs in the dark. It caused such a social uproar that the song is officially banned from all radios worldwide. It's a shame, because the man with the face of a baby had a lot of appeal, whips nonwithstanding.
Caribbean Queen by Billy Ocean
Depending on who you ask, this song could be about an African or European queen. No matter which monarchy to which you are beheld, Billy Ocean is here to sing about it. This song is flush with the finest sound effects that the producer's library could offer, such as a roaring tiger and the sound of murmuring crowds. The composition is completely original and in no way resembles a song about jeans owned by Billy; any sonic resemblance is coincidental and not indiciative of any songs that may or may not have been released a year prior to this worldwide hit.
Torture by The Jacksons
If you couldn't get enough of Centipede then you'll love this package of pure sorrow and familial obligation. Featuring the vast talents of the Jacksons such as Tito and Jermaine, it's a driving rock song with the horsepower of a Geo. And we can't forget about the middle portion, where the lesser known Jackson, Michael, sings just before a twenty minute guitar solo that farts all over the last eighty minutes of the song. It's these kinds of brotherly collaborations that makes it clear why Michael wanted to branch out and make something of his life instead of clinging to the success of his brothers. And without him, we'd never have Zayn.
Two Occasions by The Deele
Babyface is technically on this list twice, but there's no rule saying that's not allowed. He's joined by two other people with much more mature faces than the one he possesses. While the parts where he sings are nice, the other two members of The Deele are the real stars of the track, with vocals so syrupy that they can be drizzled over my morning pancakes. The two occasions mentioned in the song are day and night, but it would have been especially sweet if they had mentioned that they thought of the lover addressed in the song when listening to other, inferior love songs. Because this song is for all occasions.
Smooth Operator by Sade
Smooth Operator is best known as the song that has been played in every single elevator in the entire world. It's the perfect song to listen to as you're going up to your hotel room for a night of hot room service and crying into your pillow. It's a little known fact that this song is a response song toward Pete Shelley, who was into Sade for her excellent telephone operating skills. No matter if it was a rotary phone or a push-button phone, she always ensured that she called the correct person. This was unlike Pete, who had the habit of calling Rebbie Jackson with his poor phone operation skills. No wonder his heart was so cold.
Buffalo Stance by Neneh Cherry No money man can win my love for this hip hop track. Not only is Ms. Cherry paying tribute to buffalos in this track, but she's also paying tribute to those who stand like them. In her native Sweden, Neneh used to observe young gentlemen and ladies standing like the fluffy grazers of yore, making sure that nobody gets in their way. This social phenomenon was so important that Ms. Cherry had to tell the world about it. Now, you can see everybody standing like buffalos when they want to look intimidating. I'm doing it right now! Don't you get fresh with me.
Pink Cadillac by Natalie Cole
If Nat King Cole was the king of jazz, then Natalie Cole was the queen. Yes, I know that they both performed in separate genres, it's a figure of speech. Anyway, this fusion of funk and synthpop is the stuff that you'd listen to as you're driving down the street, perhaps in an open-top car with a reddish hue. It doesn't even have to be yours, and it doesn't have to be your money, either. That's the free spirit that Natalie is promoting in this song. In all, it's a poppy jaunt with a lot of charm. I'm sure that NKC would have been proud, if he had been alive to listen to the song. Maybe one of these days I'll play it at his gravestone.
Tell Me Am I Dreaming by Jermaine Jackson
Jermaine continues to be the artist of the dreams he's presumably discussing in this song. Michael, ever the coattail-hanger, appears in this song, wondering if the romance in which he's engaging is the subject matter of his REM cycles or the harsh reality of not being as good as Jermaine. The lyrics from Michael are delivered so staccato that you swear that you're listening to a talentless robot than the angelic moaning of Jermaine. It's no mystery as to why he ended up as the most successful Jackson sibling and why Michael had such jealousy towards him. Well, with songs like this; it's no dream, it's real.
Mama Used To Say by Junior
Junior is best described as the lost Jackson sibling. While he isn't nearly as dazzling as Jermaine, Junior proves that he's more than competent enough to deliver his narrative of not trying to posture yourself to be older or younger than you currently appear to be. And with Junior appearing almost exactly the same as he did back in the 80s, it's safe to speculate that the power of the song's message has preserved his youth forevermore. So, godspeed, Junior, and make sure you follow your late mother's advice and live your everlasting life.
There you have it, all of the songs that were released in the 1980s that were important. From the talents of Jermaine Jackson to the horrifying mutant physiology of Rebbie Jackson, there was plenty of talent on display that wasn't always in the spotlight. I hope you've come to realize how important this era is to all aspects of music history going forward. Truly there hasn't been any other music made that has had such an impact.
A commission from Deft Beck, who asked me to draw a black and white picture of a character from his webcomic, Cosmic Dash: http://www.cosmicdash.com/ The character is called "The Pusher" and has not yet appeared within the story as far as I know, but is basically the robot equivalent of a drug runner. I rather like how it turned out.