Gaika The Powerhouse On ‘Machine’

Cutting through now with the urgency that hits the senses, means someone needs to have the audacity to take our minds, slice it into two and break apart everything we think we know, hitting us with a sound that makes us sit back and stop – will you just listen?

Think anything can catch your attention in that way? The kind of sound that’s so damn hard, that it pounds in your brain and makes you wanna go DAMNNNNNNN! A sound that comes crashing into your consciousness with the required urgency of our time? To describe Gaika as sick, doesn’t go even close to describing the craftwork of the 10 track EP ‘Machine’ that’s been so tightly wound up that it unravels itself out of the underbelly of the British experience. Rebound together into one body of work, it’s not a product of any one scene, its the product of a sick and tired British sensibility.

“I called this Machine because I’m from the future and the past. Only now matters though. I’m non-stop. No sleep no food no nothing just non-stop until I collapse and reboot. This is my art forged under strobe lights set in utter darkness. Each pulse a personal illumination back to life. The human spirit is digitized but never fully, you could call this record an emotional back-up or some shit. I called this Machine because every badman has one in his waist ready to shower down his enemies get the money and leave, i’mma do that too. I live in many worlds and float in gleaming Machines between them. I love it; from such height I see the connectedness of us all –  the Human Machine.  I called this machine because I’m the son of a scientist and the father of a ghost. I called this Machine because Gucci man should be free. There levels to this shit.” – GAIKA

Gaika the vocalist, writer, film maker and visual artist emerges from the belly of the British beast, riding between London to Manchester – forget fashionably hype, there’s nothing populist here. ‘Grey’ takes Manchester’s raw heart into the studio walls within the Northern Quarter and transforms it from the grim futures into a different kind of Northern powerhouse – this was never part of Osbournes plans.

Darkness overcomes our spirits as we slowly die with a desperation to be pulled out of the backwaters of Englands squanderlands, propaganda tearing across the screens, while inequality punishes us to a permanent purgatory. Out of the void comes the need for an emotional back-up, a reboot taking hold of us through the visual of a ‘Blasphemer‘, but it doesn’t let up and with a blunt suffocation that tightens its grip around us in ‘Heco’ (watch above). ‘Acid Wares’ powers up those animal instincts and crawls through the senses with its warped energy.

Just stop….. listen to ‘Machine’ below and take it in like a bullet to the brain.