Finally, from the King of Trash Pop

Nearly a decade into his ambitious project Dance America Dance, Monrovia's musical mad scientist Desmond Thesman, 25, has finally let slip a bit of his progress. The title track, featured here, is not strictly new. Though this is the first time it's been released, the song was among the first Thesman conceived when he began planning his genre-bending assessment of the state of music in 2003. Since then, Thesman - who has referred to himself as King Dez, King Thez, The sMan, and other permutations of his name - has devoted nearly all of his time to creating what he promises is not just a pop masterpiece, but "the pop masterpiece." Dance America Dance is to be a quadruple album that deconstructs the last 80 years of American popular music and reimagines it through his vaguely dancey, trash pop lens. His endless devotion to the Dance project has become a source of constant worry for his family and friends, however. "There were several nights when... he simply did not sleep," says mother Bethany. "He developed a serious caffeine addiction [and] when he got withdrawals it was terrifying." Eugene, a friend of Desmond's, recalls a particularly low point during which Thesman rode his bicycle naked around Library Park. "Even after all these years he's locked himself away," says Eugene, "he's still the best cycler around. The cops couldn't catch him for days." There was also the issue of recording. If Thesman was unhappy with any part of a recording, he simply destroyed it and began again, a practice that eventually led to an astronomical sum spent on cassettes. Despite these difficulties, Thesman was able to send us this song as proof of his progress. The artwork, of course, is the same that was released in 2008 much in the same spirit, though we're still unsure whether this is the definite cover for the album. What is certain is the engaging nature of this song. "Dance America Dance" is most likely a take on the disco era, though from another universe where disco groups recorded strictly onto cassette, and it invites one in to search among its contents for hidden treasures. This is too broad a work to reduce it to one description, thus we will leave it up to you to analyze in the comments. Get ready to enter another dimension:


Catch Desmond Thesman this César Chávez Day at the Brass Elephant's Banquet Hall at 8PM. We'll keep you in the know on any new developments on Dance America Dance.

Into the Planisphere: The Tale of Freak Funk

You cannot call yourself a true Monrovian if you have not heard the wild, infectious rhythms of the genre taking our beautiful city by storm: freak funk. For several years now, our young ne'er-do-wells have been feeding rock and roll to the dog to make room for an exciting, imaginative dessert. Freak funk began with The Star-Town Troubadours, one of the most famous bands to flourish in the Monrovia musical underground. Their approach was simple: take the rhythm section of funk, which almost dares listeners not to flex their groove muscles, and add to it the eccentric experimentation of psychedelia. The effect is something that excites both band and audience, which in turn creates more excitement. As uncomplicated as this combination may seem, there could be no denying its success. The Star-Town Troubadours had a top-selling album with their 2002 debut, Our Sunday Clothes. Soon enough, other artists were taking on the approach as well as adding their own personal flair. A small psych-pop outfit called Little Yogurt had found only moderate success until they teamed up with a rebellious young man from Finland who had a dual passion for James Brown and Sun Ra. After their legendary two-month "pure magic nonstop jam," Herb Bombgarden and the Little Yogurts (pictured) took the stage in the summer of 2009 to deliver one of the most dynamic concerts in Monrovia history, reinterpreting funk standards in their own hyperactive image. Sharing the stage that night were fellow legends Time Machine Modulus, who have since rejected being labeled as a freak funk band. Yet they need not be so defensive. There are currently hundreds of garage bands keeping the genre alive, some of whom, like The Wild Freak-Outs, Atomic Giants, and Boog, have worked tirelessly to expand on their forefathers' truly revolutionary visions. While this may just be a fad about to fade, it's an amazing ride for all who dare to explore the outer reaches of music.

Check 'em Out: Sleepy Chameleon

The latest band to set off our radars is the hip and happening Sleepy Chameleon. We're not yet sure if dance-friendly bands with animal names are this year's trend, but we can guarantee that this group's sounds are out of this world. Sleepy Chameleon's music lies somewhere between the DJ set for the club in a daydream and the ambient sounds played in an extraterrestrial day spa. While the first part of Sleepy Chameleon's name holds true - these songs are sure to put you into a peaceful trance - the band displays little in the way of shapeshifting soundscapes. This adherence to a somewhat set formula may work to the group's advantage, however. When acclaimed electropop group Fancy Guppy took a nervous step into the dank waters of horror folk with 2006's Backwoods Melodies, the response of the group's rabid fans (particularly those from New York City) was relentless. The most vile remarks were spat upon millions of blogs, restroom stalls, and library books despite mildly warm critical reception. At the same time, The Wild Freak-Outs have found much success (both commercially and critically) in their many ventures into other genres, especially with 2008's electric double LP Oh My Holy Pizza. Either way, hop on over to Sleepy Chameleon's SoundCloud page and let your brain do the hustle or get a massage from a Martian. No happy endings though.