PINKBOX TELEPORT gives off a vibe between Night People Records and Pacificity Soundvisions. Like, the entire label aesthetic is equally VHS taped on DVD in a bongo-drum-machine broken programming on a four-track tape recorder. But it’s mostly just late, and all I’m thinking about is how I’ve been an advisor for the most fucked up people sometimes: those kids in Huber who had the FBI “supposedly” knock on their door with suspicion, the cousin who’s knocked-out tooth did the talking for him while confronting cops while simultaneously filming a music video, or the trust-fund kid inches away from losing a mouth of teeth because of $100 he begged me to withdraw because of a hold on his account. All I need is space. Which is why the new PINKBOX TELEPORT — Grapevine Tales by Viktor Liseddi — is so important. There’s dissonance. I can be within range, but not interact. This is a peep of the beholder. What’s on your mind’s eye?
More about: Viktor Liseddi
