‘Dreem Static’ is the latest transmission from South London machine-funk android Quaid – a sludge-sleaze night ride into soulful neon electronix and VR beatbox experimentation. Like a malfunctioning AI trained on Drexciya, Prince and DJ Screw.
For his Apron debut, Quaid lands his spacecraft on earth, shrinking it down to microscopic size and traveling into the furthest reaches of the mind. “Every good story has a dream sequence,” he explains. The music rattles through a nether-universe of purple haze and sonic surrealism, with overdriven techno-funk rhythms, plucked analog bass and the kind of echoing synth flourishes you’d expect to hear from Detroit royalty.
This is soundtrack-influenced music that avoids the trappings of our era: it doesn’t sound like an Italian giallo flick or “Stranger Things”. Rather Quaid hits his stride supping ideas from ’80s video store oddities, sci-fi Blaxploitation flicks and mind-altering psychedelic excursions. It’s a little like a full record of the interludes on Carl Craig’s early run of classic records, but constructed with a Funkadelic-fwd beat scene mindset, like Madlib producing an Other People Place record on acid. And if that doesn’t interest youwe don’t know how we can help.