Junk Food are mining a new underground in our fair Puget Sound. Ian Buck

This year, the annual blood rite known as the MTV Video Music Awards might've been the bloodiest ever. VMA best hiphop video winner Onika Tanya Maraj from Jamaica, Queens, invited a be-dreadlocked Miley Cyrus on a tour of her homeland (and a complimentary wig-snatching) via These Hands. And it was literally the greatest event in the entire history of the universe.

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Kanye Omari West Kanye'd MTV on MTV (did Jon Brion show him Fiona Apple's classic speech from 1997?) and capped it off by announcing his candidacy for 2020. While winning the presidency would be the ultimate performance-art piece—DONDA FTW—a friend wondered aloud if Ye could be the Antichrist, a bold position to take considering that the possibility of a Trump administration exists now. Either way, if the whole Bible deal is right, then there's just no avoiding it, is there?

So yeah, hail Yeezus, light bringer, Boostmaster. A thousand years of tribulations (and free A.P.C. jeans) sounds better than four years of race war under the toupee of that other rat-fuck. (And I know I joked before about Trump being great, purely because he encourages white America to be proudly racist again—thus making them easier to spot than you undercover fuckers diving for the comments right now—yet I waver between wondering if he really has a chance and being legitimately scared that I might actually reside in a universe that would let him win.)

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Elsewhere, back here away from the numbers: Three cats, known individually as MadShroom MC, Vaughn Illa, and DJ Corndogg, are now to be known together as the group Junk Food, a new permutation of members of the Everett-based collective Black Magic Noize mining a new underground in our fair Puget Sound. Junk Food's new single, "123," is a jittery, dust-caked, crackly slab of willfully throwback, cipher-rat styling that's unafraid to invoke the dreaded "real hiphop." Their CD-release party is Saturday, September 12, at the Central Saloon with Mike Larry Draw, Imprints, Punchacop, and Introverts. (Please: Make Pioneer Square into a habitable hiphop haven, seeing as Cap Hill has fallen to the monsters and is gone—long gone.) By the way, I know I've made my jokes at Everett's expense before, mostly trying to bag on my pal Ripynt—which pissed off some 425 heads who can't spell my name (which I get, seeing that I can't spell Ripynt's)—but who gives a shit really?

Another EVT-made squad would be the UDF mossie, which has at its core maestro Khrist Koopa and the two rappers formerly known as Caz Greez and Bolo Nef—now called Martis Unruly and BB SUN, respectively. The latter is a vital part of Thraxxhouse's LA contingent. Though these three haven't released any new material as a unit in a minute, their just out Unreleased Dust Funk is better than any collection of forgotten odds and ends has any business being. Really, it's one of their strongest, most concise efforts—a dusty trunkful of #rare gems that perfectly captures their chilling (and outstanding) chamber of eldritch intensity. Cop it on Bandcamp, pursue your freedom, be safe.

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