by Selene Brown
The Dark Knight. Shutter Island. 120 Days of Sodom. Titanic. What do these movies all have in common? They’re crap, and their creators are cowards. The reason why? Not one of them features at least 1 song by acclaimed experimental music duo 100 gecs.
Dylan Brady and Laura Les have refreshed and revitalised music for the upcoming decade of the 2020s. The Beatles have been left in the dust behind the screeching repetitive beats of the gecs and their distinctive brand of scenecore, happy hardcore and whatever else they can find while digging through that great big rubbish heap we refer to as music genres. Think: nyan cat if it discovered System of a Down and DMT. Sounds class right? And yet, none of today’s filmmakers will give them the attention they deserve, and cement an emotionally resonant scene in the pantheon of film legend by placing the soothing sounds of ‘Money Machine’ over it. The pitiful film industry of today is more concerned with “authentic, emotional, auteur” cinema that the Academy will gawk over and does nothing for the common people.
The people have spoken, and the people simply desire to see Jason Voorhees slice up innumerable and unmemorable nubile teenagers while ‘Hand Crushed By a Mallet’ plays softly over the carnage. That is all we ask.
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