Mendel thought about it. Genetic cross-pollination, mutation, transformation. The father and mother define their children's will-be. The mother bears the egg-- a generic albeit quite good slab of non-stockaitkenwaterman pop. The father brings the sperm of life -- clonk bleep every trip. And what happens? A minimalistic vocal-sample mantra repeating "tripping on your love..." endlessly while A broken-beats apocalypse washes everything behind the banana ladies. The beats increase, the bleeps go deeper and then the megabass obliterates everything inorganic. It continues...an eagle shows up (what the f*&^ is an eagle doing here?) ... The trip darkens. Echoes of a sample, almost recognizable.. and then, mayhem. If only all other little mutant bastards would act this way....
pedro