Clipping just dropped this gravity-defying new video for “Air ‘Em Out” (see/hear here) helmed by masterful director Carlos Lopez Estrada + starring Clipping frontman Daveed Diggs, and we can’t stop staring.
sunflowers wilt first, the apple “johns” curling inwardly on long slender stems. The lack of sunlight is the future calling out a fever, in night sweats, to a new generation on a slim lined television, the romantic scene of walking hand in hand on the beaches of needles and 200 year old turtles strangle, or was this another myth of sea creatures that carried their homes on their backs? This is what this generation, will grow up to silence will not be golden, speech will be full of hunch-backed words, there will be blame, for the elders, left a thousand years ago to build fantasy road-ways underwater, with stones that crack and leak and buckle: the dollar split in half, coins for the workers, petty cash for the administrators, a whole dollar bill for the designers corruption pulls down the bridge when mother nature takes her turn on the toll booths.
. in the west, where the sheep dream of throwing nets to catch fish. the cage for the bird named the Hawk a symbol of freedom, a mythological beast, bound, as we are to the same mythological freedom. what is this stamping of feet on the pavement when the banks have taken the house but not one banker was put behind bars. we are all guilty of not waking to reasons light even though the blast could have created a new island. .
feathered to rise, the Phoenix, in ashes die metamorphoses, matter informed with life, blessed by a horror of previous immortalized grief. this tiny dot, an ink spot on the lineage age, looks to a book that seems to hold many explanations of blue horizons- how the fields sparkled with emerald where snow covered the mountains summit and its slopes with deepest green, the essence which imbues with magic opacous flowers and the feathers of the birds- crimson, gold and opal that compose a distant evening sky- the infant learns the meaning of colors, what it is to slide out from the embryo as the lily opens with dawn, altering its own form and destiny, indifferent and unconcerned whether it lives or dies or leaves a legacy; the first tear drop is learning how to cry.