Most reviewers focus on the song about his mother's death, Blank tapes? Check." Terfry prepares an unspecified force to carry out an unmentionable mission, with potent paranoia. Language Arts, Part 3) (2001): "Butane? Check. It all turns out to be about an inflatable girl. Vertex: "I blew up your body, but you blew my mind." In his most claustrophobic song so far, Terfry mutters in an intense hepcat rasp about material comforts while a jagged free-jazz-style sax blurts in the background. Vertex: By contrast, in Terfry's geeky ode to homebodies, farewell to all illusions of playerdom: "The desperado knows just how at peace we are/ In the bed naked watchin movies on the VCR/ Colour me see-through and tickle my favourite itch/ Turn the ringer off and thank god for David Lynch." The original doesn't slam like the drum-and-bass remix that hit clubs, but it bull's-eyes the disturbed hilarity: "Out of proportion, my heart is the warmest/ Unfortunately for me, my private parts are enormous." Language Arts, Part 2) (1999): Terfry's best-known track, in which his prowess is symbolized by being "built like a horse from the waist down" - so people are only after him for one thing. Language Arts (1999): "This is for all of us: The Arch, Buck 65, the Hass, the Slam, DJ Critical, Stinkin' Rich, Uncle Climax, Achilles, Jesus Murphy and Johnny Rockwell." Over a DJ Shadow-style throbbing beat, Terfry dedicates an album to his own alter egos.
ALTER EGO BAND NOVA SCOTIA FULL
Weirdo Magnet - In his first folkie gesture, an acoustic blues-guitar-and-jaw-harp loop underscores Terfry's hyperspeed vinyl scratching, which sounds like Donald Duck in full tantrum. Weirdo Magnet (1997, with material dating to 1992): "We don't take many chances, so we're tactful/ That's just how it is on the streets of lower Sackville/ Home of the original white-trash hairstyle." This disc's many deft variations on typical boast-and-battle themes are disrupted first by localism, then by a dada turn: "Smashin' your glasses and breakin' your legs/ When I'm ridin' a bike made of bacon and eggs." (Halifax hip-hop is preoccupied with bicycles.) All signs of things to come. Meanwhile, Terfry's fellow obsessive musical squares can take advantage: After a few days' immersion, I'm pleased to present myġ0 Highlights of Buck 65ology, in chronological order: Since major labels haven't been fostering artists so carefully for two decades, it surely will end in tears. Perhaps, like me, they're still in shock a Canadian makes hip-hop this great - for rap heads and Man Ray fans alike. Never mind why a large corporation is indulging Buck 65 like a beloved teen. Sartre, Man Ray, Serge Gainsbourg, and Jean Seberg follow me through the catacombs." "I beat a parade drum in the Montparnasse cemetery. "I work this town like a snake-handler!" he writes on his Web site.
How does his label punish him? By moving him from Halifax to Paris, for a more sympatico ambience, and flying him back and forth for gigs such as the Canadian minitour he's wrapping up at the Rivoli in Toronto tonight. But now it's grown up to be the bully, and Terfry's loyalty's shifted to folk music, Tom Waits and talking blues this album is his resignation from his own cachet. "Square" here names an identity, not just a format: Biology-grad Terfry has long argued hip-hop was the original revenge of the nerds, with its record-dweeb search for samples and bookwormy quest for rhymes. Terfry, meanwhile, is telling interviewers he feels spurned by contemporary hip-hop. As if that weren't enough of a blow to consensus reality, Warner also reissued Buck's whole back catalogue, a total of six full-length CDs in as many months. What's wrong with this picture? It almost looks. "Over my dead body will you slice this man's art into raw chunks to gorge radio's bloody maw!" howls Record Weasel Sr. Square 1, minutes 3:52-5:20," says Record Weasel Jr. Imagine the meeting: "I'm hearing a hit in Square, in its intended form - with four suites averaging 15 minutes each. Yet Warner not only drafted him, it released that disc,
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