I don't really like calling it Solaris Earth Pipeline anymore because that's a gay-assed name. Then again, being a 35-year-old white guy writing rhymes and having another white guy record it in his extra bedroom of his suburban home on fancy computer bullshit, then mix it all up and throw it into the robot world is pretty stupid too. I should really just be wandering railroad tracks, freestyling with the frogs, and carving rhymes into railroad tyes. But I don't, because I am tethered by brain sculpting.
This is one of the better songs off the last S.E.P. CD called 45s on 33. The song is your average indie rap style "Hey, let me take something I'm a nerd about and just run through a whole song using ridiculous minutaie from that thing I'm a nerd about." The theme is wrestling, and I attempt to explain a bunch of dumb shit that's not true. The greatest thing about this song is how this internet dude xTheSpoilerx who is awesome, sent me a mix CD one time of a bunch of Antiseen songs with weird wrestling promos in between of old Mid Atlantic wrestling. We took one of the Blackjack Mulligan promos, put it inside those new-fangled Scratch programs, and Boogie Brown cut the shit up. This final song is actually about two or three minutes shorter than what we originally did, which had like the longest scratch outro ever known to white boys in a suburban home's extra bedroom, making music with their wealth.
Oh yeah, the song, called "Va. Lucha Libre", which I am yet to be ashamed of yet, which is not very common for me. I am full of self-loathing and usually hate anything I do after like thirty minutes.
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