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Glasses Freek Jr.

@glassesfreekjr

maybe i'll post music i dunno
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Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear the sound of a door opening... and you prepare to ride squidtastic grooves of your own design.

(Artwork by @angelhht. Reposted with permission)

What would a boss fight against Agent 8 sound like? When stripped of all the leitmotifs taken from other sources, whose music are we left hearing? Or are those motifs too intrinsic to remove? Would there be nothing left?

How could Project Memverse be expected to aid someone who can aid everyone but themself? Realistically, it can't — therapy isn't purely an external process. In order to reassert who they are, 8 must first find who they are, deep down.

And then beat the snot out of them. Yeah, that'll help.

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"You realize that Octo Valley's energy crisis didn't go away when the Zapfish did, right? There are Octarians still scraping by down here — ourselves included. There's not enough power or hospitality to go around." "So what, are ya'll City of Ember-ing up in this beach?" "We're been taken hostage, Callie; please don't make it weird."

(Album cover, logo, and core concept by @aviivix. Thanks for the commission!)

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Composer Notes: All that blistering percussion is from Indian dappankuthu, (lit. “drum punch”) which has grown into the street-pop staple of Kollywood (not to be confused with Bollywood or Tollywood). Since the heavily-processed samples of Octoling Rendevous are so Indian-flavored to begin with, the collapse of the Octavian regime (along with Octo Valley civilization itself, quite literally) means these inspirations are free to finally "let loose," so to speak. (I'm a bit worried that the common interpretation will be that the Octolings this piece is about are "wild" due to all the foreign percussion. Really, they're just trying to get by in a world that has failed them.

the Culture Shock AU is wild, ya'll.)

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Brass Catfish is an all-jellyfish big band ensemble, hailing from the same music conservatory as Ink Theory but becoming nowhere near as notable. But, as one ensemble member has stated, not all music needs to be notable. This has not stopped people from splatting each other senseless while it plays in the background.
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(Oxygen Tank and its members belong to and were created by @twipsai. Used with permission — thanks for letting me borrow them!)

Retraction: We at Hikara Walker would like to apologize to Oxygen Tank and its fans for insinuating, due to insufficient research, that their origins lay in pirate radio. Unlicensed radio broadcasts, if set on frequencies close enough to licensed ones, can cause interference which screws with radio reception. This is prevalent in the Splatlands and has been known to disrupt Big Run early warning systems — infamously resulting in the sacking of Inkblot Art Academy during March of last year. Rather, Oxygen Tank aired their first performances over the Ethernet radio channels of the Deep Sea Metro before spreading their reach topside. These transmissions were inadvertently picked up by underground Octarian domes via faulty electronic cables, resulting in repetitious illegal broadcasting therein. If the heavenly melody of the Inkantation sparked the downfall of a regime, then others, including Oxygen Tank's Ral-Hula-Loo (first rec. Museum d'Alfonsino), served to fan the fire by complete happenstance. (Reportedly it's rather embarrassing for them and they'd rather not talk about it. But that's journalism, baby — eat our shorts.)
  • Hikara Walker, Mar. 122024 issue

(Sample source list can be found on my YouTube.)

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(Oxygen Tank and all associated artwork belongs to and was created by @twipsai. Used with permission — thanks for letting me borrow them!)

Band: Oxygen Tank Single: Eat Shorts Kanabo Description: In stark contrast to the absurdity of the title — or in part because of it — this fresh-cooked shibooyah-kei tour de force succeeded, improbably, in propelling Oxygen Tank away from its beginnings in pirate radio into subtle mainstream recognition. The artist behind this unorthodox title, hailing from the Deep Sea, is "usually pretty chill" according to fellow bandmates, and contributes the distinct musical vibe from over there into Oxygen Tank's melting pot oeuvre. Perhaps it was in experimentally straying from that wheelhouse (with the support of said bandmates) in order to "say what needed to" that has made this fresh bop the default BGM of back alleys everywhere.
  • Hikara Walker, Feb. 122024 issue

(Sample source list can be found on my YouTube.)

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reblogged

IMG: candid photo of Red Flare District's (alleged) bassist, Deryn Doe. Wanted for illegal data brokering as of 09/10/122023.

Excerpt from interview with two three members of Red Flare District, Inkopolis News Network; 6 September 122023:

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Q: So, i take it the band's second single was composed and arranged primarily by... Haddock, was it? Hiddock (he/him), guitarist: Hiddock. Deryn (presumed she/her), bassist: [incoherent] St. Tuna Piano (he/him), frontman & drummer: Yeah, no input from me at all, man. Real inspiring stuff. Shame Petr coul'n't sing vocals again. Q: ... What was the reason this time? St. Tuna Piano: Cuz 'e choked on a bell pepper, that's wot. Irrevokably out o' commission. Deryn: [incoherent] Hiddock: Truth be told, I was initially inspired after our day trip to Um'ami — er, before it flooded last week, that is — but it wasn't until Shipshape Cargo Co. broke into the whole Turf War shtick that this idea just... arose through spontaneous generation; Squid Athena being birthed, fully formed, from her own skull. I mean, like, this new battleground floats through the remains of the polar ice caps — in essence, the impetus of both humanity's extinction and the Great Turf War, now used for a mundane cargo route and commercialized inkspewing. Don't you think that's oddly messed up? Q: Couldn't say. Anyway: there seems to be some degree of curiousity regarding a sample used around the one-minute mark. Any remarks? Hiddock: From a demo tape we found. Lost media; fit the theme. You wouldn't believe if we told you how we got it. Deryn: [fervent babble; no less comprensible] Q: I... don't believe she was even invited to this interview. How, uh... why is your bassist present? Hiddock: Well, "present" isn't... the word I would use. She's here, certainly. St. Tuna Piano: She comes n' goes as she pleases. Sorry if she touches anythin', 'er hands get all sticky. Q: Yes, but where did she come from? St. Tuna Piano: Same place anyone does, I 'xpect. Hiddock: Under a bridge. St. Tuna Piano (abruptly): Don't worry about it. We, eh, take care of her. Or somethin'.

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(sample source list can be found on my Youtube)

turns out this is a banger in BRC too

I don't know why the hell I haven't reblogged this already. This guy put my music in Bomb Rush Cyberfunk and I love it.

Three days down, four to go.

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footloose

/ˈfo͝otˌlo͞os/, adj.

1. able to travel freely and do as one pleases, not confined by responsibilities. 2. (colloq.) living large and dangerously. 3. what these things will do to you once they bite your legs.

The newest track recovered from Dedf1sh's catalogue, written chronologically somewhere between #35 caught and Hummusman's #39 caffeine. Perfect for listening to when running for your life.

(Extended version and sample source list can be found on my YouTube.)

Album cover art by @neozoid, now that I've finally tracked it down.

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IMG: at approx. 10:11 AM, Bluefin security feed picked up strange percussive audio, as though someone was frantically beatboxing directly into a cam mic in order to record it. Investigation ongoing.

“Status update: So, like, Red Flare District isn't doing too hot these days. Turns out the homeless bassist we found under a bridge was wanted for wanted for illegal data brokering, stole all our CD-ROMs and weedkiller and #$@%* bailed.” ... “Yeah, who'da thunk? And our frontman St. Tuna Piano is also wanted 'cuz apparently he, er, knew? The whole time?” ... ”Well, he's the frontman now. Was, at least. You missed a lot, Petr.” ... ”Anyway, he's holed up at a shack in Bluefin Depot and can't get away on account of all the commercialized inkspewing in the area. That's him beatboxing in the clip. Send help.”

— Hiddock, guitarist for Red Flare District, in a correspondence with band vocalist Petr following the latter's recovery from choking on a really, really spicy bell pepper.

Unfortunately, Petr was then swept up in the shopping frenzy of the Barnacle & Dime Big Run and has not been seen since. We fear he has been purchased by salmonid for ₡850.

(Extension and sample source list can be found on my YouTube)

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"We are whoever we choose to be. And I have chosen to be the one who takes things away from you — if only out of obligation. You know how it is."

(Artwork by @fineanddang. Reposted with permission.)

Came up with some twist-villain!Dedf1sh level music. We don't yet know what to make of Acht and Marina's shared history, so I'm envisioning some kind of self-imposed grudge tempered by her own morbid curiosity.

The reason Dedf1sh allowed herself to be ensnared by Tartar was because of Acht's desire to hone her music-making craft, right? If this process took place after Marina heard the Calamari Inkantation, then those two events could be linked.

If music can reformat the minds of a thousand soldiers and compel a dear friend to leave it all behind; to leave me behind... then what else can music do? How can I harness that power to my own ends? What if I could make the Inkantation my bitch?

Acht Mizuta may have perished down there in the Deepsea Metro, but her sense of purpose did not.

(audio source list can be found on my YouTube)

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IMG: candid photo of Red Flare District's (alleged) bassist, Deryn Doe. Wanted for illegal data brokering as of 09/10/122023.

Excerpt from interview with two three members of Red Flare District, Inkopolis News Network; 6 September 122023:

------

Q: So, i take it the band's second single was composed and arranged primarily by... Haddock, was it? Hiddock (he/him), guitarist: Hiddock. Deryn (presumed she/her), bassist: [incoherent] St. Tuna Piano (he/him), frontman & drummer: Yeah, no input from me at all, man. Real inspiring stuff. Shame Petr coul'n't sing vocals again. Q: ... What was the reason this time? St. Tuna Piano: Cuz 'e choked on a bell pepper, that's wot. Irrevokably out o' commission. Deryn: [incoherent] Hiddock: Truth be told, I was initially inspired after our day trip to Um'ami — er, before it flooded last week, that is — but it wasn't until Shipshape Cargo Co. broke into the whole Turf War shtick that this idea just... arose through spontaneous generation; Squid Athena being birthed, fully formed, from her own skull. I mean, like, this new battleground floats through the remains of the polar ice caps — in essence, the impetus of both humanity's extinction and the Great Turf War, now used for a mundane cargo route and commercialized inkspewing. Don't you think that's oddly messed up? Q: Couldn't say. Anyway: there seems to be some degree of curiousity regarding a sample used around the one-minute mark. Any remarks? Hiddock: From a demo tape we found. Lost media; fit the theme. You wouldn't believe if we told you how we got it. Deryn: [fervent babble; no less comprensible] Q: I... don't believe she was even invited to this interview. How, uh... why is your bassist present? Hiddock: Well, "present" isn't... the word I would use. She's here, certainly. St. Tuna Piano: She comes n' goes as she pleases. Sorry if she touches anythin', 'er hands get all sticky. Q: Yes, but where did she come from? St. Tuna Piano: Same place anyone does, I 'xpect. Hiddock: Under a bridge. St. Tuna Piano (abruptly): Don't worry about it. We, eh, take care of her. Or somethin'.

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(sample source list can be found on my Youtube)

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Excerpt from interview with three members of Red Flare District, Inkopolis News Network; 4 April 122023:

Q: Let's... uh, talk a little bit about this latest single of yours, Alma Mat 'Er; Barely Knew 'Er. Considering you are — or at least two of you present are — alumni of Inkbl- Deryn (she/her, presumed), bassist: [incoherent] Q: Pardon? St. Tuna Piano (he/him), frontman & drummer: Didya bring 'er meds, Hiddock? Hiddock (he/him), guitarist: Forgot. Q: What inspired you to revisit your alma mater for inspiration? Hiddock: Got another call from the haunted payphone. St. Tuna Piano: No, i'was all that gnarly flood damage from that salmonid meet 'n greet last month! I mean, w're no stranger to writin' songs 'bout floods n'all, but the acoustics in those damaged classrooms are [expletive] wild, man. Q: It doesn't seem to reflect much in the track itself. Hiddock: Because those acoustics sucked so we left. Deryn: [incoherent] Q: Is she alright? St. Tuna Piano: Oh yeah, Petr [referring instead to the band's absent vocalist, who reportedly "exploded"] is recoverin' just fine. Inkfish, man. All was left was a likkle green globule and now 'e'll be out next month! Hurdock: It's suspicious, is what it is. Deryn: [incoherent]

(sample source list can be found on my YouTube)

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Since the first do-over somehow sounded even more like ass, I remastered/redid the whole track now that I have more experience.

Picture this as the OST for a surprise XTRA WAVE during the next Big Run. Even better if this "King Salmonid" isn't announced anywhere beforehand.

Imagine, if you will, that distorted victory jingle plays to signify a King Salmonid, but nothing happens. All eight(?!) players Super Jump back to their starting locations and Mr. Grizz pipes in to express his confusion. Then he notices... no, no, he definitely sent out a four-man squad! Why are there more of you? How long have these conspicuous individuals in the same uniform been trying to blend in amogus? Are those Grizzco weapons?!

Then without a word, the interlopers all open fire at once. Cue the music.

Although the firefight would break out as the music kicks off, the 100-sec Xtra Wave would only officially start at 0:22 — when the Grizzco helicopter is blasted out of the sky with a Trizooka, careening into the ocean in a catastrophic, firey wreck. Mr. Grizz lets out a long, garbled string of curses and hails the emergency speedboat he prepared in advance to come pick you up. But will it make it to your squad in time? Here's hoping.

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Ditching the odd time signatures and overdriven timpanis in favor of breakcore drum loops is kinda like sanitizing what made the music ω-3 (the band for Salmon Run) special and shoving what's left in a place where it don't belong — which is similar to my interpretation of what "salmonlings" would be like. Literal fish out of water.

Salminid culture is heavily tied to the belief in the circle of life (via being cooked alive). It's why they're so willing to zerg rush players during Salmon Runs. So imagine being torn away from said cycle, altered so irrevocably that you barely recognize yourself. My intent was to capture that feeling of horrid mania, and the music I sampled from/covered lended itself well to that, I think.

I've also found a good in-universe performer at last: DJ Unregistered Hypercam 3 (by @teethflavoured on Tumblr), a retired Mudmouth turned solo artist for whom I instantly fell head-over-heels.

(sample source list and an ultra-rad visualizer can be found on my YouTube)

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The CEO of MakoMart (LLC) was named Trout Jehoshaphat Craven, and he almost deserved it.

Hosting Turf War matches in a supermarket was a rather off-the-wall business decision to begin with, but it payed back dividends in publicity, exposure, and — most importantly — that sweet, sweet slice of the profit pie. Now, the ground-level employees of MakoMart never saw much of said profit, but Trout reasoned to himself that, by virtue of his mere presence as a high-net-worth individual, it would all trickle down to them one way or another.

One evening, he had his most brilliant idea yet: a theme song! Not your standard commercial jingle; MakoMart already had several inoffensive tunes in that vein. Nay, this was to be a full-fledged battle anthem worthy of both the Turf War scene and MakoMart itself! If a bowling alley was able to squeeze a smash hit out of some worthless floozies from the boondocks (Deep Cut with "Smeared Canvas"), why, Trout J. Craven could commission an even better work of art for even less, couldn't he! Thrift and Grift were his two middle names! (if you discounted the one he already had, but tbf who wouldn't?)

So it's rather unlucky that, by happenstance, the indie band this CEO hired to compose an anthem for MakoMart were:

A.) fervent anti-capitalists B.) already in a collective, melodramatic affair with his wife.

The five-and-a-half minute power ballad that played over the intercoms that weekend made both these points very explicit.

(The lyricist is best known for his ill-fated collaboration with Pearl Houzuki on "#$@%* Dudes Be #$@%* Sleepin'", if that gives you a better picture.)

During the resulting scorched-earth legal klusterfuffle that continues to this very day, the rights to the "employee bonus" one-and-a-half-minute karaoke version (now playing) was inexplicably sold off to interested parties from Barnacle & Dime — who started sneaking it onto their Turf War playlist. While this karaoke version is but a shell of what it's supposed to have been, it's become one of those near-memetic songs where if you know, you know.

Eventually, life goes on, jokes are left behind, and this tune will comfortably fade into the grocery store background static that it probably should've been in the first place.

(sample source list can be found on my YouTube)

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That ω-3 remix of my "Undertow Spillway" fantrack that I mentioned has been postponed 'til next Big Run. The opportunity was perfect, the stars had practically aligned, but I'm not happy with its current state and it wouldn't have gotten done on time anyway.

At least now I have time to commission an IRL cello player! Maybe!

In the meantime, a, er, "consulation prize" will be uploaded in a few hours since I neglected to when Sizzle Season came around. Stay fresh and stay tuned!

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... Why did they build a whole-ass flood bypass out in the Splatlands, anyway? Is it like California rules where it's arid as hell most of the time except for when everyone drowns, or has the flash flooding caused by Big Runs been more of a long-running issue then we initially thought?

The fan splatband Red Flare District is named in reference to the 190-chapter juggernaut "exercises in gratitude (The Barclay Street Flood)" by @redeyedsheepskull over on AO3. Contrary to what Inkopolis news media would have you believe, the Order vs. Chaos Splatfest was only partly the reason for the mass cultural exodus to the Splatlands. Maybe it had something to do with the fallout after a catastrophic spillway failure submerged a low-class Inkopolis neighborhood in millions of tons of polluted floodwater, I dunno.

RFD changed its name (from RLD) partly to capitalize on the event and partly out of genuine albeit ham-handed tribute.

And here, out in the middle of the desert, is yet another failed flood bypass. The ironic hilarity was too good for them to not write a song about. Fast-forward five years and some still consider the end product to be a tad insensitive.

(sample source list can be found on my YouTube)

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