Beta 1

by Anonymous Inc.

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about

The BETA EP series is a collection of forgotten Anonymous Inc. tracks recorded between the years 2001 - 2007 and resuscitated, mixed, edited & polished by Max Heath in 2017.

Anonymous Inc. was a grunge band started by brothers David & Ceschi Ramos in their Mother’s basement in 1994. Shortly after the initial grunge years, elements of hip hop, jazz fusion indie & progressive rock sounds were introduced as part of their overall musical style. Captured moments of improv & youthful experimentation along with collaborations with many musicians & rappers such as iCON The Mic King, Shoshin, Tommy V, Dose One & Circus all helped form their first self titled full length album in 2001. Shortly after that release, In the early 2000s, pianist Max Heath became a vital member of the band.


Written & Recorded between the years 2001 - 2007 by Ceschi & David Ramos
Mixed by Max Heath in 2017
Mastered by Carl Saff in 2017

credits

released December 1, 2017

Anonymous Inc is :
Ceschi Ramos - Vocals, Guitar, Bass, Prophet Misc.
David Ramos - Drums / Percussion / Drum Machine
Max Heath - Synths / Piano / Backing Vox / Mixing / Electronics
Horns - Danny T. Levin of DD Horns (ddhorns.bandcamp.com)

Saxophone on Track 1 - Daniel Stark
Bass on Tracks 3 & 4 - Patrick Nagel
Bass on Tracks 1 & 2 - Ernesto Mercado
Backing Vox on Track 5 - Natalie Carballo
Turntables on Track 7 - Tim Mannle
Outro Beat on Track 7 (Feast) - Davey “Dreadnot” Kaminski

Graphic Design by : Andrew McAlpine (andrewmcalpine.tumblr.com)

Painting by Federico Farrington,
San Juan, Puerto Rico
Notes on the cover Painting “Tango” by Federico Farrington:
"Tango !",
el impacto que me causa el neo-tango electroacustico actual, y sus interpretes Gotan Project donde crean fusion y  ritmo  acompasado me motivaron a crear esta pintura.  Paradojicamente los tradicionalmente pasivos unicornios son los protagonistas de un acto tan provocativo y sensual como lo es el tango. Aquí  de nuevo procuro jugar con la ambiguedad representada y ver como esta dinámica se resuelve por si sola..


by David Ramos:
A long time ago, before laptop studios and SoundCloud enabled artists to record and immediately release their songs, there were half-functional Roland VS 880 home studios with cryptically labeled external disks, full of forgotten files. These songs were often lost to dreaded “disc errors,” or in our case, a basement flood that washed away years of work. Oftentimes, they weren’t meant to be heard beyond the safe confines of our duct-tape enveloped headphones. Some weren’t worthy of albums, and were best left in the archives. As the dusty ez-drives became obsolete, we transferred the contents to computers, shifting from one digital cemetery to another. Although we recorded dozens, if not hundreds, of unreleased songs, each one held unique value. Each represented some element of hope. There was the hope of capturing some moment, feeling, or theme. There was the hope that somehow this one track might resonate with someone else’s shared experience. As the years passed and our lives were lived, these songs remained, floating precariously in digital limbo. The good songs were backed up to multiple computers, on multiple drives, with multiple titles and versions. They captured the spirit of what felt like a prolific era, when writing and recording new music was an effortless ritual. 

Our decision to go back and evaluate these artifacts came with a certain trepidation. Would our current musical and aesthetic standards sully our past creations? Still, we knew (or at least hoped) that there would be something entombed in our hard drives that deserved to be unearthed. Opening file after file, not touched since our early twenties, we found songs that represent who we were and who we have become – both as artists and as people. Each song stimulating a different set of neurons, rekindling the shrouded memories of our youth. You can almost smell the basement: a mix of spray paint fumes, mildew, and teenage bodies. These songs are our memories; a window into who we were then. Hopefully, they translate beyond this nostalgic and hyper-personal significance. Either way, these are the ones that we feel are worthy of being released. These four Eps – Beta 1-4, recorded between 2002 and 2007 – capture an era as we heard it, filling the contextual gap between our last album (released in 2001) and our next studio release (which we are currently recording). We hope you enjoy them as much as we enjoyed rediscovering them.



    

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Fake Four Inc. New Haven, Connecticut

Fake Four Inc. is a record label based in New Haven, CT that specializes in experimental hip hop, indie pop and anything else we like.

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Track Name: Morning Cartoons
Morning Cartoons:
Grips on a nervous day
Falling through an obstacle course.
Creaking of the middle aged bones.
2 hours till the morning cartoons come on.
Morning Cartoons.

My friend My friend wanna be a demigod.
My friend you won’t ever be a demigod.
Track Name: End Of Act
End Of Act:
Peaks and valley drops
All your limbs flew off.
Grow them back.
You're still limping there,
Waiting old and scared.
Grow a back.
There's no reinvention
Only reinterpretation
Barely that.
Peaks and valley drops.
One day all will stop.
End of act.
Track Name: Remember
Remember:
Remember
We’ll always remember your face and the love that you gave.
We’ll remember you.
Track Name: Licorice
Licorice:
Licorice and candy canes on the grave of a superhero.
Broken cape holiday.
Make a wish.
It’ll come true underground.
Nobody will see it, but you’ll know it was real.

It’s like being born into a tampon.

Look at his picture there yellowing.
He was once the king of everything meaningful.
It’s all gone, washed away, wrinkled now.
You won’t wake him up anymore.
Happy Birthday.
Track Name: Reading Brecht & Feast
Reading Brecht:
We all wanted castles when we were kids.
We wanted tigers.
We wanted nonsense.
And on…and on…and on.

We used to believe that the world was round.
We looked up to vice presidents and clowns.

But now we’ve grown up and we know the truth.
That love is TV and Jesus is booze.
Now we’ve grown up and licked each other.
Like rabid robots reading Brecht in church.

And on…and on….and on


Feast: (produced by Davey Dreadnot)
Let’s have our fucking feast.
Fill our mouths up with a bigger piece of bloody meat, a disgusting treat.
Funny to me that we’re never truly full even though every time we sit down we’re just shoving treats in our chubby cheeks.
Coming up with more ridiculous visions and cunning schemes.
All around the running streams we seem to be deleting, depleting of any energy we’re needing.
What a funny dream.
When the frogs have four eyes…
Fish can’t reproduce.
When the faux finish covering our faces is finally fading into the lagoons.
When our pockets are covered in skin of genetically mutated animal twins
And our bodies are nothing but metal, severed, underdeveloped while Frankenvegetables are delectable.
I suppose it’s ok as long as food keeps on flowing into my fat face
But give it a matter of time and there’s gonna be somebody eating our minds….
A population of zombies that never quite dies…
Give it a matter of time and there’s gonna be somebody telling you what a population of fucking idiots you are.

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