Emirates

by n'toko

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about

This album has been on my mind since 2015, when me and producer Blaž hit the studio and started recording different ideas. It basically started out with us jamming together on guitar, piano, bass and synths, putting together melodies and playing with effect pedals. With the help of drummer Simon Intihar, trombonist Žiga Murko and dj Borka, we compiled a number of instrumental sketches, which later became material for Blaž to cut up and arrange into one kind of banger or another. It took us endless hours of trial and error work to take the music where we wanted it to be, but I really feel the process was worth it. Blaž is a stunning musical talent and after years of doing everything by myself, it was amazing to see somebody else’s vision push things forward.

‘Emirates’ is the most political thing I’ve done in English so far, but instead of doing direct messaging, I looked for images of a future world, played with the idea of what a socialist utopia will look like and what kind of struggles could bring us there - a kind of postcards from the future thing… I wanted to deconstruct the monolithic industrial communism that we’re used to from pictures of cold war Eastern Europe. I’m much more interested in what society can become and what kind of individuals it will produce one day.

Anyway, I’m really happy to finally share the tracks and play some shows with new music. I’ll keep you posted on upcoming gigs, videos and other shit that’s on the way in the next weeks. And while we’re still living in a system where we need to sell our labour to eat, I encourage anybody who can to support our work by purchasing the record. Besides digital and cd, this will also be my very first vinyl release. Thanks for listening and hope you enjoy it!

Give it a listen and order here:
player.believe.fr/v2/0882119022025

If you’re in Slovenia and want to get a physical copy, hit me up on:
ntoko@ntoko.si

credits

released March 17, 2017

All lyrics by N'toko
All music written and performed by Blaž and N'toko
Except drums by Simon Intihar, trombone by Žiga Murko, scratch by DJ Borka
Recorded in Studio Metro Ljubljana
Technicians: Jure Vlahovič and Jernej Černilogar
Vocals recorded in Earresistable Mastering Ljubljana
Technician: Igor Vuk
Mix: Blaž
Vocal mix: Igor Vuk
Mastering: Igor Vuk

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Track Name: Obey
No gods, no juries, no lawyers
no army, no schools, no house, no orders
no cops, no jobs, no bosses, no borders
no banks, no tanks, no love - we own this

Who still holds cigarettes with the holders?
A bunch of pretentious fucks, the Romans
Obey orders like a tourist
paying triple for that coffee like a slow drip mortgage
From the land of dead poets and graveyards
where history’s full of shit - Braveheart
People want the truth in 140 characters
and wonder why all their leaders end up all being retards
I wanna meet God, not just Steve Jobs
I want a flying car, one that’ll eat cock
I’m killing all of your opinions like its Jihad
Turn the other cheek until you find the fucking G-spot
Batman on the microphone, Robin on the beatbox
coming out too soon, the opposite of detox
Hate to see a good man fall under cheap shots
hate to see a crooked cop walk, jury’s being bought
Never doing shit for your country, that’s my dream job
Listen for the accent, people from the East block
Working on your plumbing while you work to get us shipped off
Might be taking orders but I’m spitting in your teapot

No gods, no juries, no lawyers
no army, no schools, no house, no orders
no cops, no jobs, no bosses, no borders
no banks, no tanks, no love - we own this

Fuck your inner peace, I’d rather have some enemies
Fuck your future yo I’d rather have some 70s
Smash your scull in with a heavy read
I’m talking Karl Marx, Capital, Volumes 1 through 3
High on anti depressives, watching nazi documentaries
saw the best of my generation voting for Hillary
On some start up shit, there is no hope left
Imagine everything you love turn into bro-step
Your mother, your father, the folks you grew close with
Vagina where your heart used to be, on some Bjork shit
Wanna go places but don’t want to be a tourist
everywhere the same shit, Ikea for the homeless
You best believe we talking bout you when aren’t looking
it’s the one good time my language is worth using
Listen in euros but I only speak in Rubel
let’s exchange thoughts man, nobody is neutral
My homeland - the second coming of Switzerland
people drink piss, flush their toilets with Evian
Driving they daughters to school in a minivan
Everywhere the same rules, we got bigger plans

No gods, no juries, no lawyers
no army, no schools, no house, no orders
no cops, no jobs, no bosses, no borders
no banks, no tanks, no love - we own this
Track Name: Emirates
People need to wake the fuck up
this is not the 90s
Our grandparents died so that we could have shiny things
Looking for somebody edgy - hair died pink
You finish last like nice guys unless you buying drinks
We'll make your poverty a fashion
blue screens and spotlights, fuck like an assassin
You come with nothing but your fingerprints
and start a new life in the Emirates
lighting dictator cigarettes
It’s been a while since I heard a dog bark
Flying 6 days a week, number 7 - is all dark
Mr. Big has got a small heart,
an oligarch, his kids are cute like some small sharks

He fucks people like there was no god
oh god, there’s no god, there’s no god
She trusts people like there was no god,
oh god, there’s no god, there’s no god

Sold your soul to the wrong devil
I’ll wear whatever, believe in whoever for that bronze medal
The god of white people
The science of white people
Nothing worse than being exploited by nice people
They quit eating, quit drinking, they quit smoking
A shit storm and it never quits snowing
The same year ice cream cone tattoos seemed like good ideas
the planet got warmer by 2 degrees celsius
now we can stroll to the top of Mt. Everest
in some Converse Chuck Taylor Allstar kicks
Everybody knows my name and it means nothing
Everybody knows my face and it feels ugly

A hotel breakfast getting cold
you're upstairs sobbing
I wanna live in a place where nobody jogging
Solving math problems - quantity over quality
We overqualified for this job - obviously
It’s fucked up - didn’t want to be called a feminist
I wanted to grow wings and fly, make the rest of you look like insects
Sorry ass insects - all of you get your wings clipped
all of you get your lips split
when I get mine, I’ma kick kids
From the easy listening playlists
to the baby tv stations
from the torture chambers
to the animal angels
from the houses of cards
to the mountains of lard
3 years above the clouds
and she’s never seen a god

so they keep fucking people like there was no god...
oh god, there’s no god, there’s no god
She trusts people like there was no god,
oh god, there’s no god, there’s no god,
there’ no god…
Track Name: Yugoslavia
I was born in Yugoslavia, some badass communists
Family packed our bags went on a reaganomics trip
soviet spy accents but we was some good immigrants
nothing like the strippers and mafia lords in cinemas
Some good citizens, some good Lakers fans
I met Vlade Divac, got to shake his hand
My father making plans, they never took off
he was working hard and we were goofing off
In my Donald Duck hat making schoolgirls laugh
family glued to tv set, we made the news at last
a week ago nobody knew where our ass was from
now we the first place in Europe with a war since 1940 son
Years later people ask me where I’m from
it’s former Yugoslavia
they pat me on the back and say
“everybody gotta live somewhere - I feel you bruh”
10 years we built shopping malls,
trying to be like these happy people
only to find out they were never reallu happy, just acting cheerful
Now we follow dreams - we some good capitalists
that’s what Jesus would’ve done - we some good catholics
It takes money to make money
so we take money, any kind is great, pay you back with interest rates money
Used to have the privilege of saying I hate money
Now we a debt colony, that’s when you crave money
God has nothing to do with it, the banks create the money
they don’t forgive your sins you paying every last penny
I tried moving to America, came back home a communist
fuck chasing success in a police state governed by gun lobbyists
Fuck being other one of those “coming over here, taking our jobs” immigrants
You can marry your own cousins nephews and nieces for all I care - I don’t give a shit
Keep the money in the family,
I was never good at making money, I can make trouble
I do it for free because I love you
All I wanted was a sky, not a sunroof
The world is full of soulless drones- being nice to each other,
and real people with heart - killing off one another - everybody is a number in a debt colony
repeat after me
a motherfucking debt colony, that’s where you from

We werw born in Yugoslavia, some badass communists
Pack your bags we going on a reaganomics trip
We were making plans, they never took off
We was working hard and you were goofing off
Track Name: Lumber Games
(It’s the lumber games…
the fuck outta here with that beard, moustache, checkered shirt…
What the fuck)

My kneecaps fucked up - I lean left
forever spitting on microphones like Žižek
Fuck you happy people this goes out to all the rejects
depressed, amphetamine settlements on the beaches
You make it here, you can make it in hell
horrible human beings making a name for themselves
When they see you in heaven they act like they never knew you
if they see you in hell the situation is probably loose loose
My eyes bleeding, please internet leave me
My concentrations a middle eastern peace treaty
Treat dudes with the same beef they treat me
unless dudes twice my size, then we retreat
Same question - how the fuck can we be free
when the cost of living exceeds monthly fees?
used to feed Africa, now we can’t feed Greece
know that money grows on trees, You see the blood on the leaves
Knee deep in these free mp3s
but put your money where my mouth is - food we can’t eat
stock markets don’t move with the mood on the street
free range benjamins but your crew on a leash
Yo, you dug your own grave
bumrush the stage
got their hands in the air but there’s nothing to praise
You ain’t a young Dre in NWA
They gone call you a cunt with a hundred delays like:

“Timber”
they all like “Timber”
haha, “Timber”
You know it
They be like “Timber”

Contrary to popular belief - no matter how popular your monopoly
in a boom and bust city you’ll probably be forgotten in a week
a flat tire with college degree
lost in translation, wrapped in designer paper
The last news reporter I respected was layed off
If being a dick is what pays off
you doing a great job
Less edge than Edge
Some of your best friends are the feds
family probably better off dead
Fuck what your friends say
what would Malcom X say?
we fighting for freedom
or just begging for some leg space?
They say you get what you deserve but that’s some bullshit
The harder people work the more these people labeled useless
And people get used to being abused as quick as they get used
to being rich
Crews are getting split, I said crews are getting split
cause your music isn’t shit
you wear a condom for a hat - dude you’re being a dick
We from that land of heavy industry, heavy artillery
farmers and woodcarvers I know that you ain’t feeling me
The body in the way of information technology
Engage with ideas physically - anthropology
We give birth, dig the earth, twist herbs
fuck creative writing courses in Big Sur
high up in the mountains where the air is a thin blur
breathing makes my ribs hurt, all I ever hear is “Timber!”

They all like: “Timber”
check me out
They be like “Timber”
“Timber”
Yo, the lumber games
Track Name: Free Hugs
Everything I bring to the table gets ruined
there is no table stupid, there’s nothing to bring to it
The only rule is you either take it or loose it
You either breaking the rules or watching other dudes do it
Me and my music exchange bodily fluids
I’m probably loosing my common ground with these other humans
Getting harder to move with the times
outsmarting the group think
fools screaming at me: “get the fuck outta my blueprints”
The only position to play: a stereotype
Ukranian guys in The Wire we very alike
You turn the world into a golf course
all day every day its all sports of all sorts
Good people come cheap – land of the free
throw ‘em off a balcony they land up on their feet
Pull ‘em out the womb in some comic sans mittens
throw ‘em in the river they won’t even know what hit ‘em
like those ugly motherfuckers in the buses from the suburbs
know they ‘bout to die cause all of their hours numbered
Who’s that looking through my fridge and my cupboards?
Knows everything from my number to who I covet?

I don’t want your free hugs
hand me a brick, hand me the gloves
I don’t want your free hugs
Jesus saves, we’ve given up
I don’t want your free hugs
hand me a brick, hand me the gloves
I don’t want your free hugs
Jesus saves, we give up

Free hugs everywhere, real love getting rare
wake up in the gutter, high five billionaire
rich dude rock fan wipe out hemisphere
Everything’s forgiven he put out some good records there
Got the whole city dancing on electric chairs
entrepeneurial mind - some kind of human
Fresh prince of macro - economic tabloid
laundry mat, rocking chains like some bad boys
Work hard die young that’s some violence
truck driver named Nigel (hi Nigel)
says everybody coming dirty where our kind from
Open a firehidrant, fuck up our iPhones
will we make it in the new world? only god knows
hand me the brick, hand me the gloves
and I don’t want your free hugs
Jesus saves, us people give up

I don’t want your free hugs
hand me a brick, hand me the gloves
I don’t want your free hugs
Jesus saves, we’ve given up
I don’t want your free hugs
hand me a brick, hand me the gloves
I don’t want your free hugs
Jesus saves, us people give up
Track Name: Hihats
Every next record I’m like “this will be the one”
Every next revolution “this time we’ll get it done”
Staring at the phone, watching other people come
on the edge of the globe, I got no place to jump
Yo I gotta warn you, what you get is what you see
I’m not a passionate person but yo I make a verse bleed
All we’ll ever be is one of those Humans of New York stories
your friends share on timelines, our lives so corny
I’m no pony, bite your kid’s fucking fingers off
custom officer grinning, somebody must’ve tipped him off
Hate the competition but don’t wanna be the kid who lost
Low wages, zero hours, still thinking that he the boss
It’s a sad life, trying to keep these kids happy,
bored out their fucking minds, a bad time to be classy
Working 12 to 12 for some implants and coffee
it’s a long walk from Sillicon Valley to Wall Street
People of all creeds, looking like they want beef
Somebody to hear their prayers, your own personal nazi
Maost motherfucker trying to keep the crowd pleased
computers and loud beats, computing wants to our needs
All I ever wanted was to know what I want
I just wanna be the person telling people who they are
Fuck being president I wanna be Nicki Minaj

Where’s the hihats?

Hihats everywhere
On the subways
Hihats everywhere
leaking from headphones
Hihats everywhere
In the venues
Hihats everywhere
In the bedrooms

Being a genius wasn’t working, working harder wasn’t worth it
Page views aren’t euros and a selfie’s not a portrait
Real life is a bitch, real people get tortured
for every rapper doing time there’s one doing endorsements
Internet for the blind, voiceover emotions
Everybody got a fingerprint, most are bigger than yours is
Leave nothing behind except my search history
One half Dwayne Carter, the other half Duane Reed
Lady screaming on the train o some stand your ground shit
proud citizen of a country treating her like cow shit
You aren’t about shit, just an urban outfit
I’m an immigrant, you bout to hear the truth in dialect
I’ve been out of line since ‘96
putting haters where my mouth is
at war with the loudness
Surfing on crowds, surfing on couches
surfing on browsers while you smurfing the ounces
and I’m out bitch
Track Name: Vultures
Snap your fingers to this…
Just snap your fingers to this…
Vultures

Who’s that, peeping through my smartphone?
a nice apartment in the city but I’ll never call it my home
elementary school teacher kept calling me Michael
not my real name but shut the fuck up - be a nice girl
had some nice friends, from where we not from
we all look out of place, but yo we not dumb
Got more opinions, but they mean less
no wonder people depressed, you made the news - no difference
Who’s that riding on my wish list for christmas?
the power to make billions, division of joy bigots
stick a hashtag on your struggle and sell it as entertainment
unpaid child labour, lasers for eyes, isolated
Who be that crowd favourite?
Every relationship is a blind date
it isn’t hard to fake it
I’m rolling with shape-shifters
teen idol like there was no age difference
yo, they even take pictures
Nothing is cool, your rage is part of the machine
your whole subculture brought to you by energy drinks
Self expression is nothing but you working for free
twerking at gunpoint but yo, this is the real me
and this is the real you
and this is the real we
and we amount to nothing more than public GDP
A product of society - literally
packaged and shipped off emotions are industry
I didn’t create this place, don’t call me a businessman
just wanna sit on a bench, watching people walking on the street
fuck your lifehacks, let’s do this the hard way
won’t be any vultures left parking on my driveway

Snap your fingers to this…
Just snap your fingers to this…
Vultures
Track Name: Optimist
Shit is fucked up, I don’t identify with my country
the people are mean, the culture is fucking ugly
True we had Laibach, but that was back in the 80s
if they were born today I’m sure that they’d be
sounding exactly like and indie band from Williamsburg
everything else sounds “straight outta Switzerland”
Kids are producing sophisticated electronica
or playing accordian music – we call it the harmonica
Still we probably better off than you are
no student debt to pay off, never had to work too hard
and lets be honest, all our governments are pieces of shit
you middle class you don’t always get to notice it
But one man’s evil is another man’s stability
and everyone’s a greedy cunt, refugees get fed to the sea
Spend enough time in the wrong passport
and every country starts to feel fascist – sorry if that’s a bad word
No politics at school written a thousand times on the blackboard,
fuck it its class war, Macklemore or the Trap Lord
And tell your landlord his real estate is now our dancefloor,
delet your social media apps, it’s a trap door
and what you write sitting down you can’t stand for
your silly rock anthems are dad-core, get over it asshole…
From what I understand, people are scared
Everything looks like an open mouth these days
All these folks being told they’re special since birth
afraid of ISIS, looks like the crisis got to them first
I used to cry after church
everyone’s body was in a zone, except for mine – it didn’t jerk
I thank god he never gave me a religious experience
its perfectly fine not being into something when everyone else is feeling it
Hands up if you thought the albums of the year were shit
I’d rather be told what to do than what to think
And its fine being scared, I’m not an optimist either
I don’t believe in anonymous or any populist leaders
The future doesn’t belong to me, that’s one way of saying it
but people who talk about the future have no imagination
yet rave about the past like it was a fucking spaceship
wasn’t all that great, just your family was going places
I haven’t achieved anything much, and that’s fine
and I want everyone to have a free ride like - ”woooo…”
Track Name: Ikea Killer
I don’t know what you believe
but you’re just a piece of meat
in a furniture catalogue
where houses have teeth
I’m not dreaming, I’m being perfectly sensible
it scares me
all these healthy 30 something couples
with their healthy babies
An army of giant cocks
impaling bodies like Vlad
I know how these things go
after all, I’m a fucking Slav
surrounded by young money snobs
with their old money moms
Clap their hands when a plane lands
TED talks at the mosque

you got 6 million ways to die - Ikea killer
Choose as many as you like - Ikea killer
Life inside a catalogue - Ikea killer
Killer killer killer
Killer killer killer

I don’t know what you believe
but your city is not a boom town
Shanghai is a boom town
Calcutta is a boom town
No one in your family works hard
you are not a storyteller
A Disney character waiting to be kissed
a Cinderella
You’re not a people’s person
you’re a 1 percenter
everybody everywhere thinks they could be doing better
I used to play basketball
learned that it’s a man’s world
but it ain’t nothing, nothing without a dancefloor

6 million ways to die - Ikea killer
Choose as many as you like - Ikea killer
We inside that catalogue - Ikea killer
Killer killer killer
Killer killer killer
6 million ways to die - Ikea killer
Choose as many as you like - Ikea killer
We inside that catalogue - Ikea killer
Killer killer killer
Killer killer killer

I don’t give a fuck, I won’t ever give a fuck
while you’re sitting at the meeting I just came to interrupt
while you busy taking pictures I just mainly rip em up
giving interviews at brunch, I get paid to read your bluff
singing I don’t give a fuck, I won’t ever give a fuck
be the customer from hell, crushing everything I touch
Put my fingers on your filters fuck your synthesiser up
Catch you on a business flight, spill my dinner on your tux
the Ikea killer …
Ikea killer
Ikea killer
Track Name: Filth Cop Greed
What the world needs is more people like me
never read the papers so depressions are a breeze
I got this free ticket to where the world ends
looks kind of like a mountain resort, you can snowboard there
my hands were already up in the air like I don’t care when you got here
it’s the year of the goat (and I’m all ears)

What the world needs is more people like me
find true love at 28, have kids at 33
Count money when I sleep, count it when I eat
First thing when I get home, last before I leave
Every Swans record in my collection, flip through the sleeves
Filth Cop Greed
holy money
Filth Cop Greed
holy money
Filth Cop Greed

What the world needs is more people like me
Guys who went to college, guys who smoke weed
People who read code and travel alone
Dream of raping the woman who makes their home
Filth Cop Greed
Burning World
Filth Cop Greed
holy money
Filth Cop Greed
holy money
Track Name: Enter Sandman
Your kids will never be the the football stars you want them to be
interior design has never saved a refugee
that stripper is a dead animal on a table
There’s a war going on - I got no time for spirit gatherings and broken hearts
For your Macy’s red star
for your Heineken red star
For your Dave Grohl Ted talk
for your e-cigars
If you get any more love it’ll kill you
Its 2015, the summer of We don’t give a fuck
We need to get real like Death gods
you leprechauns still smoking weed and watching South Park
The revolution will not be animated
it will not be lead by stand up comedians and DJs
witty charming white guys will die by the millions - fuck it
they already had their 5 minutes
nothing personal, just business
if you liked Ghost in the shell you’ll probably hate this
a dystopian cyber future for rich kids
privileged mad max libertarians on missions - dreaming of
private militias
the underpriveleged get evicted
treated like batman supervilians
men women and children
you gotta be fucking kidding me
soundcloud hits by the billions
List of things to do while we in heaven:
find Eric Clapton and dead him
put on some boys clothes and storm the Kremlin
burn corporate buildings
hot yoga for the masses
guiliotines and g-strings
when we say fuck the system it’s about fucking the system
craft beers and daft beards smashed under crashed chandeliers
politicians on milk cartons
all of these folks with their hands to the ceilings
they got their hands to the ceilings like -
hi, we’re the 99%, who the fuck are you?
already paid our dues,
a lot of people have been talking badly about you
they’re just miniature Titanics crashing into ice cubes