crashing jets delivers on his promise of a triple-slow screw: aaliyah growls hauntingly and timbo does his best portishead impression; a taut pop song becomes an epic torch song.
michael bell-smith traps r.kelly in the closet even further.
ghislain poirier and mat donnely deliver a white-label video (and for my jam, too).
mr.t pities the fools that don't honor their mothers.
alas, if only the airforce produced more bomb-dancers and fewer bombers...