New Videos: From Underwater Electronica to Death Metal Domination
All the latest video releases from Func, Ananthaal, Demonstealer and more
“Chal Hatt” by ViceVersa ft. Apeksha Dandekar
Rohit “P-Man” Pereira and co. dive into fun, freaky, hip hop-leaning electronica with a little help from singer Apeksha Dandekar on this party starter. In the video, P-Man and Dandekar take on a bunch of b-boys in the basement of [performance venue] Antisocial, only to surprise them with goofy snake dance moves and thumaks.
“Haal-E-Dil” by Ananthaal
Clinton Cerejo-led Ananthaal shift views from a gorgeous Ladakh landscape to a studio in their second video. The monochrome clip captures the fusion collective performing their respective instruments, seemingly as cheerful as the happy pop-funk tune off their self-titled debut album.
“Beast” by Func
Guitarist and producer extraordinaire Randolph Correia meditates, strums a guitar and practices headstands underwater in his latest video. The track is just as calm its clip—Func delivers lush, warbly synths over a dancehall-inspired beat that makes for a great midnight doob sountrack. “Beast”—and its accompanying aquatic video—is anything but bestial.
“Minotaur” by Fleshgod Apocalypse (Live at BIG69)
Revisit 2015’s biggest metal festival with (much-delayed) footage of Italian symphonic tech-death metallers Fleshgod Apocalypse’s hell-raising set. “KASA KAI, MUMBAI?! DHANYAVAD!” screams frontman Tommaso Riccardi before unleashing the wrath of Poseidon with “Minotaur” off 2013’s Labyrinth.
“From Rubble and Ruin” by the Demonstealer
Indian metal’s poster boy gives the playthroughs a skip with a dark new video that features blood-stained ballet dancers, fire flingers and a deranged Atlas carrying the (Demonstealer’s?) burden of a boulder. The death metal cruncher is the latest track off Demonstealer’s second solo album This Burden is Mine.
“100 Words” by Prateek Kuhad
Singer-songwriter Prateek Kuhad cuts through the clutter with a single frame video that’s as stripped down as his acoustic serenade. While animated snowflakes/flowers/dancing couples/lyrics occasionally float through, a forlorn Kuhad plucks his guitar and pours out his jilted heart (“Do you have a hundred words for me?/ ’Cause I have only three/ And you couldn’t even sing for me”).