The American Mind cannot comprehend Jimothy Lacoste. Someone thriving so far beyond the cold, deathly grip of Cringe — that grip we both fear and perpetually find ourselves squeezed so tightly within. Never have we ever seent a lad so curiously comfortable in his own skinsuit — often fitted in the elite designer labels of Western Europe. Inscrutable, genteel, tidy and erotic. Jimothy’s eloquent diction is employed to promote a tempered relationship with recreational drugs. To flex his proper hydration. Flex his regular nights of restful sleep. Flex being bilingual. How can it be that these british raps — these preppy, sedative econo-house raps — can be both so measured and so free? We want to call it novelty. We want to call it slight. But it’s so utterly deadpan, dandy and goddamn dapper we can’t come up with an adjective that lands. We can only gawk. And look, there he is now: Jimothy busting sick little pop-n-lock moves on the 'The Tube' under the indifferent eyes of businessmen and construction workers alike. This guy never gives a knowing, ironic wink. Life just keeps on getting quite excitinger and excitinger. Pimp strut smoothed by a Burberry trench. Laptop-Pop wafting on a spritz of Dior Sauvage. ‘Selected Works of Jimothy Lacoste’ is a survey of nearly a decade’s worth of Jimothy’s relentless and independent Internet output. It’s a crowning achievement in the limited edition vinyl format and for British-American relations in the 21st Century.
