Tiny Creature

After a quick succession of uniquely soulful electro-prog albums, Baltimore's Cex loomed ominously on the periphery of pop stardom. He wore prominent underground record labels the way other rising artists wore gaudy diamond jewelry; the music press salivated like hyenas behind a hunting tigress, eager to feed on the havoc this unpredictable wunderkind was sure to wreak upon the increasingly conservative American music scene. All of this, though, was dashed when Cex attempted to release the cyberotic love letter that is Tiny Creature, a miniature synthetic opera that explicitly invokes an unbridled lust so inappropriate it might leave even Nabokov or de Sade speechless. In an era which so relishes both the integration of digital technology into our sexuality and the story of the once-celebrated hero's fall from grace, it is a testament to the intense graphic imagery Cex wrings from his electronic orchestra that his name is mentioned only in whispers of late. After finding his labels distancing themselves from him, legitimate venues banning his live show and online media outlets blacklisting all associated projects, Cex turned to longtime friend and advocate Kid606's Tigerbeat6 to make sure that his obscene opus could be heard by the public. Convinced that history would vindicate Tiny Creature like it did like earlier boundary-pushing works by James Joyce, Gore Vidal, and Prince, 606 has risked potential years of litigation to publish this nasty, nasty album.