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Biography

While 100 gecs continues to push the boundaries of experimental music and remains active as of 2024, their journey from obscure internet oddities to underground darlings reads like a fever dream scripted by the algorithm gods themselves. The duo's trajectory has been anything but conventional, much like everything else about their chaotic musical universe.

Laura Les and Dylan Brady, the masterminds behind this sonic assault on traditional genre boundaries, have spent the better part of the last decade systematically dismantling what popular music is supposed to sound like. Their 2023 album "10,000 gecs" served as both a refinement and an amplification of their trademark sound – a bewildering amalgamation of hyperpop, breakcore, nu-metal, country, and whatever other genres happened to be lying around their digital workstation on any given day. The album featured collaborations with artists like Skrillex and further cemented their reputation as the mad scientists of contemporary music production.

The duo's influence on internet culture and music cannot be overstated. They've become patron saints of the extremely online generation, inspiring countless TikTok memes, spawning an entire subgenre of hyperpop imitators, and proving that music doesn't need to make traditional sense to make an emotional impact. Their aesthetic – equal parts nostalgic and futuristic, sincere and ironic – has influenced everything from fashion to meme culture, creating a visual language as distinctive as their sonic one.

Career-defining moments came thick and fast following their breakthrough. Their remix album "1000 gecs and The Tree of Clues" in 2020 featured reworkings by artists ranging from Fall Out Boy to Charli XCX, legitimizing their sound within both mainstream and underground circles. Live performances became legendary affairs, with fans forming mosh pits to songs that theoretically shouldn't inspire moshing but somehow absolutely do. Their 2022 tour saw them selling out venues across North America and Europe, proving that their internet fame could translate to real-world devotion.

The breakthrough that changed everything was their 2019 debut album "1000 gecs," a 23-minute sonic rollercoaster that sounded like it was recorded inside a malfunctioning video game console. Songs like "money machine" and "stupid horse" became unlikely anthems for a generation raised on internet culture and ADHD-inducing content consumption. The album was initially dismissed by many as an elaborate joke, but its emotional core and undeniable catchiness gradually won over critics and fans alike. It wasn't just music; it was a statement about what music could be in the digital age.

Their musical style defies easy categorization, which is precisely the point. Imagine if a computer virus gained sentience and decided to make pop music – that's the closest approximation to the 100 gecs experience. They sample everything from ska to screamo, often within the same song, creating a hyperactive collage that somehow coheres into something resembling traditional song structure. Their production techniques involve pitch-shifting vocals to cartoonish extremes, layering disparate elements until they create something entirely new, and maintaining an aesthetic that's simultaneously lo-fi and maximalist.

The origins of 100 gecs trace back to the unlikely friendship between Laura Les and Dylan Brady, who met while studying at Webster University in St. Louis. Both had been making experimental electronic music independently – Les under various aliases and Brady as part of the label Dog Show Records' roster of boundary-pushing artists. Their collaboration began organically, bonded by a shared love of pushing music to its breaking point and a mutual appreciation for the absurd.

Brady brought a background in harsh noise and experimental electronic music, while Les contributed pop sensibilities filtered through a distinctly queer and transgender perspective. Their combined approach resulted in music that was simultaneously abrasive and accessible, challenging and catchy. They weren't trying to make "difficult" music for its own sake; they were genuinely attempting to create the most exciting sounds possible using whatever tools were available.

What makes 100 gecs remarkable isn't just their willingness to be weird – it's their ability to find genuine emotion and connection within the chaos. Beneath the pitch-shifted vocals and breakneck tempo changes lie real songs about love, anxiety, identity, and the peculiar experience of being young in the digital age. They've created a new template for what pop music can be, proving that innovation and accessibility aren't mutually exclusive, and that sometimes the most sincere art comes disguised as complete nonsense.