Words of Wisdom a la Nicki Minaj

SHOULDA SENT A THANK YOU NOTE, YA LIL HOE!

THIS MADE MY DAY

are all djs whores?

keebz: oh btw dude
keebz: so you remember how back in the day (aka maybe 3 weeks/1 month ago) we couldn't get VDJ hooked up to my decks and mixer and couldn't find a button to sync bpms?
me: mmhm
keebz: got them hooked up (albeit to traktor, not vdj [although i actually think traktor is a much better interface]). found the button.
me: ohhh beautiful
keebz: soo if you want to mess around with my stuff at any point let me know
keebz: wait that sounded like a terrible pick up line?
me: ahahhHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA
me: it sounded incredibly self sacrificing

that's what friends are for <3

10 Rando Thoughts Before I Go to Sleep

1. Today I realized that Urban Outfitters is the place you hear the original versions of songs that mainstream rap artists these days sample from. I didn't know those casino machine sounds from Missy Elliott's "Lose Control" was ripped from the 80s. Hm.

2. Cat Power's "Love and Communication" is a crazyass song. It's my go-to "I don't know how I feel but I don't want to listen to anything overtly depressing so at least let me be moody" song.

3. On a similar note, her "Sea of Love" cover is, as much as I hated Juno, undeniable. <3

4. I wish one day Beck could write me an album.

Lucky snatch.

5. I am constantly caught between what I know makes me happy and what I have been socially conditioned to believe will bring me happiness. Most times I feel enslaved, but sometimes I perpetuate my own victimization. Lose-lose.

6. I am confused...

7. I'm much more productive in the real world. And happier. But times like these I really miss my little college bubble.

8. Why is it so fucking hard to get a bike fixed in the city? I guess living in the bike capital of CA for the past four years got me accustomed to a certain standard of living. I lived next to a public bike pump for half my Davis life. Everywhere you turned there was a bike shop. Even one on campus. Not here. 50 cents for air at the closest Shell. Air. Stupid.

9. The last two Valentines I had made me feel kinda dumb for buying into the commercialization. But I don't think a girl should ever feel guilty about wanting flowers.

10. One of my tattoos represents a theory I learned in the first acting class I ever took five years ago. It is the concept that we all have a core "I" that never changes within us, but according to who we're around, we alter that "I" into seven different "me's" to adapt to the unique needs of the situation.

I used to be the kind of person who had seven very distinguishable "me's". I wasn't very comfortable letting people see the "I". I was more concerned with behaving appropriately than being myself. As a result, I didn't like people very much.

But long story short, I got over it. I got over myself. And I love people now. I'm not scared to talk to people anymore.

And yet recently I find myself in a situation where "I" am so apprehensive about coming out. I hate it. I remember feeling this way all the time when I was younger. It's so crippling. I recognize the fear--fear of disappointment, repeating failures, etc. etc.--but it doesn't make sense that I care this much.

Well maybe I should own up to that first.

That's 10. Told you they were random.

The Girl and the Robot

Whoa. So much to say about this song.

First of all, I love it. God bless the Swedes on this collab.

Most pop songs either remain in a major key throughout the entire song or at least start out in minor chords and rewards you with a major chord release via chorus. Thus fulfills the formula of pop bliss.

"The Girl and the Robot" may be disguised as your standard electro-pop dance anthem but is actually miles apart from anything I've heard. It never strays from the minor key. You wait and you wait. But there is no chorus. There is no release.

And that's what makes it perfect. Though the melody abstains from relieving its own stress at any point during the song, it meshes beautifully with the emotionally bludgeoned state of the narrator. She's admittedly hit rock bottom as she pleads for her lover to call and waits relentlessly for him to come home. But just as our reward never arrives in the form of melody, he doesn't either.

It reminds me of Alexander Solzhenitsyn's short novel, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, which takes place during just a single day in a Soviet labor camp during the Stalinist regime. This book has no chapters. There are no breaks in pace as we sink deeper and deeper into the daily routine of Ivan Denisovich. He wakes up every biting, cold morning with dejection in his heart, and the only brief period of time is he able to shake himself from this cruel reality is when he shuts his eyes and goes to bed. End scene.

Denisovich's doom is as constant (though obviously not equatable in nature--well, maybe) as Robyn's as she drives the melody through a string of accusive verses but never achieves gratification.

Maybe that's why I can listen to this song over and over and over and over again. I'm so fascinated by the melody that I keep waiting for the chorus to come. But of course it doesn't. So I play it again because subconsciously I am still expecting.

But when has something good ever come out of expectations?

And since when did this post about a great song turn into yet another existential self-jerk?

Life.

Haterade. It tastes so gud.

i can't tell you how much i love it when i hear a good dj ripping on the bullshit pretty boy famewhore ones. and i fucking LOVE that if you start to type in "why do people hate tiesto" or "why do people hate david guetta" on google, you don't even have to complete the question. millions have asked before you.

try the same question with boys noize, justice, or mstrkrft--no results.

so put your hands in the air if you're just another "elitist prick" who loves to hate on a "good artist because he gets very popular".

-.-

or, you can put your hands in the air if you just plain and simple hate repetitive, banal trance music, the commodification of yet another punk identity, and of course, djs who think they're heirs of the holy grail.

"Bitches on my dick cuz I look like edward james olmos"

what an asshole <3