Starcadian

I remember the first time I saw Vision Quest.

Besides nosebleeds and singlet crotch bulges, what the movie taught me most was that wearing a garbage bag was a necessity when trying to make weight.

Also, if you put some serious synths and some partially cheesy electronic drums alone in a room together, someone is going to fucking wrassle bros. And if they weren't going to wrassle, well, your dad was going to rent the extra room in your crib out to some chick with a moist hole and a suspicious past.

That vibe of half-corny intensity, where you can see yourself completely immersed in the environment and climate of the movie you're watching just the same as finding it dumb and turning the channel (or inserting a new VHS tape, BUT ONLY AFTER BEING KINDING AND REWINDING THO BRO). For some strange reason John Hughes movies, and most of the top movies from 1985, kept you in the fucking zone after only a few minutes. That captivatingly refreshing sense of "I know these feels, these feels know me, every movie, like life, has sexual tension" are the predominant tastes those of us who grew up on 80s movies remember.

But then who the Fuck is Starcadian? How the Fuck does Starcadian get those cool fucking triangles to show up in his name? When did Starcadian force me to remember that scene in Starman where the dude's ass is all front and center and completely pimple free and all the womenfolk around me are covering their mouths? Why would a guy call himself Starcadian if he wasn't himself from the motherfucking stars tho bro? But does the "cadian" allude to the fact that he's from Canada?

There are all of these fucking questions, yet none of them fucking matter once I'm fifteen seconds into the new new from Starcadian titled Saturdaze.

Jesus balls on a 1974 Ford LTD station wagon one might refer to as an "AUTO-MO-BEEEEL", all at once I'm 15 and horny again. But instead of being in the mid-90s (as was the case in reality), I'm in the bushes peeping through my dad's binoculars up into Millie from the Boy Who Could Fly's bedroom hoping to catch a glimpse of that training bra covered pale skin. Even the creepiest of creep moves aren't as creepy when you're seeing the world through VHS filtered field of vision (quest) bro.

Starcadian steps up in 2014 with the perfect method in which to unite your love of 80s culture and modern pornography. Your ears are covered in over the ear headphones that weigh seven fucking pounds, the cord itself is a curly q with a 1/4" jack, you're wearing fucking fluorescent yellow wristbands, and the smell on your palate is flooded with the plasticky smell of a three year old Playboy magazine with strange stains melting certain pages together that might make a reading experience pointless, but a masturbatory session A motherfucking OK.

That weird feeling that girls your age dig it when you tuck your shirt in and tight roll your cuffs just above your ankles, and that bolo tie bro? OH THAT BOLO TIE BRO.

Saturdaze is the high school dance as a freshman bro. This shit is Can't Buy Me Love and Karate Kid without all the fucking bullying.

Declaring this as radical would be a fucking understatement.

Starcadian is my mom's iron skillfully applying the Powell Peralta patch to my stone washed jean jacket mere minutes before I head out for a clutch ass motherfucking game of Kick the Can.

If you think all I'm doing is painting a picture of nostalgia and wet dreams, you're only half right. This is back then, but fast forwarded bro.