One Song

If you know me, you know that after Matt and Kim I've written off synth pop duos for LIFE!  But then Child Actor. Holy shit is Max Heath is a synth god. His electro-sonic wave machine just fucking made me dance like premenopausal, middle-aged woman in the rain of her sexual reawakening.  I don't know if this was appropriate considering "El 7 De Septiembre (Mecano Cover)" is dedicated to Venezuela. But bros it's all in Español, so I just hugged myself hard, and swayed like you sway when you just need to sway the day away.  Singer Natalie Plaza lends a sweetness to the track. It's what made me smile as I hugged myself while I swayed rather than the normal way I do that.  I loved Child...

Three thoughts: 1. People who type liKE thIS are fucking aSShOleS. (EDIT: WHY AM I SAYING THIS? Because Elle Belle, before we published this, had his named spelled like eLLe beLLe and I wanted to fucking stab him for being l33t AND for not considering his environment when printing this document, but then this adorable chiseled calved asshole gets all studious and changes it to a much more respectable Elle Belle. See internet? That's how you change the world. Put your genitals on the internet and all of a sudden you've got pull in the music industry.) 2. This is Arcade Fire-y but with snapping fingers and being played at the end of The Breakfast Club, as opposed to being played unironically inside a cafe in Brooklyn.  3. I love it but hate...

This song is like going to a Halloween party and you decide to dress up as a cat. And then when you get there everybody else is dressed like a cat too. As everybody starts to take LSD the inner cat comes out and people start rubbing up against corners and doing that figure eight weaving around each other's legs.  Then you wake up in the morning because you fell off the arm of your friend's couch.  Hey Tiger Waves, CAN I DIRECT THE VIDEO FOR THIS SONG? 

What. The. Fuck? I'm obsssed with this song. Who are you FERN? Why do you have one song on Soundcloud and a Facebook account with little to no information? 'It Comes Slow' is a dichatomy of opposing forces. It's sweet and soothing, but intense as fuck. It just builds and builds to the point you are like: 'Why am I crying while doing burpees in my foyer?"  I want more songs like this in my life. I want each one of my senses to experience it in some form or another. I love you FERN and I don't even know you. 

IMPORTANT NOTE: Somehow the embed code we used says the track is "private", yet it's public (SEE, CLICK HERE), but I found a live performance of this song, and it's at the bottom of the page. SO SCROLL BRO SCROLL! The first time I heard Boom Forest was on a tour video from PHOX or something. I wasn't really paying attention to what was on the video because I was stuck holding my chest with both my hands over my heart while my head was slumped on top of my desk. It was fucking excruciatingly beautiful. I immediately emailed PHOX and said "WHO IS SINGING THAT SONG AT (insert time stamp on video) THAT HAS ME WEEPY AS FUCK?". They wrote back and said only "Boom Forest". I spent the next three hours listening to his bandcamp page and telling myself I was never...

I LOVE THAT I DON'T KNOW WHO ANYONE IS ANYMORE! I mean, fer serious, who the fuck is Sympathetic Frequencies?  OH YOU MEAN THE BAND I HAVE TO SPELL SIX TIMES TO GET RIGHT? I'd like to officially state that I've shortened their 8 years long band name and will from here on out only refer to them as Sympcies. Sympcies is probably the most fucking adorable band name you're going to want to tattoo on your left forearm bro. And if you DO get that tattooed, well, you're the super fucking Sympcies fan we've been looking for. OH SYMPCIES? They're the titties right? The new single "Wake Up" is a perfect example of a wide open sound bros; it's like Apollo Run and RIBS and The 1975, but with super tight long...

I don't know shit about UK garage or 2 step. I don't know shit about Raphaella or Zed Bias. I don't even know if what I do equates to actual dancing. But I know I've listened to this "Dropping Like Flies" shit for about a half hour and I'm about to get fucking naked and toss lunch meat up in the air, hoping it lands on a belly or a thigh. Whether it's my belly or my thigh is up in the air (LIKE DAT MEAT BRUH). Is all music from over there this fucking bouncey balls? Jesus balls on a bucket of beef brine this is fucking awesome. If this is what everything sounds like where Raphaella or Zed Bias live, I think I deserve a vacation so I can toss ALL my meat up in the air bros. Damn.

Sometimes the urge hits to write about a song or an artist or an album RIGHT AWAY! Other times a little marinating is in order.  I was going through our submissions, tagging bands or songs or videos that I might just get up the energy to write about. I also save links to shit that I come across while browsing the internet and using social media. Every now and then a lazy Sunday comes along and I have a few minutes to go back and listen and fuck with people who I might not normally fuck with, or revisit what I've saved, if only to question my own sanity.  Today is one of those days.  I found living in the bottom of my saved links a little Soundcloud entry called "Let Go" from certified Syffal homie and CLDMKRS adorable straight-man, Kid Presentable...

I'm not in the mood for new music. Fuck new music. Fuck all these asshole bands writing 7,000 word bios that say nothing about what they actually sound like but take the long way to arrive at their own description of what they WANT to sound like. Fuck all these gofundme kickstarting assholes assuming anyone cares enough about complete strangers "getting into the studio" or pre-paying for a "vinyl reissue" of an EP that was released four years ago and no one ever bought it back then but because it's "on vinyl" all of a sudden it has value. Fuck your ideas, fuck your half assed follow through, fuck your photoshoots before having actual music people enjoy. I'm sick of new music right now. I'm sick of everything. And who the fuck is Gregory Uhlmann and why the fuck is he...

Whoever the fuck Twin Limb is, I'm, for lack of a better word, engulfed by this fucking song "Don't Even Think". Aptly titled, I don't think I had one coherent thought the entire first three times through this fucking song. Combining the throats of Monica Martin from PHOX and maybe a completely fucking stoned Florence from Florence + The Machine, Twin Limb creates a nearly 6 minute romp through the pillowy confines of my imagination. Instead of everyone wearing bedshirts, we're all gowned in marshmallows and cardboard cutouts of clouds, it's all very Rocky Horror without the visage of Tim Curry's teeth floating around behind you.  Gorgeous might not hold enough oomph to describe this fucking song, but it'll have to do because I'm limp, listless...