One Song

I haven't listened to a Tom DeLonge song on purpose in a decade or more. When I was in college a few of my roommates were Blink 182 diehards, but I sort of missed the boat because when I lived in California it wasn't cool to like Blink because other people outside of California now liked Blink and California has to be FIRST and the ONLY people to like something or it becomes stale. It goes from WOOOOO! to EWWWWW! faster than you can say "Isla Vista is about to crumble into the ocean bro". So I didn't hate on the music, I was just never around it and when I was around it I was drinking Natty Light and hearing about all the finger banging all of my disease riddled roommates were doing.  But my bro Moses sent over this link for Angels & Airwaves and I...

I love how Astronauts. sound like ear pillows from the fucking get-go. It's like every song of theirs is meticulously crafted to be both soul warming and mood cooling, like it's the icy hot of ear insertables.  I've also been playing an air-xylophone at my desk since discovering this track this morning. Every time the phone stops ringing I start the fucker over and let the warm cool chilling heats of "You Can Turn It Off" cascade over my love handles and up and around my loins. Astronauts. is the soundtrack to my life as filmed on an 8mm camera and played back at half speed, and I've never wanted to hug an entire band more than I do right fucking now for creating such a comfortable place to disrobe and spin in circles. Don't look at me like that...

I DON'T KNOW WHO THIS IS BUT IT FEELS LIKE I KNOW EXACTLY WHO THIS IS AND I FUCKING LOVE IT. Pleasure House sound like a raunchy mix between Arctic Monkeys, Foals, and The 1975 if they had facial hair and didn't get beat up on the playground. I fucking love it. I've said I fucking love it twice already. Now thrice. I like how modern pop rock isn't shying away from vocals that are this fucking endearing. I also appreciate the guitar player just jerking off the wah in the background, which takes the "holy shit this might be super fucking produced, you can't even hear the fucking picking noise on the strings" feel and makes it a little less stuffy. It's almost like a throw rug with a piss stain on it. While it might seem out of place if you're only looking at the piss stain...

I've listened to this song over a dozen times, a few spins in a row, a few days apart.  I didn't care for this shit the first two times, but every time it came across my inbox I thought "huh, Fell Runner, sounds like LODE RUNNER the video game I played before I had pubes, I should listen", and then I would remember the blue and white picture of the ram and think "I've heard this before". Then I'd forget it was playing and then close out the tab at the end of the day. TODAY I HAVE YET TO X OUT THE FUCKING TAB BECAUSE I'M TOO BUSY PLAYING PENCIL DRUMS ON MY DESK AND I'M SUPER GOOD LOOKING WHILE DOING SO. Fell Runner sound like they have ALL THE TIME SIGNATURES and are just playing nice and easy so we don't get lost. You can almost feel the fucking talented...

Some songs make we want to write essays, like that Andrew Bird video I published yesterday. Some songs just make me want to shut up. I don't really have anything to say about this new track from M83.  So just sit back and loosen your belt and close your eyes. DO IT. Close your eyes. I can see that your eyes aren't closed yet.  ....Okay Now let this song take you on a fucking journey. 

This dude Brookfield is SO fucking GENTLE. DAAAAMN this dude rubs my shoulders like a fucking BRO when his musics be in my side faceholes.  Airy and ethereal, I can't help but look out the window whenever his music is on, which is extremely dangerous while driving and/or injecting oneself with vitamin B12. Not that I've been injecting myself with vitamin B12, but if I was, shit, I would NOT be listening to Brookfield. The latest single to drop is "Kaleidoscope", which is a beautiful splooge on the palm of my North American spring that I have yet to wipe off, because I'm too busy staring off into the distance to care that I look like I'm holding a load in my cupped hand. The production on all of Brookfield's music has been crisp as fuck, but this...

I don't know who Dustin Kensrue is. I don't know how to pronounce his name. I don't know what dude's deal is.  But this is some shit. I've always been on guard because of the fact that I love me some Miley, hawrd. No seriously, some Miley Cyrus shit is fucking awesome. I think she's genuinely talented, plus my daughter watches Hannah Montana all the fucking time when she isn't grounded from all technology for forgetting to wipe her ass and brush her teeth. Hell, I even like the fact that she annoys so many people with her antics because it means she's making an impression. While I don't always love everything she does, I do love me some Miley bro. Plus, no matter your opinion of her persona, her voice is unfuckwitable. So when someone sends a link to a cover of...

I hit play on this and walked away, came back about three minutes in and turned it off. Then I spent the next 15 minutes thinking about the song until I audibly "do do doo, do do doo doot diddah doo"'d and told myself to go back through my internet history and find that fucking song. Whoever the fuck Andy Shauf is, "The Magician" is on some reruns of Who's the Boss type red brick and white trim shit. It's comfortable and familiar and introspective but it's rusty, like the baby blue Tony Danza handyman van in the driveway. It's therapeutic stare out the window while it's raining music, and if that was an oboe that just tooted, it touched me.  Oh relax, it's not supposed to mean anything. Andy Shauf just makes me remember things that have nothing...

Allow me to fanboy out a second right quick. NEW P.O.S.????? BROLY SHIT BRO, I FUCKING NEEDED SOMETHING TO ESCORT MY FISTS INTO THE FUCKING AIR LIKE I NEEDED THE SNOW TO FUCKING MELT AND A NICE STEADY RAIN RINSE OFF ALL THE BULLSHIT MEMORIES OF A WINTER THAT CAN SUCK MY ASS. A new P.O.S. is exactly what the fuck I wanted without knowing I wanted it damnit. (Is this where the kids say "yaaaas"? JUST WONDERING.) P.O.S.'s "sleepdrone​/​superposition" is an eight minute and forty eight second rage filled celebration of anger. The only thing consistent throughout this entire song is your fingernails buried deep into the skin of your palms. Holy FUCK this dude encites the part of me that wants to break shit, and then calmly and...

This fucking band, Howard, is on some tickle the grundle shit.  I wrote about their last single "Glass" a few weeks ago (see below) and I was smitten with the crickety blippety smack smack, and I thought I understood what was happening here. But here now I'm here now to admit now that my now here before it was here now was slightly askew because my here right here is starting to make sense right here right now.  See, "Plastic" is sampled excusively from the album Religion that I've been geeking out on since it was tossed on my manpod back in late January. As a member of the fanboy guild of bands actually deserving of fanboys, HOLY SHIT THAT'S INCREDIBLE. So this band, Howard, is so fucking balls they sample their own music which...