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I draw hearts on my Trapper Keeper for Haerts. I listen to Haerts in a rented tux with the untied bowtie dejectedly hung around my neck. I kick the dirt on the ground in frustration for Haerts. Why? Becuase every song sounds like 80's prom heart-break.  I FUCKING LOVE HAERTS.

I clicked play on this sumbitch this morning after my kids got on the bus. It's been unseasonably warm, the windows are still all dew-ey, the sun was coming up to my right, and I'm only wearing my trademark hoodie and jeans as I drive myself to work.  Simply put, it's fucking comfortable outside righ meow.  Yet, the sad part, that most conscious humans on earth understand, is that we're experiencing this shift in seasons because we've been steady dicks to the environment. This song, "8.50", from Dead Sea has that sort of shimmering comfortable sweatpants and tube top pleasure laid out as a sort of framework for the track, but then the vocal is that odd sort of hopeless and meek murmur, somehow making the juxtaposition of the two sides the focal point of the track.  I fucking...

My post rock appetite runs deep. Runs deep. So deep. So deep. {insert comment about how it puts my butt to sleep, but in a good way and not at all sexual} *pops hip* When my thrusting hip hop fists and pulsating electronic dance hips need a rest, I can always rely on instrumental brooding rock shit to carry me. My latest fascination is with my education, who just dropped the track "Open Marriages", which is a blend of 70s fuzz and late 90s romantic comedy soundtracks.  I fucking love overlaid guitar riffs, almost as much as I love a perfect intro into a song. "Open Marriages" has fucking both. Equal parts soothing and aggressive, there is something so fucking inspiring about a track that makes you want to both shut your eyes and clench your fists. Use this song for...

One time I was on stage in front of a few hundred people and my amp straight up fried. I froze, but only for like two tree seconds, then took my guitar off, and danced how you would imagine I would dance to this song. I was a gangly jangly mess of arms and elbows bros.  That event solidified the fact that I feel that I'm comfortable in the face of technology wanting to stick its finger in my bum, and also that I can dance to Wolffe tracks waaaaaaay before she was even born bro. Wolffe sort of reminds me of the pop music I act like I can't stand but secretly love hearing everywhere I go, except Wolffe makes me want to strip naked, hop into bed, and do the running man sideways so my feets make that "ZEEOOOW ZEEEOOOOW" shooshing sound in the sheets bro. FUCK YEAH WOLFFE! THAT LINE THROUGH...

What was it that the great George W. Bush said? “There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again.” Well, you get the idea: Shame on yourself.  Do you get upset at the Grammys every year? Do you complain that they're not relevant? Do you get butt sores if your favorite artist does not win the award?  If the answer is 'yes'. Then SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DON'T WATCH THE SHOW. You know why? Because the Grammys are never going to appease you. They will keep letting you down. They will keep nominating popular artists over equally deserving and lesser known artists. They will keep awarding 'best new artist' to artists who have already been around and relevant for 5...

I listened to this track more than a dozen times this weekend. Feeling like a take on something Saltillo would release, this shit has me comfortably brooding. As a sucker for strings that are tastefully executed, I'm even more of a minor key fanboy than one might imagine. The clackety clack of the drums almost feels like shackles being dragged across a dungeon floor and I fucking love it. Introspective and evil, I could listen to this for the rest of my life and not care it's so fucking comfy. No clue who Mebitek is, but The Unconscious has me hitting repeat all damn day.