I lied to my boss—a pretty chill guy who isn’t much older than myself—in order to be able to leave an hour or so early today so I could listen to this stream in peace. Tomorrow when I come in, I’ll be honest with him and say I went on a pilgrimage to Heaven. And he’ll understand.
Annnnnnd thank you Spoon for justifying, yet again, my spending $75 on the one day you perform at Boston Calling.
Where the Wild Things Are?
Either way, Weezer’s consistency (or lack thereof) confuses me. I can’t tell if I’m just attached to the memories of the Blue and Green Albums in high school, or if they’re genuinely just unchanging for the most part. Or if they’re like living on life support and the cord needs to be snipped.
Hahaha, fuck. I can see Brian Williams now.
Also, the loop in the song is fucking maddening, like gnat that gets in your sweaty ear while you’re running.
It appears as though Mistah Braff is in a competition with himself for having Indiest Soundtrack to A Film Indier Than Garden State. And, admittedly, I did love Garden State’s soundtrack, I don’t know if I can handle another competition between the World Cup, Wimbledon, and MLB, Dr. Dorian.
I really dig this track.
That said, for some reason this unfortunate thing popped into my head as soon as I heard it the first time:
I bet the SNL skit writing dudes are clinking beers in some office right now.
Someone needs to tell me the secret of getting into Future Islands, because I’m tryin’. Just when I start to like a song, something negative happens, or I’m reminded of the lead singer’s likeness to an alternative universe Sheldon from Big Bang Theory, and I just can’t take that seriously.
I’ve never listened to a Black Lips song—at least not while I was in a cognizant state of mind. Regardless, this guy seems like so many burned-out, pseudo-activist floaters that I see around my neck of the woods. Even if he had valid points to express, it’s like gnomes in his brain are just dicking around instead of working at the articulation machines.
Even still, Lorde is mostly whack (though relatively harmless) for a variety of reasons. One of which being a more intelligible, more informed version of what Cole was trying to say.