The following is a lightly touched up article I wrote during an all-nighter a few weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if I should make it public but since my friend Tom said I should release something “human/personal” after the last two weeks of techno-nihilism I thought this could be an interesting escape. So, tread carefully and if I unintentionally covered things incorrectly or was unintentionally insensitive please blame Tom instead of expecting to me have basic levels of accountability – I was tired!
As the two friends who’ll eventually get roped into reading this trainwreck of a blog post will know, I’m a bit of a messy bitch and because of this I have an obsession with music that’s dramatic and hyper-emotional to the point of being extremely cheesy. If your music doesn’t make you sound like you’d impulsively put your hand down a shredder after being ghosted by a dude I just don’t have time for you anymore. This obsession has manifested itself in three ways over the last month – either through listening to a lot of early Xiu Xiu and the same three Björk songs on repeat with headphones on, hopping on the inevitable “The Prodigy was good actually” bandwagon before half of RYM or blaring some of the tackiest 2000s pop music at four in the morning. And to think that only two years ago I was one of those people who thought that listening to Bandcamp bands was a personality trait! Anyways, this brings us to this current point in time. I’m sitting at my laptop at a stupid hour in the morning feeling slightly sad and vaguely caffeinated trying to capture the exact reason why I’m just after listening to the song “All The Things She Said” for the seventh time in a row and why I’m just after spamming one of my uninterested friends with several discord messages about the band’s Wikipedia page. I’m really living my best life and this was a great idea.