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Preface:

Oh man, I bet you guys thought I was dead, right? Turns out I’m not dead, just dead inside. Accordingly, I promise no accuracy in any of the following, perhaps with the exception of “Reviews” and “Comment.”

Full Albums:

  • The Afghan Whigs, 1965
  • Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Beat the Devil’s Tattoo
  • The Cure, Boys Don’t Cry and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me1
  • Daft Punk, Tron: Legacy (Original Soundtrack)
  • Fall Out Boy, Folie A Deux
  • Fleetwood Mac, Rumours
  • GZA, Liquid Swords and Pro Tools2
  • The Hold Steady, Separation Sunday
  • Interpol, Interpol
  • Kanye West, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
  • Kings of Leon, Aha Shake Heartbreak and Come Around Sundown
  • LCD Soundsystem, This is Happening!
  • Lily Allen, It’s not me, it’s you
  • Living Things, Year of the Lion
  • Mayer Hawthorne, A Strange Arrangement
  • Method Man, Tical
  • Pearl Jam, VS.
  • Raekwon, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx
  • Rage Against the Machine, Rage Against the Machine
  • Robyn, Body Talk
  • Santogold, Santogold
  • Saves the Day, Stay what you are
  • Spoon, Gimme Fiction and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga3
  • Van Halen, Diver Down

Songs of Vacation:

  • Big K.R.I.T, “Hometown Hero (Remix Feat. Yelawolf)”
  • Benzi, “Gotta Make this Move”
  • Cee Lo Green, “Wildflower”
  • Common, “The Light”
  • The Cure, “Hey You!”
  • The Heavy, “How You Like Me Now?”
  • Interpol, “Obstacle 1”
  • Katy Perry, “Teenage Dream”
  • Kings of Leon, “Birthday”
  • The Police, “Bring on the Night”
  • Robyn, “Indestructible”
  • Warren Zevon, “Werewolves of London”

Reviews:

1. The disparity between these two albums is incredible. I’ve only listened to the former once but I love the latter. “Sprawling” comes to mind and it really could go for some tightening up but the problem is I think I like it as is. It’s almost too long but for some reason I like it at that length. I think I’m supposed to listen more closely to the words on the former and decide I love it just as much, but we’ll see.

2. Why he’s named The Genius: “Speakin’ of this art form, this slang is dangerous./MC’s are like sperm cells: a gang of us/fightin’ to reach the egg/Bitin’ or lose a leg/Odds are like one in ten million–a thin thread./One from a thousand speaks in his own voice,/the other 999 imitate without choice;/never even knowing it until the going gets rough;/see the amplified sample I’ve grown with.” That boy like Einstein to science.

3. I worry they’re so arty that I don’t get it. I’ve seen some reviews that encouraged me to put them on my Christmas wishlist, but a lot of the reviews seemed to praise them because they write obscure, nearly-nonsensical poetry with a noise-rock foundation supporting it all. I should love this because that’s kind of what the Kings of Leon are doing, too: poetic songs with a very specific audience that frequently don’t tell much more than a tiny vignette, if anything. These aren’t Taylor Swift songs where it’s a song from her diary, it’s a song that’s meant to be open-ended and open to interpretation. I have a slight problem with that right now because I keep looking for a bigger theme, a uniting idea. What I really should be doing is just what I do with Kings of Leon: let the idea go and sink into the song. But they’re a very different band. So I will keep listening and attempt to crack this, despite my worries of excessive artyness.

Comment:

I just don’t know if I could live in Houston. Austin might work, but Holy Fuck no one seems to have public transportation as good as New York. I also just feel like I’ll never meet women in Texas. It felt like the second I got back, I reverted to my high school psyche: “I have to meet at least one girl tonight.” “I hope _____ will be there and I can talk to her.” “Oh shit, _______”s here, I’m not going to talk to her.” “Wow, she’s hot, don’t look at her.” “Where’d my friends go?” “How are we going to get home?” “There are so many dudes here. If I ever see a woman, I wonder if I’ll remember not to talk about circumcisionsA, boobs or video games?”

I hate all of that: in New York, I usually just try to keep my foot out of my mouth and do my best to not talk about my own life–because my career right now is kind of depressing. I never want to talk about it because I’m trying to fix it even though it feels like I can’t. I didn’t come here to talk about me and my shitty job. I came here to meet you, attractive woman; I came here to hang out with you, awesome friend. I couldn’t give a shit about my job right now, let’s talk about stuff you like and do stuff you like–except drugs, I’m not doing drugs.

Plus, the second I’m in my seat on the plane back to New York, I’m sitting next to a babe. I’m just on my way back and I’m sitting next to an attractive woman. I see that as nothing less than an omen. That and the fact that she would not stop making the googly eyes at me at the baggage claim. Not to read into it too much, but I don’t want to move back to Texas until, like, retirement–if that ever happens.

A: The following sentence is 100% true: The Dick Clique talked about circumcisions in front of a couple of girls over Christmas break like the girls weren’t there. I mean, it’s not really a bad thing, it’s healthy, but I obviously saw none of them naked. The girls, not the circumcisions.

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