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A version of me has been here before. Not this version. |
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This is my......bazillionth blog. Maybe it will last... Wish in one hand...  
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"The Soundtrack of Your Life"  I didn’t quite realize this song was twenty-five fucking years old. I find it upsetting to realize this. Yuck. There is literally nothing special about it. It has that older hip-hop sound. More bass, less bounce. Back when people really rapped not just spoke quickly. (Not that this song is a shining example of that.) Their voices are innately angry, even when they are not mad. If you had asked me to make my own list, this song would not have made it. The minute I saw it on the list I knew I had listened to it countless times and it belonged there. If you had asked me if I like this song I would have said something with a shrug attached….”yeah, it’s good.” But the minute I played it (in my headphones) I said (aloud to the room), “Come on, this is a great fucking song.” I also don’t know if I had ever seen the Dead Prez before. I fully enjoyed watching the video and seeing so so many hip hop culture cliches. That is where I live. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" I know I already spent some space on another song’s post bitching about metal and hard rock. But here we go again… Even as far as that shit goes, Metallica is the worst. Just the worst. I couldn’t hate any group more. I couldn’t really even hate any group’s music more. And I have no explanation. I disliked Metallica and then, AND THEN, came the fucking worst song I have ever heard….Enter Sandman. And everyone played it over and over and made you watch as the song forced them into the throes of ecstasy. In the perfect example of “the exception that proves the rule”...considering all it does is make me more steadfast in my hatred….there is one song. It is a very unMetallica-like song, even the drummer says so, which of course helps. I think this list proves, if nothing else, that I dig some dark depressing songs. Like recognizes like. Also - who the fuck can stand Lars Ulrich? He seems….smarmy. And maybe like he needs a throat punch. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" This is another song with no singing. It's weird that there were two of those on the year’s summary. It makes me wonder how many songs are like that and how many of those are on my playlist. Hmmmmm. I like this one simply because of the beat. I don’t like the Gorillaz really. I am not the biggest fan of “digital groups” and it wouldn’t make any difference what they were saying. But I am a fan of some colonization allegory. Some capitalistic exploitation. Some nature wins. So the lyrics also make me happy. But there is a different reason I love it. And I won’t be able to explain it because if I sit and think too hard about it myself - I can’t make it make sense either. Something about its vibe. Something about the stark differences between a capitalistic society and a more indigenous way of life. Something about the slight absurdity of it. The whole thing reminds me of Joe Versus the Volcano. And for reasons unknown I fucking have always loved that show. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" I gave it a shot - I looked at the summary with high hopes. Something on there has to be optimistic about love. Something on there must be fit to use on Valentine’s Day. Alas, it is not the only thing I was denied today. So fuck it. Rick and Morty is amazing. Especially the uncensored version. There is an episode where the hive mind Rick used to date leaves him in a bit of an annihilating fashion. He attempts to attempt suicide with his death ray. This song is playing. I immediately went and looked it up, maybe even before the credits played. I loved it from the minute it began and I have loved it ever since. The extra percussive nature of the music soothes and pleases me, as does the cadence she applies to the lyrics. I mean shit - the episode is called Auto Erotic Assimilation - that's as Valentinesy as my music is gonna get. Plus…if I had a death ray there are many a time I would have vaporized. Me, you, him, her….we all go up in vapor. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" Kid B had a song obsession for a bit, which means that I had a proximity obsession. However - I don’t hate it so that’s okay. And clearly I listened to it past her obsessive period because it made the summary. There is something infectious about it. You can try to resist but when someone beside you is jamming or even really fucking getting down, you catch a little of it no matter how hard you try. There is not too much else to say about it. The lyrics aren’t necessarily Mensa born and the tune of it all isn’t soul-changing. I’d not call it art, like some music, but it is definitely entertainment. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" You know when you hear a song with someone in it that you have never heard before and you fall in total love with their voice? Then you go to seek out and hear other music by that person and realize that you do not really like anything else by that person. It can be disappointing or it can make that original song much better. This is one of those. I already liked X Ambassadors, though I did try not to. And I do admit that when I went seeking I had heard one song by Jacob Banks before without knowing. Not liking him very much has made me love this song so much more. I cannot resist a song with helplessness or…anguish or…sorrow. His verse does so much of that. And his voice in this song, combined with those emotions fucks me up. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" I am off a day on here, and in life. Today is not the eleventh and honestly, that is news to me. Ugh. So here is that one…. My life has gotten slightly crazy for the past week. Like someone is shaking my fucking snow globe. It culminated in a scene I caused at McDonalds. The location that is about 4 minutes down the road from me - because you KNOW the first thing this fucking hick town got some years ago was a McDonalds of course - all the gods save me - it is the worst place I have been in a very very long time. It takes quite a bit for me to cause a scene. I tend to first voice a complaint that is clearly aggressive through my fake smile. A complaint that makes it clear I can be satisfied and sent away or I can remain unsatisfied and remain right there. But when a place makes me cause a scene - I am pretty fucking good at it. Once I threw a bag of frozen nuggets at an employee at Walmart then spent the next two weeks feeling both ashamed and satisfied. For all I know - I am on People of Walmart. I am fine with that. There is NO world where any nuggets of any kind should take 40 minutes. I can bread and fry nuggets in less time. You aren’t killing chickens, you do not employ a plucker, and despite what you clearly believe - we are not standing here for the optics. None of us even think we have ordered real chicken asshole - throw those pink paste patties in the industrial fryer that you never clean and do it like….right the fuck now. You aren’t busy - every single person here is waiting 40 minutes, no matter what they ordered. No one has anything to do for the next 33 minutes. There are some previous words exchanged and some after as well but this is the gist of it - Now I started kind. I swear. But then the manager who is a dick and wants you to know it comes out and address the lobby. “A woman wanted to talk to the manager?” His arms spread out like a ringmaster or… Jesus. “Really? A WOMAN wanted the manager…” as he mad dogs each female straight in the eye. He did not receive an answer within 0.5 seconds and so he throws his hands up and says, “Okay then,” and returns to the very back of the kitchen. It wasn’t me. I hadn’t asked to speak to the manager. But my patience for this place starts out thin. So I did take this opportunity to loudly, loooooouuuuudly, say that “it wasn’t me but I’d be happy to be the one to fucking speak you to now about the way you did that shit.” He doesn’t reply nor return. Not helpful to my attitude. I would have been satisfied with some pushback resulting in an argument and then to leave. But he didn’t engage. He does however send a kid to the register to finally take our cash. But no no no - you don’t get to take our money and not say shit about how you have been telling people it will be 40 minutes. Nope. So I step in between the poor teenager in front of me, who had been bitching with me, and the cashier. I grab the teenager's hand as he holds out his money and am all like, “Nooooooooo, you are NOT about to take this poor boy’s money and not tell him 40 minutes.” The cashier disgustedly says, “What? YOU are next.” So I add, “If we pay for this shit is it going to be 40 minutes?” The cashier says, “Oh hang on, I will answer in a minute.” hahahahahahahaha big big nope. He does not pay. I do not pay. I, in fact, stay and send the next few customers away. I had to drive about 13 miles further to go to a different McDonalds because my sick kid wanted those goddamn nuggets. Here is where rational people say - why do you keep going there? And here is where I say that I can think of nothing more satisfying than a place I can argue with that is only 4 minutes from my house. So what I need today is some zen. Nope. Not some zen. Some fucking zen. And definitely six feet, drugs, or a bandaid. I listen to this song a lot. It really pleases me. It reflects how I feel, well, most of the time. Though the last verse is the best. It makes other people mad. It makes other people on the road roll up their window so their kids can’t hear it. I don’t know nor care what my neighbors think as it blares out of my home’s open windows. If it pisses people off then they too need some fucking zen. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" I have had a terrible terrible evening. Like an awful that surpasses my smart-ass mouth and leaves nothing to say. I therefore went to the list looking for something soothing, since I generally listen to whatever song I have chosen while I do this in case I am struck with any sudden insights. I usually am not. I generally struggle with rap in other languages - though obviously British rap wouldn’t fit this bill. I can speak French and once I reached a level to even just recognize words my mind can’t do it. As it is now I say about 40 percent of everything in my mind in the opposite language. If something is in French I say it in English in my head and if I say shit in English I say it in French in my head. This doesn’t work with rap. They are saying things that rhyme in French but in my mind, the English version doesn’t rhyme and it fucks with the flow. For this reason, I don't really even give other countries’ rap a chance. And in this, British rap unfortunately gets lumped in. But I heard this song on television and it is a transporter. I was a high schooler in the mid-nineties. This song makes me feel like …. I should be driving around in a new red Grand Am that was actually my mom's, the four boys who were always in the car are in the car and we are just driving around the Deliverance-style country at 11 pm getting high. The “back roads.” Listen - one was called Punkinvine and you don’t even want to know how many stories I have from that fucking road. Good ole’ Punkinvine. The radio in the car is really pretty good for not having fucked with it like people tended to do back then, and I have it loud. LOUD. The darkness, the motion, and the weed combined with the bass turning the whole car into a vibrator has us in an induced state of peaceful numbness. It calls to mind the period of my life filled with music like….Too Short, Bone, Tupac, Luniz, MGK. Nowadays I’d just say it is a good headphones song. |
"The Soundtrack of Your Life" For a few years, I cleaned businesses at night with my best friend. I phrase it like that but really it was just an excuse for us to be out together, smoking weed and making money. One of the hottest men I have ever seen in real life occupied one of the offices we did weekly. The office as well as his kick-ass apartment, which we also cleaned for him since we’d have done anything for him, were right up in the heart of downtown. He had lots of money and he spent a lot of it on boogie weed items that he just left lying everywhere. His building was broken into one night and he changed his world all up. It became very surveillance-heavy. But that was his home goddamnit. I have this song that does not at all fit the genre I am about to assign it. But sometimes you can’t help what things are. I discovered a song that my kids and I lovingly call my stripper song. Since I have no rhythm, it isn’t that it makes me break out into pole routines, but it makes me want to. It makes me wish I did. It even sometimes makes me feel like I could. Once discovered….. It was cemented in my little stripper heart. One night while we were cleaning the office I had my headphones and was vacuuming. My stripper song came on and because it was a split building occupied by the same company my friend was on the other side, meaning I was alone and was overtaken by a spirit named Candy or Sparkle while vacuuming. Go about my business finishing everything up and go over to the other side of the building to help my slow-ass friend do something normal people would have completed three times already only to have her excitedly waiting. Standing there giggling, waiting to tell me that the guy had called to tell her he was watching me and I was loving whatever I was listening to. Cuz I had of course set off his little motion sensor and he had pulled the camera up on his phone and watched me pseudo-strip around his office. Can you stuff weed in a g-string? Also - how fucking amazing is Missio?! It won’t be the last song on this list because they made last year's playlist summary more times than I would have guessed. |
| "The Soundtrack of Your Life" Kid A is a percussionist. In class, that means all things percussion - from a marimba to a gong and all drums in between. She marches snare though. Today was the ISSMA solo/ensemble competition. While the sounds of a drum, a practice pad, and a drumset, often fill my home, and the goddamn marching band metronome haunts my dreams - today I stood outside of a percussion room and checked children in for 8 hours. The positioning of this room also had me beside the percussion warm-up room. This room was the gym. The motherfucking gym. An echo chamber of a minimum of 10 kids at any given time all playing their drum of choice simultaneously in the same room. Noisy situations do not even begin to bother me, they drown out my own mind's ceaseless noise - but this was something different. A literal cacophony. For this reason, I went to my list to see what may be on there that is soothing and calm. Fewer than I’d have liked, yet there was a perfect choice. I adore this song. I like the build-up and then the slow bring-down. It can make me calm, it can make me cry, it can make me happy - it just depends on the day. And really - he doesn’t even sing. I’d like him to read me to sleep. |
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