Friday, April 30, 2010


Picking sides, choosing labels, categorizing your persona. Easily one of the worst things to do to yourself.

I used to relish the thought of being definitively apart of one group; enjoying the fact that there could be comrades in my daily fight against whatever counter-culture I decided to hate. But somewhere down the line I realized that making an attempt to live up to a category only marginalizes who you are, your opportunities as a person, and makes you look like a divisive douchebag.

Picking a side places one lines between you and those who think in an opposite fashion, with the sides of the line being defined by the choice of label; for example, democrats vs. republicans.

But this is a generalization. One line is not what defines us; philosophically, we're more like a major grid, with intersections and quadrants where ideas, beliefs, and morals constantly intersect. While you may find yourself disagreeing with another over one issue, you can equally find yourself agreeing with that person on another issue.

Which is why I tightly grip my forehead at the thought of picking sides. It's like cheating on a jigsaw puzzle; finding satisfaction in having the big picture completed for you, all the while ignoring the significance of its countless pieces.

Going back to Democrats and Republicans, I find major irony in the way the sub-culture of the Democrats, the liberals, praises its chosen party so feverishly. Liberals are inherently very anal about their freedom; it's their fucking name. And yet, the Democrats are their party of choice. The Democrats. The group that embraces the power of the federal government and often chooses to expand its control over its citizens is the party of choice for the liberals.

Which is why picking a side inherently flaws us; liberals believe in things that the anti-government Republicans traditionally uphold, such as lower taxes and greater power to citizens and the free market. But because the entire US political atmosphere has chosen to draw a line between themselves and their chosen opponent, they ignore this, and would rather just ignorantly throw shit at each other like monkeys with blindfolds.

At a less serious level, hip-hop and rock have much to learn from one another. Though you're certain to find any school cafeteria segregated by sub-culture, the truth is both lack something the other has, and requires each others' understanding to work to its optimal potential. Rock has become very rigid rhythm-wise, and has little to no actual swagger anymore, instead relying on screams, angry yet immature lyrics, and loud power chords to suffice for its lack of actual style.

Hip-hop has become extremely shallow within the past few years however. It lacks passion, fury, and, as Bill O'Reilly-esque as I sound saying this, lyrically comes off degrading more often than not, both for the women it objectifies, and the rappers involved.

Rock however has that passion and emotional fury that hip-hop lacks. This way, the lyrics in hip-hop can have a poignant emotional impact and aren't entirely about which bitch you fucked the night before.

And hip-hop has the swagger and lyrical prowess that rock needs. Because four white guys wearing the flanals they brought from Target 2 years ago while stiffly strumming their guitar, yelling "I DON'T LIKE YOU" on stage is boring as shit. And sure, hip-hop lyrics can be equally as shallow content-wise, but they're certainly much more clever than the "I hate myself" lyrics that every other band spits out. And musically, rock lacks the hypnotic and catchy grooves hip-hop can sometimes be quite masterful at.

But ultimately the two will always choose to repulse one another.

...Okay so I still wanna bottle Drake at a concert.

Nevertheless; unity is a greater force for production than division has ever been. Wish we could be more prone to the former than the latter.

Dear Dalaimama,

Write something goddamnit.


P.S. Don't pick up the phone and text me to "Shut up" and that "I just have writer's block alright!!!".

P.P.S. Your name reminds me of Cooking Mama.

P.P.P.S. Oh my God, I just made a Cooking Mama reference.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The Vigilant Citizen is ridiculous. But perceptive.

If ever you're bored and need a whimsical tale to tickle your conspiratorial clitoris, The Vigilant Citizen and its bevy of dramatic articles is more than enough to wet that whistle.

"Conspiratorial clitoris" sounds like a fucked up Harry Potter character.

Some of it ranges from prejudice to ridiculous. Its writers, namely Vigilant, have a hard time sounding authentic, as they color their articles with alarmist phrases and practice the same subtle psychological techniques that they themselves criticize the media for using. So they end up sounding like hobos on a soapbox the majority of the time.


Also they use puns. Puns. Fucking puns.

But when they aren't making jokes like an obnoxiously awkward white guy and reminding me of a pink-socked homeless man (We've all seen those socks on one, come on), Vigilant Citizen does find trends that are indeed happening in the media and are certainly a little odd.

Lately, they've been on this robotic trip, with about 2 of the last 4 articles focusing on a concept called "Transhumanism"; the most recent article (Which is also the largest block of words ever) solidifies their stance on the ideology.

Here's the quick, non-biased explanation of Transhumanism: it is the idea that we as humans can be made overall better by physically integrating ourselves with technology.

Vigilant Citizen and its articles paint the ideology as something that is "forced" onto us by the media, and is inherently evil as its intentions are to force us to think in a "hive mind", despite no one worth a shit having officially claimed anything of the sort.

See, like a hobo on a soapbox.

But what gives legitimacy to the site's latest theory is the fact that 4 major pop artists (The Black Eyed Peas, Rhianna, Beyonce, and soon Christina Aguilera) have been implementing robots/robotic imagery in their shit music lately. The Black Eyed Peas have dedicated an entire video in celebration of robots, Rhianna has been performing live with robots (Which also look very similar to BEP's set of robots), Beyonce's had a couple videos with automnomous figures, and Christina's upcoming album art has half of her face looking like a robot.

And now the word "robot" sounds really, really weird.

While I like to disassociate myself from the LSD-esque lunacy of the VC fanbase, I have to say that it is pretty weird when 4 of the biggest artists right now are sharing the same or very similar styles in their marketing/performances.

It isn't to suggest that the government is actually trying to turn us into robots.

And trying to squeeze us into little black shorts.

But with it happening at the same time and with several different artists crushes the assumption of mere coincidence; like a wise man once said, "Sets of coincidences are the premonitions of calculation".

Wise man pictured here.

So despite VC's occasional biases, ridiculous suggestions, and hobo tendencies, they've stumbled onto something pretty interesting here with transhumanism and cyborgs. If we see it more often, the hobos may actually have a point.

Friday, April 23, 2010


Well in this case I do actually like the blogs and am not being a sarcastic asshole. These 3 writers provide thoughtful insight on everyday situations all the while maintaining an excellent dose of personality and wit.

Also, they're all from Britain.

I love this rainy piece of shit.

For starters, India Volkers is the skilled writer of but it turned out I hadn't. Besides having a fantastic username and a blogspot title that sounds like a great Arctic Monkeys song, the girl knows how to twist her cute day-to-day stories into whimsical adventures and musings with well-crafted descriptors and a biting command of words. In this post, she takes what would normally be the world's blandest "I hate my life" post and turns it into a lesson on how to kick verbal ass:

"... Hormonally I ain't been feeling too fahking rosy this week, which naturally would present this weekend as the perfect opportunity to organise a nice coffee with an old friend, in which they inform you through a series of awkward unfinished sentences that you are essentially friend-dumped owing to the complexities of boy/girl friendships, the inextricability of past from present and a girlfriend who is 'NOT A PROBLEM'...The rest of the week has largely been passable in the South East, perhaps a five point five rising to a seven in places, but approached with a vaguely droll smile and shadowed by generally vast and looming exam-shaped shadows.

I have probably morphed into some sort of soggy walking rain cloud, but will be attempting to find some sort of silver lining...possibly at the bottom of a bottle of gin? Sigh." -- Cheer Me Up

Queue the anime three-way shock.

Thank you.

It takes a deep mind to pull something like she did off. Anyone else would've made this a forgettable post.

I'm hella jealous.

Stop trying to make hella happen.

Okay, fine.

Completely ignoring my alpha male complex, our next writer is a guy by the username Joshua Kirk.

By the way why do Joshua Krik and India Volkers sound like names of people that helped map the Americas? "Still on this boring ass river. Found a hot Indian chick. Says she wants to help."

Anyway, his blog is the more serious of the 3; Weeks, pictures, days, words contains Joshua's solid critiques of the media that surrounds him, all the while providing a nice insight on the UK for those on the outside, like myself (USA! USA! USA!).

However, what caught my eye in particular was his poignant critique of Google's "Government Requests" section. What would normally come off as a "Oh look at good ol' Google!" application that would make us feel proud about government transparency is spun in a different, and possibly more accurate, agenda by Joshua's thoughtful post:

"Whilst I, as a stereotypical Guardian-reading zealous liberal, appreciate what Google are trying to do by showing this type of information (showing they can't be controlled, standing up for anti-censorship, etc), I have some problems with the way the thing has been put together and presented. Loads of the supporting writing posted by Google insists on telling you, unless you didn't get the idea, that they're 'new at this'...Why do they need to tell us?

Secondly, if you look at China, the label is a bright red with a big ol' question mark next to it where the number should be. This is what made me think that maybe, just possibly, Google are using this as a form of self-advertising...why put a question mark? Put 'N/A'. A question mark is just inflammatory, childish, and petty. It's just Google shouting at their audiences that 'OOH LOOK BIG BAD CHINA'. You're not a government, Google. I know you want to be, but you're not...

And yes, I'm aware of the irony of dissing Google on a Google blog." -- Excerpt from Token Gestures.

Knowing the Internet audience/demographic well, I'm damn sure the majority are applauding Google's efforts in government transparency. That's what makes Joshua's rant so admirable; the ability to break away from the mass conclusion and think a little harder.

...I used Google Images to find this.

Last but certainly not least is the first blogspot site I found and followed. Though her posts on masks for cats are short, they're certainly sweet, as kate does a fantastic job at being equally nihilistic as she is delightful. Let's start with the dark poetic stuff first:

"the brain can't feel pain. how beautiful and steely in irony is it that the brain, the lumpy whorled meat in your skull, controls the electric impulses to nerve ending that cause pain, yet it can't feel pain itself? how hypocritical, to dole out and then refuse to take. however, to not feel pain is to not know pleasure. loneliness is the game of the brain; sending out the messages to feel. your first kiss, the way it feels to be left, being stabbed. the brain controls everything, but you can't shoot the messenger, because the messenger is in a cage of bone, controlling the feelings but never feeling them itself.
so; pity or resentment? " -- Wait a minute

I heard this is what killed Edgar Allan Poe.

Lord help my poor blogspot!

Seriously though, where would you even think about this? In a cab? Because most of the time I'm busy trying to tell my Zimbabwean driver where the fuck I live in the slowest English possible.


Despite venturing into deep thought, the girl occasionally uses her bright mind to tackle life's little moments, with a sense of humor that is unforgiving yet playful at the same time. Here, she dissects one of those goddamn clich├ęs that everyone spews to a secondary friend:

"'how are you?' - 'i want to talk about myself, and what with the tennis-like back and forth quality of most conversation, by asking you to talk about yourself i will then logically have to reciprocate with talking about myself'"-- Excerpt from kfjhdsm

It's something me and DalaiMama kind of aspire to; the ability to be as sharp as she is while maintaining that biting humor and approachable wit.

Also you gotta love someone who mashes the middle row of their keyboard for their blog titles.


All three of these posters are not only great writers, but unforgettable people in their own right. Not only do they deserve to be heard, but they deserve to be remembered. Read these blogs. It's the best time you've ever wasted.

Thursday, April 22, 2010


"I know way too many people here right now
That I didn’t know last year, who the fuck are y’all?
I swear it feels like the last few nights
We been everywhere and back
But I just can’t remember it all

What am I doin’? What am I doin’?
Oh, yeah, that’s right, I’m doin’ me
I’m doin me
I’m livin’ life right now, mayne

And this what I’ma do ’til it’s over
‘Til it’s over
But it’s far from over….."

This fantastic atrocity, the chorus of Drake's "Over", is the primary example of the shallowness of lyrics in pop music. Who cares about the message? Who cares about the messenger? It doesn't even have to make consistent sense; just string along five lines of actions that the entire world can relate to, and voila, you have a hit single. Where the hell do we start?

Um, well, he was Jimmy on Degrassi for starters.

The lyrics begin with a disoriented Jimmy in a room filled with people he "didn't know last year". He is not very happy about this.

I like to think it's because Jimmy has Alzheimer's.

That's fine and all. A song about disingenuous people all of a sudden joining in on your fame and whatnot--NO WAIT! He's been everywhere and back the last few nights! And he just can't remember at all!

Alzheimer's -- The silent killer. He had so much potential.

And finally, "What am I doing, What am I doing", which is what I ask myself when I read his lyrics.

What am I doing. What am I doing.

Jimmy continues his Alzheimer's-fueled ramblings until he took his proper dose of medication, at which point he remembers, and swerves into the third topic of this chorus; how he's gonna live life, mayne.

Jimmy's legs are about as talented as his rapping.

Now I don't know who Mayne is, but apparently this person also needs to be informed about how long Jimmy will continue living life. Which is "until it's over". Oh shit no way until it's over?

Thank you for your redundant ass advice, Jimmy.

So let's breakdown, in chronological order, Jimmy's Alzheimer-fueled chorus:

- He knows a lot of people he didn't know before, and apparently they're in his room.
- He doesn't like it.
- He's been to a lot of places.
- Does not remember them.
- Questions himself.
- He's "doing" him.
- And will keep doing that. Until it's over.

Well, I guess as long as he doesn't throw around the n-word--

"‘Bout to go Thriller Mike Jackson on these niggas"

Oh Jimmy.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Something oddly awesome happened.

As I was driving from my brother's house not too long ago I saw a skater going down the same curved hill I was on. I sighed impatiently as he didn't get out of my way; he kept doing these sort of bell curves where he would swing hard from the far left to the far right rhythmically.

But then it started impressing me.

All the while I was blasting the last minute and a half or so of AM's The View from the Afternoon as he was doing this. It was almost in sync; perfect symmetry with a great song and a great skater. I promptly turned down the window and blasted the song to give him the perfect background music.

At the end of the hill he had tripped off his board, but I had to give him his props as I drove by; giving him applause and a loud "whoo", with his response being a great fist pump in the air and a "YEAAH!!" that sounded like it was made out of pure adrenaline/enthusiasm.

A little moment in my life that I won't forget any time soon.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Marco. Atheist!

I mentioned in the previous blog that I do mask things about me; particularly my Atheism in public and workspaces. I don't think, for the most part, that anyone would freak out dearly from finding out. But there's a certain stigma to the word, one that I don't think fits very well with my happy-go-lucky face and attitude.

i can haz no faith???

See? Shit don't work.

Okay a little.

Still, I try to hide it from my boss at work. I don't think she cares very much. She likes to see herself in a hippy-esque "Down with government" way. Though she's really just an obnoxious ass white lady with an opinion.

But I'm worried she'd secretly or unwittingly react to me being atheist in the scheduling or something. Not that I've done a fine job of hiding it; I've openly chosen to work both major Christian holidays during prime hours (Christmas and Easter, or as the clever kids call it, "Happy Zombie Jesus Day"). I even stupidly asked her when Easter was.

And so Judas said, "Shoot for the head".

I wasn't joking when I thought customers would react adversely though. That I don't think I'm so wrong about. Often there are priests that come in from a church near the store, and plenty of preachy God-wovvers come in, ending on such niceties like "Jesus loves you my child", to which I can only look at them like I'm trying to telepathically tell them "NO, YOU DON'T KNOW! YOU. DON'T. KNOW!!!!!" But then I only end up looking like Matilda in the movie when she failed to tip the glass over.

Deny the Holy Spirit, come on, come on, deny the Holy Spirit, come on...

I just worked in a Matilda movie reference. I want money for this.

Anyway, a part of me wants to openly be an atheist and proclaim it to the world, frothing at the opportunity to dismantle someone's God-fearing argument. Why else would I buy a shirt with a big fucking A on it? Thing is though, it's not in my personality to discomfort people I don't know. I have a very strong "I hope everyone's happy with me!!!" complex that needs to be satiated every once in a while.

But that isn't the point, is it? Why should I even feel nervous about being atheist to start with? I dunno. I got a lot of growing up to do.

I'm God; you're not; I'm almighty, you're a blogger; I'm the Architect, you're a sales associate, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Alright that's the last one I swear.

Monday, April 12, 2010

The Things You Don't Know

Working as a lone cashier at a pharmacy in a simple yet kind little neighborhood makes me think rather often: they have no idea who I am and what my ideologies are, nor would they ever guess at it.

I make a pretty big effort to be as nice and gentle as possible. Because I'm usually the only cashier alongside one other supervisor/manager, that means the majority of the customers have to go through me during their shopping. Which then means that I have an influence on every person's experience there. Which, finally, means that I should be, and want to be, as nice as possible.

Please bare with me here.

But in my very simplified niceness as a cashier, I realize that it may give off the impression that I'm equally as simple-minded. Not necessarily stupid, but that I probably don't approach very deep, or dangerous, levels of thought. It's almost like a mask.

Particularly though, I wonder how'd they react if they knew I was atheist. I think customers would be pretty shocked.

In a symbolic gesture I sometimes wear my Arrogant Atheist shirt (I know, very douchey of me, but I do like the shirt) under my pharmacy's uniform. Those are the days I quietly smile to myself the most.

God is dead TEE-HEE

Looking out the box though, this makes me realize that the things you don't know (that's the title!!!), the things you could never guess at, are always the most important details. The ones that shape who a person is. Which is why working off assumptions always leads to misconceptions.

...Or to you looking like this.

It's difficult not to want to assume. Trust me, I know; if every time I made an assumption some kind of food automatically popped out of my ass, I could feed the entire world.

But it's probably for the best to drop such a habit. Because you really can never know a person until they tell you themselves.

Still it'd be funny if for no reason I just yelled at a customer "I'M AN ATHEIST!!!" with a huge smile.

I think a lot.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Noisettes

Two white kids and one black girl, all hailing from London. And if there's a naturally-haired black girl involved, you already know it's at least decent.

This band's sound caught my ear while working at CVS/pharmacy. Two of their songs are in the rotation, and both are reminiscent of '60s pop (Hell, I initially thought they were some obscure classic pop songs). However, something about this girl's voice and the instrumentals struck me as though there was more to them than 3 girls singing doo-wop.

Starting with the song that first caught my attention; 24 Hours has this great intro/hook that bleeds into your ears and echoes infectiously.

Okay, I'll chill out with the graphic descriptions.

After deciding to look into a live performance of the song, I found out they're extremely energetic in-person. Shingai Shoniwa is a great vocalist/bassist, and an even better performer, and does a great job embodying the band's attitude and approach to music. She'll prance around on stage barefoot while pulling falsettos from her throat like nobody's business. Like Karen O, except with less shit vocals and awful outfits. Yeah, I went there.

That, and her name probably confused all those white substitute teachers in grade school.

Shi...Shang...Shanghai? Shanghai Shonoone?

Anyway, there were 3 other songs that grabbed me as well:

1. Don't Upset the Rhythm: It's not all too original, and any UK readers would recognize this as that song that was popular like mid-last year (It reached no. 2 overall on the UK singles chart). It's like an odd cross between Rhianna and the better parts of Franz Ferdinand, but it's worth hearing.

2. Wild Young Hearts: The song is like a playful child who has an eerily mature approach to everything. The pianos during the chorus and throughout help to give this song a great brooding edge to its lovingly childish style. Also, doesn't it sound like a Christmas song? It's probably my personal favorite.

3. Sister Rosetta: A song I didn't expect the group to be capable of. It's fast, rambunctious (Let's agree to never use that word again by the way), and is an expectation breaker; a mark of a good band. It's the modern representation of classic rock 'n' roll. A song that if anyone hated, they're probably the Antichrist.

Also, on a more profound note, this one Youtube comment (I know; "Wtf youtube comment", but bare with me here) made a true point I didn't recognize:

"Where's the excessive dose of booty and thongs? The shiny jewelry and the leather outfits? The boring dance team moves? This one doesn't have these things, it's like this one is...authentic and artistic. Who goes for this kind of thing? :)"

If there's one reason to appreciate this band, it's that Shangai Shonoone isn't wearing awfully tight spandex with a five dollar weave doing a tired ass choreography with 3 other clones. It's pretty refreshing that a black female artist keeps her nappy hair and doesn't exploit her body as a reason to pay attention to her.

So why are you still reading this? Listen to them goddamnit.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

My Top 10 Favorite Songs: And so there were 3.

Finally, the conclusion to the long-procrastinated awaited top 10 list of mine. These 3 songs embody everything I've ever appreciated in music; strong yet simple instrumentals, smooth and electric drumming, great lyrics, and a story to tell. Also they make me want to punch someone.

Which is something we can all appreciate in our songs.

3. When the Sun Goes Down - Arctic Monkeys

This song is the quintessential Monkeys song, and the epitome of why I love the album "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not". Every song on that album crafts a little story out of its particular message, set with amusing lyrics and great images. This one does the best at everything; it tells the story of a prostitute, for whom Alex's story takes a particular liking. He thinks she's not all quite so bad, and yet, she hangs out with, you guessed it, "a scummy man". All the twists and turns of a novella done in 3:12, and summarized in its incendiary chorus and a delightfully mellow intro/outro:

"And what a scummy man
Just give him half a chance
I'll bet he'll rob you if he can
Can he see it in his eyes yeah
That he's got a nasty plan
I hope you're not involved at all..."

If you want to hear a song that's catchy, engaging, and keeps your mind's imagination flashing like it were reading a book, there is no song better.

2. Fire Department - Be Your Own Pet

The energy these four conjured out of their little teenage assholes was insane. Songs like "Bog", "Becky", "Black Hole" and then some left you with your jaw agape as you realized they were 16-18 when they made this stuff. Sure, it's not hard to write about being pissed at a boy, but it sure is difficult to make the music and the vocals match your intense frustrations.

Now while this song isn't THE reference song to point to for that BYOP sound, for me, it builds and wields their intense energy and Jemina's powerful vocals better than any other BYOP song. When she and the guys wind up during the pre-chorus for an explosion of pissed, like no other song I've heard before, it actually makes you feel the anticipation revving, and properly fires it with no anti-climax. It's lyrics, especially when Jemina utters "Mannequin, mannequin, a mannequin" delightfully rape your ears. Yes. Delightfully:

"This time I'm held up by a safety pin
Safety pin oh a safety pin
Stuck and sewn up like a mannequin
A mannequin, mannequin, mannequin
You can call the god damn fire department
That's the last time I'll ever let you in
You can call the god damn fire department
That's the last time I'll ever let you in"

Her small but audible Tennesee-accent perfectly caresses the words "You can call the god damn fire department". Well, not caresses; more like cradles the shit out of it. All the while the chords and the drums in the background work in perfect synergy. This song is like the perfect roller coaster; carrying its intense energy perfectly to both build you up without disappointment, and drop you with excitement. I love me this song. And I love me some BYOP.

1. From the Ritz to the Rubble - Arctic Monkeys (The video is a great fit although not official)

First off, the intro has the best set of lyrics/vocals Alex Turner has ever written:

"Last night these two bouncers
And one of em's alright
The other one's the scary one
His way or no way, totalitarian

He's got no time for you
Looking or breathing
How he don't want you to

So step out the queue
He makes examples of you
And there's naught you can say
Behind they go through to the bit where you pay
And you realize then that it's finally the time
To walk back past ten thousand eyes in the line

And you can swap jumpers and make another move
Instilled in your brain you've got something to prove
To all the smirking faces and the boys in black
Why can't they be pleasant?
Why can't they have a laugh?

He's got his hand in your chest
He wants to give you a duff
Well secretly I think they want it all to kick off
They want, arms flying everywhere and
Bottles as well it's just
Something to talk about
A story to tell, yeah"

Personable, understandable, and catchy as shit; these lyrics are precisely what I love the most in music. It's not about weaving deep metaphors, it's not about being as fucking vague as possible, it's about grabbing the hearts of your audience and summarizing their experiences through song.

And goddamn does this one do it right; Alex Turner's gift is his ability to write and sing lyrics that are unique, and yet totally easy to relate to.

It has everything: Douchebags (Last night these 2 bouncers; one of 'ems alright the other one's scarier, his way or no way totalitarian) those hostile situations that you'd rather it have been peaceful (Why can't they plesant; why can't they have a laugh?), and the fact that people just love fucking drama (They want, arms flying everywhere...). With the perfect amount of energy for every mood of every line.

Not to mention the chorus and outro, both expressing sentiments that I think we've all felt after a night of heavy..."influencing", particularly the lyrics leading into the breakdown:

"Last night, what we talked about
It made so much sense
But now the haze has ascended
And it don't make no sense anymore"

And it's sung as though Alex were sitting there, recanting the story himself; the proper, casual attitude just for this little story. It's fucking fantastic.

Secondly, the bassline is an instant classic the moment you hear it. It melds perfectly with Alex's story, and plays out the song wonderfully smooth; no other bassline could have been written for this song. This bassline is the absolute perfect groove for it.

Lastly, the style. I mentioned it earlier, but I can't say enough about how much I love it's style. None of it is presumptuous, and none of it is demanding; it doesn't ask you to sit there and figure it out, it asks you to hear it and relate, almost like a conversation with a friend. And it's ending has the perfect feel to it; it actually feels like an unforgettable night coming to an end, with their chanting acting as the last friendly hoorah before the bass smoothly carries it home.

I love this song. And if we could all pick a song to play when we enter the room, I'd pick this song in a goddamn heartbeat. It's easily my favorite song of all-time.