Disclaimer: Picture has nothing to do with the article. My jokes digress and regress whenever they please. You’ll enjoy them.
There’s no way we can have public sex here, my darling.
Why? Because I will not look cool without my umbrella. Can I hold it over
us while we do the nasty?
Bands like this with press like this annoys me. Tiger, Tiger!, with their new album The Kind of Goodnight has been really under the radar, and some people ( well, just me since I am the only mofo reading my work) will say, “But oh great writer of SID, this has to be the type of band you would put on your site, right? They are touted to be a mix of R&B & Punk and have two lovely chicks in the band. Surely two hipster-looking chicks add some brownie points to the mix?”
No. Good gracious no. No. No. No. No. This is a band that when I listen to it, I DO like their sound. I DO like the feeling and the counter-pop style they produce. I DO like the seductresses in the forefront. But the music is OK. OK. Like OK Soda. Mixed with orange soda, a little different, maybe even some questions and riddles on the side, but I am not bedazzled by the sound. I only heard their single, but if this their best sound, or even their median sound, I don’t feel there is much that will make me thrilled to hear them again.
Movin to the country gonna eat a lot of peaches!
When I made his blog ( like an hour ago ), my purpose was to promote really good music. I know this is the eye of the beholder conundrum, but I think that if anything, I am going to showcase the really good music. A lot of music contains a serious amount of mediocrity or attribution to other bands that you don’t see too many bands rise above that sea level of talent and scream ” Look at how amazing this sound is!”
When I hear a song, or want it to be put on here, I place it on here because it resonates higher beyond something I can comprehend.
I want to showcase that sound that makes a woman take off her top with no thought of consequence, her tits bare & reverberating from the sheer power of her hands ripping off her shirt for all to see. I want to give to you the music that the hard-faced alpha male will break down in front of peers and sob about the days he was molested by a fat man on the beach. I want a reaction after the end of the song that culminates into people having sex without concern for their surroundings or law enforcement, a reaction that can incite a mob mass drooling for blood and mayhem as they head to burn down the capital where the lovely imperialism complex resides.
Seldom do I find these types of bands, up to the point that not all the bands on this blog WILL BE that GOOD. Barely anyone is, and it is always disputed when someone nominates a song so highly. But I will promote music that is closer to that spectrum than to the spectrum of ” That’s great, honey. I think it sounds nice.” Nice is OK. OK is not bad. Get over those two humps, and you will probably have a spot on this blog.
I will showcase more bands in our weekly carnival, to be democratic of course. But I am doing this for my ego, and my ego appreciates good music. And band reviews like the one for Tiger, Tiger! ( thank god Google knows to look for two tigers in the search or you would’ve been fucked finding them otherwise; search engines were not that good in the old days) make me cringe because their sound doesn’t correlate with the praise.
It is the equivalent when I did my social studies project ( which they give you months to do) the day before class in the 8th grade and I WON third place ( my teacher was pissed; he knew I was a fuck-up). I felt happy not because I was talented, but I was an asshole who got my way because I was good at the craft of bullshit and deadline bullshit work.
In music, bullshit sucks. Even B- work makes me throw up my hands and go “WTF?! Why?”.
I don’t mean to have this rant, but this isn’t a shot against Tiger, Tiger! They are actually a decent band and I do hope to hear more of their work. But from what I heard, it wouldn’t make the cut if I ever had a record label. The Salvo goes out to the writers who do their best to market it by calling this band a “cohesive sonic menace” that would constitute bar music ” if more bars actually cut loose enough to play stuff like this“.
This is why if someone tells me I write really badly or don’t make much sense in my reviews, I can show them these diatribes on Tiger, Tiger!, show them a logo of Pitchfork Media, pour some gasoline on it, shove it down their throats, and while they CHOKE TO DEATH, I will scream, ” I could’ve made it worse by burning the paper before I shoved it down your throat, but I feel bad for you since you will die eating SHIT!”
My point of all this: I am adamant of the music that will be on this blog as good. If you don’t think it is good, then maybe I am losing my edge and you should contact me immediately and shove a pitchfork logo up my ass. That’ll get me working again to bring you the best underground music around. I am such a masochist.
PS: I am a sucker for the female hipster look, but its a faze that won’t last ( like my Mariah Carey faze = 1 year).