Saturday, May 27, 2017

Harry Styles, and How His Album Reminded Me That It's OK to Be Alone

It's been quite a while since I've been able -- willing, rather-- to write a review of something I genuinely love. So I figured now's the time, while I'm in this seemingly constant state of flux, to gather the thoughts that I've stuffed into the back corner of my brain, and set them free. And first, I will talk about my unabashed love for Harry Styles new solo album.

Before getting into why I believe this is one of the most important albums of the year, let me say this: my life is on the verge of complete shambles, and this is one of the first things I've heard that has not only given me the courage to set forth on a journey alone, but has comforted me in a way I thought only a mother, or warm, weighted blanket could. The last time I've felt this scared and alone was back in the summer of 2010; I was going through a difficult personal time in my life, I was in between colleges, and very unsure what the future held. It was also the first time I saw something that I wanted so badly, worked so hard for it, and was able to get it. This was my internship, and first real glimpse at the music industry from the inside. It was exciting, new, difficult, and 100% a learning experience. But the real reason I reminisce so fondly of this summer 7 years ago, is because of the music that surrounded me. It was when blogs weren't oversaturated, music wasn't horseshit, and I was able to find things that I liked because I had developed a taste, and a style all to my own, and became comfortable going to shows alone. I was forced to be alone. It was uncomfortable and a nerve-wracking, and sure I had embarrassing moments sometimes, but I had to navigate life by myself for three months. There are sounds and smells that take me back to that summer; sounds that I haven't really revisited in quite some time, until Harry Styles dropped his beast of an album, and flipped all of my reservations right on its head.

Obviously I was hesitant to allot time to a member of One Direction. I was being a snob, with no good reason, until I saw him stand on that stage at SNL and slap me right in the face with "Sign of the Times" and his tantalizing sex appeal. A couple weeks later, I had a dream about him, it wasn't romantic but we were friends and I genuinely enjoyed being around him. The next day I opened my Spotify right up and ate that album like a delicious dairy-free chocolate cupcake. I found myself crying, laughing, dancing, and googling the lyrics so I didn't have to waste any time belting along at the top of my lungs. I was craving a chance to see him play his music live. This self titled masterpiece is everything the world of music needs. It needed to be brought back to basics, honing in on purely talented vocals, minimal instrumentation, and making us all remember what music is, was, and could be without trying too hard to stand out. It's important because it serves as a cleaning agent for the over saturation that is music right now, and it's inspiring because Harry Styles has come into something so beautiful and strong entirely on his own. Obviously no matter what he released, he would have a proper following thanks to the millions of fans OD garnered over their time on Earth, but to have something so different, so pure, and so utterly honest come from him is so incredibly satisfying, it brings me to tears. The album seems like it could have been inspired by The Dandy Warhols, Cake, Jet, and Los Angeles indie bands from the early 2010's, most specifically, reminding me of a quartet known as Chief who had great things in their future but was never quite able to reach their full potential. It takes me back to browsing RCRD LBL until the wee hours of the morning, finding bands like Smoosh, Absofacto, Ra Ra Riot, and fawning over the power Karen Elson held over me. It made me revisit Ghost of A Saber Tooth Tiger and Stars, the Deadweather, and every band Jack White had his hand in that year. This music formed me, and gave me so much inspiration to write in this exact blog so many years ago.

I could go in depth of every single song, but I'm going to take the time to focus on "From the Dining Table". Not only is this an incredibly stunning work of acoustic art fused together with a pleading pine of classical strings that will send chills throughout your body, but it's a reminder of how hard it is to feel like your heart is bruised. It makes my stomach hurt, in the best way possible, because life is uncomfortable and things are scary and there are times when you have to figure out this crazy thing called life alone, but again, that's what life is, isn't it? This song took my heart, shook it a bit, and let it drop into my intestines. It scares me because it reminds me of how nervous I get when I feel alone. But it also comforts me, and reminds me that it's OK to be alone. I never thought I would have to feel like this again; freelancing to save my life, confused about my personal life, and just so damn unsure of what the future holds. I'm scared. I'm really, really scared right now. I don't see the light at the end of a tunnel right now, but if I made it through the summer of 2010 single, scared, and in between universities, then I can do it again.

PS-listen to Ever Since New York, and then visit the band Chief, and tell me what you think.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Nicaragua, and the Detrimental Nature of Visiting Paradise for Only a Week.

"The problem was that that kind of thing couldn't go on forever, such perfect little circles are impossible to maintain." - Haruki Marukami, Norwegian Wood

I can't stress the importance of taking time to be alone enough. I'm aware there are around 67,850 articles circulating the world wide web listing off stupid platitudinous ways to finding alone time and balance in New York City, but this is different. I'm not talking about going to a spin class alone, getting dressed up and eating at bougie brunch spot by your lonesome, or learning how to cook. If those things interest you, by all means, have at it, but we most likely won't be friends. I'm talking about alone alone time. Like when your friends are all doing something on a Thursday night, stay in. Throw on cozy clothes, download that album you've been meaning to listen to, go through pictures that make you sad, read 5 chapters of your book, or just stare at the ceiling. Alone. Turn off the music for a second and just be. Think thoughts and let them wander.
I've had a bit of a tough time the past two weeks. I went on a trip and came back completely changed. Not one of these trips where I came back and wanted to move to Italy to open a flower shop, I've already had those see HERE, or even try to get on a rescue team off the coast of Greece to help refugees, (although I'm always v down to save the world). I came back and this really deep seeded sadness sat in me, and it hasn't gone away. I'm fully aware of how normal it is getting back from a trip and feeling depressed, and having it take a couple of days to adjust and then all is well, but this was kind of different. I went down to Nicaragua to visit two of my best friends from college. It was a on-a-whim type of trip, we found a really cheap roundtrip ticket and since they lived there, I knew I wouldn't have to pay for housing. So when I went down, I was expecting a laid back good time, but I didn't anticipate the complete and overwhelming sense joviality and destress I felt while I was down there. (I'll get to the importance of being alone in a sec, stay with me). So a couple reasons this trip was so pleasant.
First, I mean, I was in Nicaragua.
Secondly, it was ripe with fruit, monkeys, beaches for days, friendly people who come out of the womb with the full knowledge and flexible range of any and all types of Latin dances, amazing coffee, and a million things to do that were all so different than what I do in day to day.
Thirdly, I was with two of my best friends who have known me for over seven years. I hadn't seen one of them in YEARS, and we picked up right where we left off, and then some. I was with two people I didn't have to impress, who didn't care about what my next steps at work were, who didn't care where I lived, and who I could talk openly and comfortably with about religion // philosophy // gynecology, what have you.
Fourth, pretty similar to the former point, but tack on meeting new people and family members every single day. All of whom were excited to meet me, show me new things, ask me new questions, be genuinely interested in what I had to say, imbibing, laughing, and and starting up too-long conversations about literature, music, or even the damn apostles in the middle of a bar.
Fifth (almost most important) I have endometriosis, and when it kicks in it's the end of the world. Every month. I got surgery a year and a half ago, but as of last month the bitch decided to come back in chronic form, so I'm SOL. Regardless of that pity party, I planned the trip so I didn't have to endure the pain from my period, but LOL, still got my period. I was on a beach in a volcano and I panicked, I had brought NOTHING with me. No pain killers, no oxy, no tampons. Luckily some french babes had some weird organic items for me to use, but I started to get PTSD about my symptoms. When I get sick, I mean I get sick. I can't walk, I vomit profusely, I'll pass out super quickly and just cry and cry from pain. So, I panicked and my friends immediately were just like "Nica medicine! Rum and tequila shots!" So I did. I took two shots, went swimming in the lagoon, and was fine. I was fine. Got scared took another (three) shots and went swimming again. Four, five hours later, I was fine. I felt a minuscule little cute baby cramp, so we went to the pharmacy, and homies had the equivalent to my doctor Rx'd Oxycontin for .67c. SIXTY SEVEN CENTS. One, wtf does that tell you about the health crisis in 'Merica, and also, why was I not being affected by my endo? I wasn't stressed. I was in the sunshine and warm weather, but most importantly, I was so happy. I laughed harder than I had in maybe years down there, and every minute of the trip was spent in good spirits, by everyone involved. I know it sounds like some hippie shit, but I am now a firm believer that positive surroundings, healthy, fresh eating, and colourful landscapes are able to cure any and all ailments.
Lastly, (and most importantly) I was only there for a week. A perfect, 7-day week. Two days each spent in different cities, which allots just enough time to become accustomed to your surroundings and make new friends.
I know the reason I've been so overwhelmed with sadness is not because I think i will be happier if I lived there, but because the amount of time I was down there was SO perfect, it left no room for anything to go wrong. I'm fully cognizant of the fact that if I did, in fact, move down there, I would hit a bad day so hard and wish I never quit my job and left. But here is where the importance of being alone comes in.
When I got back to New York, I gave myself NO time to decompress. My boyfriend was waiting at my apartment to say hi and hear all about it, and I went right back to work the next day, to a plethora of negative energies that suffocated the office and the streets of the city. I kept trying to shake my depression, but I was literally just bringing everyone down around me. Two different times at two different dinners I caught myself completely disengaged and heard my boyfriend say "she's back here physically, but mentally she's definitely still there." Which, in retrospect, I'm sure hurt him, because, like everyone, he wants to be missed and wanted me to be excited to be back with him. But, it's not as superficial as that. I realized I hadn't given myself proper time to decompress and reflect on the week. All the memories of the people I met and was sad to leave I had to keep bottled up in the back of my mind to think about later, because I kept forcing myself out and trying to be in the present, when my heart and head didn't want me to go there yet. I know I'm a person that fixates on everything, and I definitely suffer from the-grass-is-always-greener syndrome, but the week I spent down in Central America was so overwhelming that I really needed space to process it all. I was reading my Murakami book last night and a line from it stuck out to me (which is interesting because I adore Murakami, but his sentences aren't timeless. His semiotics are great, but his overt use of passe pop-culture references are not.) Anyway it says "Those were my favorite times. [But] the problem was that that kind of thing couldn't go on forever, such perfect little circles are impossible to maintain." Which, like obviously, but it hit at the right time. I'm mature enough to know that when one good time happens, it was just a good time, I'm not going to experience the feelings I had in that one week by picking up and going back to the exact place.
Nothing revisited ever feels the same, which is why memories and moments are special to collect, to revel in, and to process. If I had taken the time to do that when I got home, I would feel better by now. But because I waited for so long to process my emotions about the whole thing, it filtered out in different ways, and everybody noticed how not with it I was.
Anyway, that's what this is. This is a post collecting my thoughts and memories from such an incredibly perfect trip, reveling in them, processing them, storing them, and moving on.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

A Morning at Dark Harbour Shop Picking up Bread

"So we have to tell you about last night.
- Have you ever been to the scar? OH my God it's absolutely spectacular, isn't it Meg?
We went for the Devereaux boys wedding which was just lovely - oh! you have to see her dress!
- You have to see it, it was just perfect
Oh and we have to tell you about how they met. They were open about it so I'm sure we can talk about it. It's so funny-
-It really is so funny
So they were freshman at Stanford at a party and he said to her, 'you know I have a funny family history, I'm actually a test tube baby and my sister is adopted' and SHE turns to him and says 'well I'm adopted and my brother is a test tube baby' - isn't that the sweetest?
-it really is so sweet
Oh and who was that man I was speaking with at the party?
-I don't know who he was honestly I wouldn't know him if he came over and BIT me on the leg..
Anyway I was sitting next to this man and I turn and say to him 'do you mind if I move the seats around so I don't sit next to my husband? We like to meet new people - do you and your wife do that' and he turns to me looks me square in the eye -
-oh now THIS is funny
It really is so funny, and he says to me 'my wife is dead'
My wife is dead!
And so I say 'oh I'm so sorry I hope you find happiness in your life' and he says 'I won't; I'm an utter introvert' and, I'm sure he says this strictly for the challenge, of course I got him talking and talking and it turns out he's read just about every 20th century novel and taught anthropology at Yale which is just so funny
-it really is so funny.
Anyway dear it's so nice to see you, how is your father doing?"

Sunday, May 10, 2015

No Title

There has to be a word for when someone you once knew and loved dies. I don't know if it's nostalgia or emotion or empathy, but it's weird, I think I hate it. I've done so much to put certain times in my life out of my head and I think I hate remembering everything about Ben. But realizing someone who, at one point in your life was one of your best friends, who was one of your boyfriends is no longer on this Earth is probably one of the strangest feelings I've ever felt. Especially when your life is so much different than what it used to be at one point.
I remember how heavy his head was. Even when we would all be in the car and he would put his head on my shoulder I remember how heavy it was.
I remember how calloused his fingers were from playing the guitar.
I remember how pejorative he became the moment he felt uncomfortable or threatened.
I remember how much we competed with each other with our knowledge about music and how when I acted like I knew what I was talking about he just nodded and said I was right, even though I wasn't.
I remember how much he loved Kerouac and how when I read On The Road I thought it was a lost gospel and swore that I would live my life as a beat from here on out.
I remember how that only lasted about a week.
I remember how I skipped going to Church because Ben and I would talk about how being spiritual is enough and I thought that being around my friends was kind of like going to church because we were living and learning in the presence of others.
I remember how guilty I felt for skipping church and never doing it again.
I remember how good he was at finding music.
I remember how much he loved attention.
I remember how much he danced.
How much he sang.
I remember how much we all danced when we were together. Atlanta was a weird time in my life but it was also one of the most exciting, most impressionable and learning years of my life. We all fell head first into this unbreakable friendship that lasted a year or so. I've never laughed so hard in my entire life. I've never danced so hard so late at night in my life. I've never taken so many pictures and been in so many pictures in my entire life. We were so young. We were so, so young. We were reckless. We were everything you read about in books about kids going through phases and living life fast and loud and not caring about anything that we were taught to believe.

I've been able to block this time out of my head for a while now. Times like this only last so long until something becomes spoiled and infects everything it touches. The decline of the Atlanta group was probably one of the saddest things that's ever happened to me, now that I think back on it. We all loved everyone so much and then everything just kind of fell apart and I moved back to New York and people moved elsewhere and went different places in life and that's what life is, that's what happens and it's ok.

I remember how you could stick Ben in a room with 10 strangers and within three minutes he would know everything about them and already have plans to meet up with them later.
I remember how he never slept because he never wanted to miss anything.
Ben never wanted to miss anything. He wanted to love everyone. He wanted to be loved by everyone, and he was. He could get the angriest person in the entire world to laugh within seconds. I feel sad that I was young when I knew him and that everything ended unpleasantly. I feel sad that things turned out the way they did. But as I've said before; such is life. People grow up, they move and they move on. I wish I was more patient with him, and that I didn't throw the flower out the window of the cab in Chicago that he gave me when I saw him after five years. I wish I read more into his cryptic email that he sent me a couple of months ago. But I had tried to help for so long and nothing really seemed to do anything, or was it that he made it seem like it had done everything and everything was alright? I don't know. I don't really know what I'm feeling except just sad. Never in my life have I ever met someone so full of potential. So talented at writing. So talented at singing. So talented at just being a person.

I'm in pain for his best friends. I'm in pain for his family. I'm in pain for everyone who knew and was honestly touched by Ben's presence. If you met him, you remembered him.

I hope he's happy now. I hope he finally found was he was searching for the past seven years of his life. I hope he's somewhere playing guitar with Jeff Buckley and crooning about everything he ever went through. I hope he meets Jack Kerouac and realizes he's smarter than Jack ever hoped to be. I hope he knows that he's always in our minds and our hearts and our prayers.

Rest easy, Benjamin. You're so truly loved by so, so many.

I know you would have loved Lorrie Moore, so here's one of my favorite lines from her:
please god, I mean God, don't let me go like this but let me stay right in this garden next to the plastic flamingos and let me croon the blues till I am crazy with them."

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

I Miss Babysitting

I got on the subway in a hurry because I took too long picking which shoes to wear. I sat down in the middle car, frazzled and kind of angry because I made a rash decision to not go for a run that morning, whatever I'll run later. When we got to Astor Place, a boy, no older than seventh grade sat down across from me, backpack in tow with kind of nerdy glasses on his face. "Awh, I wonder how long he's been allowed to take the subway by himself" I thought to myself. His brand new snow boots were untied and the laces were dragging, he was slouched on the subway seat, head leaning back against the window. His hands stayed in his pockets and his backpack was still on his back, just, leaning all the way to the right side. He stared at the blonde boy who just got on the train and sat beside him. This boy was cuter, same age, with that wing-y wavy hair look, skinny pants and proper sneakers that matched his backpack. Boy2 took out what looked like a sheet of math homework and began to do last nights assignment. Boy1, with his hands still in his pockets and his legs sprawled out in front of him, unwilling to pull them in for anyone who passed him, looked down at the boys homework, and I could tell he was doing the problems in his head. He would look at the math problem and then shoot a look at Boy2s face, look back at the problem, and look back at the boys face as if to say "helloooo the answer is 4 why can't you get it." He threw his head back in a disgusted, bored, completely bratty type of way and continued to keep his legs out. All I kept thinking about was how much of a little shit this kid probably was, how he probably whined every time he didn't get his way, how he probably hated everything his mom (or nanny) made for dinner every night, how all he wanted to do was be alone in his room, oblivious to how much his mom (or nanny) wanted to spend time with him. He probably made comments like "I hate that, it's so stupid" when referring to mashed potatoes, "I don't care" when he would get in trouble and his Play Station got taken away, and "ok.." when reprimanded about his behavior and asked if he understood why what he did was wrong. He was probably unaware how nice it was he didn't have to pay for a metro pass, or what the value of a dollar was. He doesn't know what a pain in the ass paying rent was, or trying to figure out whether or not you could be less frugal that morning and splurge on a coffee and croissant for breakfast. I hope his nanny slaps his head when he acts up, and his parents aren't too hard on the teachers when the teachers call to tell them their son got caught helping another boy cheat.

We both got off at 23rd street and it took almost everything in me not to trip him just so I could hear the child whine "Owww!"

Thursday, October 23, 2014

A Response to "Ripping off the Bandaid: Why Feminism Matters in Music" and Also to A Video Circulating

It’s CMJ! Yay! I always get excited this time of year 1; because it’s probably the best opportunity if you have the means to check out a ton of new bands at little divy venues you’ve never been 2; because it’s a great way to network and 3; because there are a ton of interesting panels to sit in on. The other day I went to the talk Ripping off the Bandaid: Why Feminism Matters in Music, and to tell you the truth, I was left completely unsatisfied. Not only did I feel like we were all sitting a “we hate men” sleepover with way too many giggles, but it was almost like everyone on the panel was playing victim. Going on and coyly naming the publications they had worked for over the years who treated them poorly, nothing crazy positive came out of this talk. 
But the worst of all, was when someone finally came up and asked the question “so how do we stand out among others while trying to get a job?” they answered the generic “don’t be afraid to be a bitch” “don’t get upset if someone asks if you’re on your period.” “make your hair pretty” I think was one of the answers. But no one, NOT ONE person said “know your shit.” 
That’s the only answer to any of this. If you are afraid that a male will get a job over you, what to do what to do!? Know what the hell you’re talking about. Know everything. Anything you want to talk about, any type of work your doing, study the shit out of so you know more about it than anyone. Work speaks for itself. Nobody reading an article sees a woman's name and doesn’t continue to read it. Unless you're a serious ass hole. And yes, we can complain and moan about how we’re mistreated (which yeah, sometimes the music business sucks with women) but more than just complaining and bitching about it, do something about it. Be the best. People gravitate towards good work. They gravitate towards honesty. They can read an interview that you’ve written up and think either “wow this was so boring and those questions sucked” or they can think “wow I would have never thought to ask that, they must know this artist so well.” After the panel I walked out with a lot of the people that were sitting in, and I heard a comment that said “well that didn’t help me at all” — so I looked at her and said “If you want to get ahead of the rest, be good at what you do.” Nobody is stopping you from researching the hell out of anything, nobody is holding you back from learning, so don’t give this weak excuse like…I’m not getting ahead in the industry because I’m a woman! It’s probably because your work isn't interesting to read.
Be interesting. Be interested. Be you. But know your shit. Know everything there is to know about x.

While I’m on this topic, there is a video circulating on the world wide web showcasing little girls 11 and under yelling “FUCK YOU FOR CALLING ME A PRINCESS” “I’m NOT some fucking DAMSEL in distress” — and the whole point of it is to say how young girls saying “fuck” is so uncomfortable but rape and 23% less pay is just as uncomfortable. Although I get the general idea of this video — how about you keep some class about you, don’t teach your daughter words like that, save your youth, and explain to them the best way to fight this — is to work hard, be independent, be educated (which means having an appropriate vocabulary, especially at the age of 8) and fight the fight, classily. “Oh women are just supposed to be classy are we!?” No, but let’s remember nobody using this language and teaching your daughter to say “Fuck You” at that age, doesn’t make her anything but vulgar and angry. 

Let’s keep the education circulating, without the crassness, shall we? 

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Stop Being Scared of Depression & Anxiety

Disclaimer: This was a really hard post for me to write, partly because it's so filled with emotion, partly because it makes me extremely vulnerable. So, I'm sorry if it's all over the place. 

Last night I felt compelled to write something about anxiety and depression, one part because of all the statuses I saw people suddenly posting about it, and another part because people are so heavily misinformed (yes, to this day) about how detrimental anxiety can be. But this morning, as I was perusing through the always enlightening Facebook newsfeed, two people posted an article and it sent me entirely over the edge. One person posted about how they wanted to learn everything Catholic about depression and how they couldn’t believe it didn’t have to coincide with living in sin and the other article was “Saints that Suffered From Depression” and one said “I want to know the Catholic stance on depression." K. One. The Catholic stance on depression? You mean the universal stance on a mental illness? Oh my God, a person can be depressed without having to live a horrible sinful life!? Sometimes it’s not only caused by self-loathing? And what, now that Robin Williams died (RIP you lovely, incredibly human) and you liked his movies, you’re going to take the time to actually read up about what causes depression and anxiety, and now you’ve realized that since Saints suffered from it, it’s OK to pay attention to it?

We are in some serious trouble, people. And I’m not going to sit here and blame the ignorance of some religious folk, because my family is Catholic and we are probably the biggest advocates of educating ourselves and others on mental illness. But my God, are people seriously this ignorant? I didn’t want to believe it but, yes, they are. 
I’m not using this post as a “oh Robin Williams was depressed and died from suicide, so let me share MY experience because I totally understand what was going on in his head.” No. Not at all. But maybe, MAYBE from my personal experience I can shed some light on humans who for some illogical reason thought that anxiety and depression only existed in people who led immoral lives so they wouldn’t give their time to them. 

I was depressed at 15 through about 23 along with probably 76% of every human alive. Everyone has some form of anxiety & OCD because guess what, LIFE HAPPENS. I can’t speak for them but I can speak for myself when I say I don’t even know what caused mine. I've been anxious since I was 7. And if you're not familiar, anxiety sucks. You can't help it sometimes. When I was in first grade I used to throw up when my mom would leave the house at night because I was always scared she'd get in an accident. I used to get sick to my stomach when certain songs came on the radio because they...sounded sad and made me anxious. I saw a therapist at 8 and he told my mom I was lactose intolerant. I wasn't, I had anxiety. I used to get scared of getting the stomach flu because I hated when my stomach hurt that I would actually get so nervous I made myself sick. Then growing up, like sure, I had issues with my mom, yeah, I got molested my second semester of college. But now that I’m realizing my time spent in my therapists office, sure, a lot of things were probably factors in my depression, and sure, when I was 21 and tried to overdose on oxy something DID put me over the edge (failed miserably, obviously, I’m still here) but not all depression stems from ONE thing. It’s an illness, and I had it since I was SEVEN. I remember sitting on my bed when I was 21 holding a bottle of pills and the song I was listening to all of a sudden sounded like it was telling me to take the pills. It wasn’t, I was listening to a Flufftronix remix, but in my warped mind that’s what it sounded like to me. And right after I took them I got scared and called my brother. (Blah blah blah fell asleep, woke up in an ambulance, went to the hospital, had to get some psych treatment but I was fine, just in case you were wondering). But when I was in the psych ward of the hospital, I was put in a room without a handle on the inside of the door so we couldn’t leave. It was a giant, metal, empty room. And I was stuck in there with other people. Other CRAZY people. Other crazy people who had been arrested and were on some serious drugs. One woman was tripping on something and kept singing me Beatles songs. It was terrifying. So I knocked on the window and asked the guard (yes, guard) if I could come sit with him because I was scared of sitting inside with the other people who had been taken off the streets. When he let me, and the social worker finally came to check on me to see if I was stable enough, I poured out sorry after sorry telling her I just took the pills because I wanted to sleep for a while. 
Gripping onto her clipboard pointing at me with her pen “but I see the wounds on your wrist haven’t healed” 
“I know but that’s behind me, I just did it as a coping mechanism I won’t do it again!”
“OK but your mom doesn’t think you’re ready”
“But I am I PROMISE”
and she stood there, standing far away from me, panicked, like she was scared of me, and finally decided to release me. 
We have the wrong people working in our psych system. We need people who are compassionate. Who understand. People who don’t treat all patients the same way and cluster them into one horribly cold room.
After that, two of my best friends stopped talking to me. Completely. And were scared, and didn’t want to have to deal with someone like that, or be seen with someone who actually needed a friend more than anything in the world. See, that was MY way of seeking help. I’m not sure if I actually wanted to die, or just sleep for a really long time because I didn’t want to feel sad anymore, but it was an outcry. And some people are just born with really dark thoughts. I think there are definitely certain things we can do to try to overcome it, but to try to pin it on one thing is really awful. YES, of course PTSD exists! but, humans have emotions, it’s what makes us….human. We are happy and sad and angry and everything in between, and sometimes some of us have a really hard time staying positive. So all of these articles I’m reading about what it was that tipped Robin over, or why he was depressed, or, what’s the Catholics view on depression — it’s all bullshit. That’s like asking, so WHY did he get the flu, what was it, and what’s the Catholic take on the flu? What are you talking about. Depression and anxiety is not myth. It’s not some made up disease that only resides in people who aren’t religious. Why are people so scared of it!?

I remember being in college and talking to counselors about my depression and some of them saying “well you need God, and to stop living in a way that’s compromising to your faith.” Which, on one end, is totally true - like we should be living in the healthiest way possible, and live in a way in which we believe actually seeks the ultimate happiness, but, you can’t just brush it off like that. People need help. Some people just need compassion and love and some people genuinely have a chemical imbalance in their brain that requires outward deposits of serotonin. And some people are genuinely just sad. We seek kindness, we seek love, we seek happiness. There is no “catholic view” on depression. There’s a universal view. And we need to start paying more attention to mental illness, RIGHT now. 

Friday, June 27, 2014

Living in Excess Doesn't Make You Happy, It Makes You Sad

I went to Italy and Greece for a couple weeks, and although I knew that it was going to open my eyes to some things, I didn't realize that it would mess with my perspective on just about every aspect in life. Since I've come home I haven't wanted to open soundcloud, write reviews, or even just listen to music. I want to sit outside with my book and a cold cappuccino, turn my phone off, and then pick flowers and make food. Now, I'm fully aware Mercury is in retrograde and that little bastard messes with just about every single detail of life, but I really think something happened in Europe that made me want to change a lot of things. There were a lot of things I noticed when I was abroad that I fell in love with, so I'm going to make a list.

1: The way parents treated their children. When a couple went out at night with another couple to get food, they brought their children. Their children sat in the seats, ate the same food, and held the utensils properly. The kids (especially in Greece) were out until about midnight or later, and then slept the same hours as the adults. They chilled on the beach with their mothers without constantly having to be "entertained" and when they got antsy, the parents gave them toys; not electronics. Having kids in Europe is a joy, not a burden. The more the merrier in those families, and they actually enjoyed the company of their kids. Imagine that, huh?

2: Obviously the food. I ate more food than I ever had in those two weeks, and when I got home I weighed less than I did when I left. You know why? Cause they're healthy, and they cook without butter and shit and sugar and poop. I ate NON gluten free bread, and I didn't bloat, I had more cheese than ever and my body responded more than well to the intake.
The most important thing I took away from it was their coffee. NOBODY walks around with a yoga mat and a venti sized coffee, they sit down and enjoy a croissant with a shot of creamy espresso, and you know what, it does the trick. The more I think about how big our coffee's are, the more embarrassed I become.

3: There were no age limits. On anything. Ages 15-80 were at the bars, all dressed extremely stylishly, and all talking with one another. There were no old women afraid to show their flair of wardrobe, no "oh no I'm too old to wear this or to drink that" - it doesn't matter. Tastes are tastes. It was so nice to be sitting with people of all ages having one conversation.

4: And the most important of all, not one person I met asked me what I did within our first conversation. Not once. And I had learned certain things to say in Italian so I could keep up with conversations, but not once did I have to use "sono journalista di musica." Not once. You know why? Cause nobody cares what you do. It doesn't define you. Here, in New York, every single person is defined by what they do and where they work, there is NO way around it. And yes I lived in the glory of how simple the life was over there, because the coolest people I met were literally a butcher a baker and a candle stick maker, but as I got to talking to this awesome girl I met who spoke perfect English so I didn't feel SO out of the loop - she broadened my mind a LOT. I explained to her how nice it was to not be asked what I do, and I went on and on about how annoying that is to here every time you meet anyone for the first time in NYC, and that your area of work isn't the end all be all of your life, and although she agreed, she made a really good point. She said people in Italy put their dreams on the nightstand, and nobody asks what you do because it's virtually impossible to work your dream career. You can't be a journalist like you can be in NYC, they're all just nice ideas that never come to fruition. In New York City, you CAN be anything you want to be, so when people ask "and what do you do?" it's because you have the resources to become whatever you want. Basically there's no excuse in NYC because you are given the opportunity to make it happen. Obviously the grass is always greener, but I fell in love with the simple life of Italy. When I went to Rome all I wanted to do was come home, save money, and then move back and open up a cafè and floral shop.

I'm spent. I'm so damn sick of this music industry and busting my ass and trying to appease people for nothing. What comes from it? Am I happy? Am I making other people happy? Am I giving myself? No. I'm stressed, I'm broke as shit, I'm up til 3 am trying to meet whoever I can so I can maybe find my journalist break, and I'm so tired of it. I don't care about meeting big producers or DJs or whoever the hell they are. Why am I looking for so much approval from people? What does it do in the long run? We're all human, we're all hustling, and we're all so consumed with this idea of glory. Even how I'm "trying to find my break" - why do I need to be a noticed journalist. As long as I get to write my truths, isn't that all that matters? I want to live a simple life. I also really miss music. I miss listening to it and having time to enjoy a song and love it for just as it is, music. I hate trying to make it a business, it's ruining the purity and bliss of sound for me, and I want that butterfly BACK in my stomach every time I hear a fantastic new track.

The night I got home, I got rid of about 70% of my closet and other random things I own. I am sickened by how many "things" I own, buying new clothes don't make me happy, it makes me poor and stressed out. I don't need a lot. I need love, my books, rent, and the love and company of my family and good friends. I don't know what this means from here on out, but I definitely am just going to try to finish writing my book, and work enough so I can save so eventually I can do whatever it is that makes me happy. I just want to be happy, and I really don't think that's a lot to ask.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

RIP Golden Age of Music Blogs

Yesterday morning I was sitting on my computer, browsing (stalking) media bistro, craigs list, looking for jobs and letting my iTunes roll around. Then the BRAHMS remix of “Emily Sue” came on and I immediately typed into my iTunes search “RCRD LBL” to see what other gems I could find, and a beautiful plethora of music, mostly remixes from 07-10 started to play and I felt like I was picked up and thrown into a pile of soft, warm and cozy memories. I sat there for a while thinking about my college days of staying in on weekends going through all those good old blogs finding new music ( I was a huge loner the first couple years of college) and I got really fucking sad. There are days I am so excited to be out of school, published, knowing what I want in life, and then I think about what it was like in the days I first found the world of the music blog, and my God, do I miss it. 

I thought about the first time I found Hypem, and how utterly blown away I was. I remember sitting on my computer, having the tabs for all my favorite music blogs open, and just devouring everything they had to offer. GvB, Audio Porn Central, Vacay V, bbbscience, RCRDLBL (RIP) all open, feeling so damn comfortable just sitting with my computer and this music pouring from these godlike blogs that some higher power must have sent down for us all to be cradled and nurtured by. I adored the community of music bloggers, always sharing what they posted, stalking the shit out of the writers to see where they came from or what else they did. It was an escape for myself, I had no idea there was a whole world of people who loved music this much. I remember receiving Massive Attacks 'Heligoland' cd IN THE FLESH, listening to "Paradise Circus" over and over again, memorizing each transition APC did when they would post their Sunday Mashups. I wanted to be a part of this community. I had started my own music blog, so these golden aged music blogs were my idols. I would borrow cars to drive to CVS just so I could pick up the newest issue of Rolling Stone or Spin, and keep myself in my corner of my dorm, and eerily comforted by the thought that one day I would write for RS. I would get an internship at one of the mags, and just work my way up. Isn’t that how it works? I knew so much about music, more than anyone I had ever met at least. Or at least write for RCRD LBL. Maybe I could have a guest post on APC, because why wouldn’t I? Ah, I had my entire future planned out, I had dreamed of being a music journalist since I was 15, and I was going to make it happen.

LOFUCKINGL. I miss my naive self, more than you can imagine. After I applied and applied to RS, Spin, Fader, thinking that they were holding my resume in their hands, anxiously deciding between me and someone else, when in reality my email probably wasn’t even opened, I scored an internship at this baller music PR agency in NYC. I worked (hardly) and met with random bands and I remember standing in a room next to Jack White, where I swear, although I never actually saw him with my own eyes because they had the interns locked in our little closet, I could feel his presence, smell his dirty hair….. Anyway, that turned out to be a pretty good entry to the scene in NYC, a ripe young age of 20 - felt like I had gotten my foot in. Two more years of school and then I could graduate and make shit happen, right? Wrong. Oh so wrong that it plagues me to this day. Yeah, I definitely got good work, ….except I’m 25 and I haven’t even walked by the office of Rolling Stone. 

I remember when I moved back to NYC after school, I met a guy at Le Bain who told me he worked for Rolling Stone. After verbally vomiting my love for Rolling Stone since I was little to him, and my dream of having at least a guest post, he said "So I basically live your dream life" and then he asked if he could take me on a date. Of course he could! This was it, this was going to be my first intro to somebody who worked there. We went out to this really cool little jazz cafe on Park Avenue, and I had so many questions about RS I didn’t even know where to begin. We got to talking and, well, that was weird he didn’t know any of the books I had mentioned, I’m sorry where did you say you graduated from? OH you’re still in school, oh wait you actually haven’t chosen a major yet OK and …. OH YOU’RE AN INTERN AT RS. Me: “OK that’s fine that’s great, how was the selection process?? what samples did you send in?” Oh no. Date: “Actually my mom won me the internship at an auction, and I hardly ever show up.” I think I was so shocked I actually muttered something like “Oh, I guess my mom must have missed that one…” I remember thinking OK, so this is how it works. I, unfortunately, was not a member of the Society of Children Whose Mothers Win Them Internships At Prestigious Music Publications, but that was OK. I would just continue to build my portfolio, send it in to all the publications. I thought Editors and people hiring actually read random peoples portfolios... 

I’ve been back for three years and I still do not understand the algorithm that is the music scene.  And the saddest part is to watch the music scene / music blog community grow to such a point where it’s overflowing and there’s just no structure anymore. There are so many damn music blogs now, so many damn remixes, how are any of them special anymore? Nobody makes posts like Simon Iddol used to, nobody makes remixes like Miike Snow used to. I really miss the days of MSTRKRFT, Final Fantasy and old Breakbot. I miss feeling like Fools Gold was a secret treasure. I miss the day I went to my very first Mad Decent Block Party (where it was FREE and at South Street Seaport) and not a ton of people were there and I went out with DJ Sega afterwards to some random party in BK where people, who people now pay to see, were casually hanging out, open to meeting any and everyone, cause they were hustling once too. I miss not having to worry yet, and being comfortable enough with the sole day dream of being an editor of Rolling Stone. I miss the golden age of music blogs. I miss it all. I miss it a lot. 

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Denying Your Passion Is the Greater Sin

I have been so bad at keeping up my own blog, for I have no free time for it anymore, which saddens me, but also is really cool because that means I'm too busy writing for other people. But if it serves as one purpose only, that's fine by me, because my thoughts and random spews have a home.

I've been wanting to write something about this for a while, but instead I've trapped people in conversation hoping they hold the same views as me, or trying to get them to understand what I'm saying, I don't even really know. But lately I've been struggling (?) with the notion of sin, more importantly Hell, and who goes and what not. DISCLAIMER: I'm Catholic, you all know this, you can't change my stubborn view, don't try. On top of coming to a 25 year journey of a conclusion, I'm staying this religion. Plus I'm a Taurus so just....don't even try.
Anyway, I've been thinking about the traditional views on whats right / wrong in the Church, connecting it with what's right / wrong in terms of just being healthy for us in general, trying to figure out why one thing is a greater sin or the other, and I mean...this is totally going in a direction I didn't want to go in, but shit, that's what stream of conscious writing is, right? I don't want to talk about what's wrong and right, I know what I know / have been taught, BUT one thing I think has modernized itself as one of the greatest sins (and not necessarily in a religious sense of sin) is denial of your passion.
And I don't mean passion as in sex or food or being passionate about partying, I mean our intrinsic passion. We were all born with different minds, different souls, different likes, distastes, and passions. Having a talent is one of the greatest treats of life, but being too scared, too self conscious, or too unaware of it really is detrimental to our time here on Earth. I've spent a better part of my years too scared to do anything. And that did nothing but lead to regret. I regret not tapping into my mind in high school and being overly preoccupied with being social or too caught up in the drama going on in my family. I spent too many years self-loathing, being depressed, lying on my bed blasting music and not wanting to talk to anyone, undergoing therapy sessions of fixing depression, and worried what other people thought of me. It wasn't until I was STUCK in the middle of fucking nowhere in Georgia in college that I fell in love with Dante Alighieri, and a bunch of other authors and books I was forced to read. It was then I started my blog because I realized I LOVED writing, and since I was always so passionate about music and that super annoying girl in HS who was always like "HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEW PORTISHEAD" and begged other kids in college to let me play my music at their parties, I figured maybe (actually my mom suggested) I should start a blog about music. And just write about it. Even if no one reads it, write about it. Nobody was listening to me when I would hound them with music, nobody cared, so I wrote to the internet when I was 19. #bloglife. It wasn't until my school shut down and I was transferred to a really hard University in Naples, FL (and busted my ass like I didn't know what possible) that I found out I was actually moderately decent at writing. My professors told me my strong point was honesty, and that I'd make a killing at journalism, because I have to know every detail of every story I hear. So, I had a good ear for tunes, had a knack for writing, loved them both my whole life before I ever even knew I loved it, and made a life. I was lucky enough to grow up in New York so I took full advantage of moving back with the understanding of the city that a lot of people don't have.
I don't get paid well. I still nanny on the side. But I took a passion and I made it fruitful. The other night I had one of the highlights of my career, and there was a moment I looked around and I was just like "how the hell did I get here, how is this even happening right now?" And I realized I was living my dream. SHITTY effing things have happened, are still happening, I'm broker than hell, but for that ONE night, everything that I have been working for was right there, and it's a really cool feeling to know that I did it all by myself.
The point of this post was not to talk about my life, but to try to make a point that we should all take times of silence to figure out what it really is we're passionate about. Whether it be a writer, in finance, a nanny, a mother, a wife, a coffee lover, a failing guitar player, find it. Find that passion and go with it, even if you can't make a living off of it, at least you spent your ONLY time we have on this Earth trying it all out.
I also think about if something really sudden happened and my life ended. What would be said about me? Would people remember me in a good light? Would I be pissed because I never went after what I was too scared to go after? Was I nice while doing it? Did people want to be around me? I don't know if we get to keep doing what we love after we die, so this is it.

This life is the ONLY life we have, we need to make the best of it. If we all used the passion we were born with, imagine what we could do.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Miami & its Music Scene

OK, so I know I haven't posted in a  while and for those who actually enjoy my blog, I apologize, and for the others who don't like it, whatever. I just spent a week in Miami visiting my University best friends, and quite honestly, I think this was one of the best weeks I've ever had. I do understand that if I was just a little more patient with my depression, I could've waiting and gone during WMC and made it year three for me, but nah. So I have a couple things to say about revisiting the good old South Florida coast. Driving down Ocean Drive and Collins Ave with two of my best friends blasting Moon Boots, Alison Valentine and other feel good summer breeze music with the windows open, palm trees lining the streets, the ocean in plain view, absolutely melted my heart. I get chills when I look at the art deco buildings, am able to walk around bare foot, get coffees in just a bathing suit, get so tan and salty, come home, change and go out for the night, sleep and repeat. My two girlfriends are from Central America and never fail to expose me to the best of the best Reggaeton, which makes me even happier because living in NY, you forget about music like that. 
Beach life is one of the greatest thing that happened to me, and being back this week reminded me why it is so healthy to visit places of beauty and warmth every so often. This f'ing city (NYC) is on my last nerve, it's freezing, it's grey, this industry is beating my ass, and quite frankly, I'm getting really depressed here. Just like how we should be eating clean by eating foods of color, I think we should live in places of color as well. Anyway, as I was standing on my head in a yoga pose facing the water on South Beach, I was seriously considering looking for jobs down in Miami, because nothing is better than being in that weather with my friends around music. So anyway, one night we went to one of the South Beach clubs, and as we walked in, they were playing the AMTRAC remix to "Bassline" and I was like "hell yeah, word." But then the DJ transitioned it into an Avicii song. And I mean like, to each their own, but NOBODY but me was like "WTFFF". Do you know why? Because nobody in Miami cares wtf is playing,  as long as they look good and everyone cause see them at an expensive club. And I realized, as tight as WMC is, that's mad lame that that is the only time that good music along with good crowds roll thru Miami. And don't fight with me on this one, I know theres like the occasional Bardot show with a dope DJ, but I swear to you, nobody in the crowd cares who is playing. Nobody. Everyone's on their phones, it's like a $60 cover, and drinks are stupid pricey. Now, I know Miami is getting kinda cool with areas like Wynwood and shit, but still, those are just little bars, kinda like a Willyburd / Bushwick area sans concert spaces and warehouse spots. 
If Miami had someone (me) come down and maybe help create a dope year round music scene, it would be the coolest spot in the world. Like, warm weather, gorgeous atmosphere, tan people, sand, sun, surf, music. And I'm really aiming this towards the electronic scene, not the reggae ton scene or anything. I genuinely am upset that WMC makes Miami thee shit for a WEEK then after its like a bomb just went off and everyones dispersed. It's not fair, Miami should be a tight place for music year round. Everything is too expensive, the people are too concerned with status, and it just sucks. It's like going to Avenue or 1Oak or some other super super shitty spot in NYC with dumb ass models and bottle service no matter where you go. Miami could have the tightest underground low key cheap ass spots, it just needs someone in there to go kick it's ass into shape a bit.
And I'm totally willing to be that person. 

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Thankful New Year's Post that's Pretty Sappy.

I'm going to apologize in advance if this post is super duper lame and sentimental but I can't help myself sometimes, you know? I've never been a huge fan of New Years, it's an overrated holiday where people get obliterated and can't remember their nights, but I'm having a hard time not having feelings towards this past year. 2013 was without a doubt the best year I've ever had. I got writing gig after writing gig, I met the greatest people of life, and made some of the best friends of anyone in all of the land. I'm scared for this new year because I can't imagine a better year, but maybe, just maybe it's possible that things can get even better. I am so thankful for my family, my friends, and all the people who read my ridiculous shit and appreciate it. I am thankful for being opened up even more to a music / writing community here in NYC, and although I've spent most of my life here, this is the first year I've really, genuinely felt at home in this insane city. And that's extremely hard for me because I've lived really cool places and I move around a lot because I'm never content. But I am now. I love what I do, I love my amazing friends, I love this crazy city, and I am so eternally grateful for all the opportunity I've been given this past year. Not to mention 2013 is in a VERY TIGHT run with the best year for music, IMO. God Bless my life, God Bless my family, God Bless my friends, God Bless my heart, and most importantly, God Bless Music.

And here is an amazing song that I forgot to put in my Top 10 of 2k13

Monday, December 23, 2013

Jenny Mayhem - TV Waltz

I'm not typically down for press releases if I don't already know the artist, but in this case, yes yes yes and more yes! Plucky guitar sounds and sweet vocals, very similar to the likes to Agnes Obel, and the remixes are so on point, I couldn't help but put this up to share with everyone.

The original track for “TV Waltz” was recorded with guitarist Tom Juhas at The Orange Lounge, Toronto. The stripped-down, atmospheric folk song is reminiscent of Jenny’s previous “Alice in Wonderland” from her 2011 EP.

“’TV Waltz” started with the idea of watching stories on a screen for so long that they start to creep into real life. Like with a good book, the people on TV start to feel like friends who comfort you, distract you, shape what you want. But it’s also about the power of the people who write those stories”

Jenny enlisted the support of Swiss artist Draaiwinti and Canadian producer O S L O to create two indie electronic remixes for this release. The remixes are a surprising departure from the original folk track. Jenny’s latest release is “TV Waltz” – a folk acoustic single including remixes by Draaiwinti and O S L O. She continues to write, record and collaborate with artists in Toronto and in the online community."

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Yolanda Be Cool - All That She Wants (feat. SYF & Fritz Helder)

First and foremost, anything and everything having to do with Ace of Base is an automatic excellent in my book. Second and also foremost, any cover of an Ace of Base done by Yolanda Be Cool and the boys from Azari & III is a going to be a guaranteed banger. This track is unreal, the weirdness of SYF and the vibes of YBC is enough to get anyone out of a poor mood and remember why music is the single handed coolest thing in the entire world. This song was begging to be remixed and remastered into a dark and rather illicit setting, and this is JUST THAT. Go take a break from work, put this track on your ipod and quickly rob a bank or something.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Blackedout - Champagne

There are some songs that have that special kind of airy synth that makes you want to stay in bed forever dreaming of the most beautiful scenarios and thinking of every happy thought imaginable. This is one of those songs. "Champagne" by Blackedout is a trip down positive vibe lane, a downtempo masterpiece with enlightened synths and spacey vocals. Download available.
 Keep your eyes and ears out, my friends, Blackedout will release an EP in early 2014. Yay!

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Top 10 of 2013

I'm probably missing like 140 songs, but as I would doing this list this morning, these are the ten that came into my head right away. I'll probably do another list or seven before the end of the year because I don't want to leave out any good songs because I know my opinion is soooo important to everyone. Anyway, these are my top ten tracks in a little organized playlist. Enjoy.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

The Deep || Nico Jaar // Zimmer // Guy Gerber // Owl Eyes // Motez // Maya Jane Coles // Eli & Fur // James Blake

(Pilar Zeta)

He played twice this week in Brooklyn and I missed both. One because he's a secret little mother who released info on the show 15 mins prior and the other because it sold out in 5 minutes and capacity at Glasslands is like nine people. Anyway, I've been fan-girling over everything Nico has produced this year, from his incredibly intense Darkside album to this bit, honestly it's like our souls are his play toys. Brilliant.

Everyone fitted over this when it came out so I laid back and didn't get into it because I didn't want to be a part of the hype. But then the other week I let my Soundcloud roll and when this came on, I became the happiest person in all of the land. I think I even smiled to myself even though I was alone. This track is so gorgeous, puts me in the best of moods and really just takes me away from reality. OH ZIMMER.

Uhhhh my friend showed me this this morning, knowing very well what my reaction to it would be, and I have not been able to stop tearing, let alone turn the damn track off all morning. I want to live in a land that Pilar Zeta has created with her incredibly talented graphic design and have this on repeat for the rest of time, maybe also with "Knowing we'll be Here" by Daniel Avery. God this is beautiful. If you're around in the city on Wednesday, Guy Gerber is playing a show that night and I suggest you go, but be sure to grab some tissues and dance your little heart out all night long.

It's just one of those songs that brings out your gut in full. Deep vibes like this with stunning female vocals like homegirl has? Game over.

MJC at it again always and forever, beast of all trades. Omg this remix is so intense, my heart actually starts to palpitate in really weird ways when this is on. AND SHE'S PLAYING NYE. So first we have Brodi, Gesaff and Para One, then when that's over, making my little way over to MJC to finish out the morning. Might be one of the greatest nights of all life.

OK so what I was doing when I first heard this track is so perfectly in sync that it's only meant to be that I become one with Eli & Fur. This is for sure one of the sexiest tracks of all time, and knowing that it's from two powerful femmes makes it sound 100% better. Speaking of female djs, everyone open up a new tab and check out the company my friend started called "Women in Dance Music." Be part of the movement! Share share share!

And some J Blake just for good measure. ;)


It's so cool to look at people you knew from years ago and see the awesome and incredibly amazing things some people are doing. It's even cooler to see that some people are doing things FOR others. My friend Jamie started the coolest thing ever, he started a clothing company where all the proceeds go to buying supplies for schools in need. Taking a personal stance on education in America is something we all should do, and I suggest you check out his company and help as much as you can.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Royksopp - Running to the Sea (VILLA Remix)

I still like to save songs that make me feel differently than normal for their own special post. Royksopp has always been a favorite of mine, they hit me the way Sigur Ros and Coco Rosie hit me, and this remix is just a ball of brilliance. The girls vocals are absolutely stunning, the whole song is gorgeous. It makes me feel very emotional, very happy, and very thankful that I can hear.


Mercury has been in retrograde the past couple weeks, and it has not screwed my shit up so much than ever before. My mood is off, I'm forgetting things, I don't want to be around people, and worst of all, I've wanted nothing to do with music, or the industry or anyone involved. I stayed home this weekend, didn't attend Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival, and didn't open my computer once this weekend. I've scoffed at musicians (except when I met James Blake last week) and honestly had no wherewithal to deal with anyone. But this morning, as I dragged myself to work and opened my Soundcloud, I listened through my stream and just cried and cried because music is so INCREDIBLY powerful and I forgot I don't do what I do for the people, or the ass hole dj's, or the stuck up fake celebrities, I do everything because I genuinely am in love with music, and I want everyone to feel the same way about it. Anyway, let's get to it:

[SAMPLE] THIS is good, honest dance music. Gorgon City always kills it with the beats, and MNEK will forever win first place for my favorite vocalist. The lyrics are perfect and the entirety of the song just sends warmth through your entire body. I can't wait for this to release, I swear I will be playing it every night before I go out. Fantastic. Pre-order it now!

Obviously the album in itself is perfection, and a couple of the remixes that have come out have really been incredible works of art. Shadow Child's remix of "Strong" in particular really stood out to me, but this remix, I don't know what it is, it has that powerful go hunting and running up a mountain kind of feel to it. I've never even heard of Kids of the Apocalypse either, but, I will certainly keep an ear out for them now.

I'm in love with this track, and I typically hate the sound of tropical steel drums in tracks, but for this, it works more than ever. I love the build up, I love the vocals, I love the whole feel of it. And then slam, it smacks you in the face with I don't even know what, but a noise that is very pleasing to my senses. So this song kind of covers all bases of emotions for me, bravo.

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMM. I want to quit my job, rent an old convertible, kidnap my best friend and just drive. Drive and drive and drive and only play this song because this is one of the most beautiful remixes I've heard in months. And it's hella tough to remix "Insane" as it is, because of the strength of the original but L D R U, you DOG. Fantastic.

James Blake is on that hip hop up and up I'm telling you. I don't listen to Drake, I don't listen to Chance the Rapper, but I do listen to James Blake and will listen to anything he involves himself in. Am I allowed to obsess even though I met him on Thursday night at Output and he had no idea I was such a fan of his??

The homie from Autograf sent me this track and I genuinely really like this remix. Amtrac is another on I am hesitant about listening to remixes to, but this is really mellow and fabulous. Great job Autograf.