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More reasons why France is awesome in my book

Daft Punk.

I was at first hesitant to include them in this catagory because I am still convinced they are at least partly alien/robot hybrid. But I will respect their official story out of raw admiration for those fine humanoids.

My first contact with Daft Punk was in middle school, when my friend lent me one of their older albums on vinyl when I was going through an embarrassingly short DJ/Turntablist phase in my life. I have no idea where he got it from, but at the time I remember not knowing what to think of all these funky robot basslines and electro grooves.



I am one of those people grossly guilty of putting Daft Punk on the mental backburner and just taking them for granted for YEARS. But then you'll hear a song and all of a sudden your brain explodes with nostalgia and extasy. I can't think of another group that just makes me so damn HAPPY. And I am so excited to finally see them get some of the mainstream respect they deserve. I mean, and I can't hate Kanye for chopping out a section of their song and rapping over it, making millions. I know Busta is pissed somewhere, thinking he squeezed all the success he could out of Daft Punk samples.


And holy fuck, one of my absolute to-do-before-I-die items is seeing them live. Just watching archived footage of their live sets sends endless streams of endorphins to the dome. I can't imagine anything better.




I know there's a bajillion videos and audios I could put up to more explicitly illustrate my point but can you watch that and not just feel a little better about things? I can't. And that's why I tip my hat off to you Daft Punk, you fine gentlemen. Or whatever you are.

I should start writing things

But instead I'm just going to pass on this distressingly catchy tune which I haven't been able to shake out of my head which, as the days go by, is becoming increasingly concerning.

Soonsoon.

Reason for my lack of posts and my forsaking my computer in general lately

After a long battle of frustration and heartbreak I decided to say fuck computers. I replaced my computer with a piano. With the unfortunate side effect of having to sneak into my moms house to use her cpu on occasion just so I'm not completely disconnected with the world. But I have no regrets.

Prince Zimboo Always Comes Through

I first heard Prince Zimboo through a hysterical song I randomly found during my routine zombieing of the internets. It consisted of the beat from that horrendous "pop champagne" song from a while back, but in place of the unbearably cliche rap lyrics was a thick accented gentleman comedically waxing poetry about hardships and life lessons from the perspective of African royalty. I figured it almost had to be a parody, but my curiousity led me to creepily hitting him up on Myspace (back when I still had one). To my surprise he responded almost instantly. Since then, I corresponded with him from time to time, and for quite a while I was obsessed with trying to figure out what he was all about. I mean, the traditional African attire, the weirdo stunnaglasses, the perpetual charming cheshire-cat smile down to that goddamn crocodile stick. Was he the real deal? Was it all just a gimmick? In the end I came to the conclusion that it doesn't even matter. Because it's all entertaining, and that's the bottom line when it comes down to it.

Fast forward to the present. I had all but forgotten about Prince Zimboo, when I heard a familiar "HEH!" while nearing the end of the Major Lazer album which I had just got around to listening to. I gotta say, I rarely LOL while listening to music, but this song made me fucking crack up, all by myself.



Call me crazy but I can't explain how randomly hilarious that was to me at the time.

I decided to check up on my man Zimboo, and found out he's been keeping busy. I found this freestyle he did over the "Hold the Line" instrumental from the Major Lazer single, which I found greatly amusing. Of course, keeping in the tradition of Mad Decent music videos, there's random ass pop-culture video clips sprinkled in for good measure, but that makes it all the better in my book.




Anyways, I say support Prince Zimboo. He's a good man. I know I don't need to provide links, google the motherfucker. Peace love and happiness. And as always, big up yourself.

Adderall is horrendous and non-condusive to a good life

My first memory of Adderall is a confused one. I was prescribed the drug in high-school to counter-act my diagnosis of ADD. Prone to mysterious allergies and miscellaneous mood disorders for most of my life, I was no stranger to random pharmaceuticals being pushed on me. So I took a bunch, expecting the same result I got when I took Zoloft: Nothing.

What I remember from that day/night/day again is a myriad of fuckedupness. Just a rollercoaster of emotion. I remember euphorically blasting Happy 2b Hardcore anthems and dancing by myself for hours. I remember having some kind of dramatic mental breakdown and cutting myself with a clothespin. I remember having a weird heart-to-heart with my mom. I remember laying in bed, feeling my heart racing, wondering when I will be able to sleep again, or if I even will.

The most vivid memory I have is laying on the floor, watching the dusty shafts of sunlight come in through the blinds in the window and listening to this song by The Books over and over and over again.

Even to this day, weird emotions are invoked inside me every time I hear that haunting little guitar melody.

I didn't take Adderall again until sometime last year. Learning from my mistakes, I took great care not to overdose like an asshole for no reason. And I believed it to be a miracle drug. Holy shit, the papers I pulled out of my ass for the couple college classes I had. The work I did, and loved it.

That's what Adderall does. It makes you do shit that normally you just don't want to do. Which for me is heaven. Seeing as how my whole life can me summed up as series incidents where I don't do something I don't want to do but should do, and getting fucked for it. I don't even know the meaning of procrastination when I'm on adderall. It gives you a 3 hour window where you can do anything.

It wasn't until months afterwards that I equated my intense irritability and depression as part of coming down off Adderall. It's fucking horrible coming down off aderall for me. It makes me hate myself and everyone else. Now even at the height of Adderall elation and prolonged productiveness, there is no enjoyment, only dread at the come down. To the point where I don't even want this shit. It's literally Bi-Polar in pill form.

Then I go a few days without it. And those few days are the most unproductive, waste of life days of my entire life. Seriously, how the fuck did I get along without this bullshit. It's like everything I do is half-assed. I can't write a fucking thing. I don't respond to messages because I don't feel witty enough. 99 percent of the writing I've done on this silly blog was a direct result of those miserable orange little capsules. And don't get me started on my music. If you ever want to spend 8-10 hours sitting in front of a computer screen, completely oblivious to eveyththing in the world including your basic human needs (like, i don't know.. EATING FOOD), take Adderall, put on a good pair of headphones, and load up Fruityloops. I lost 20+ pounds since I started taking Adderall again. I've heard of doctors prescribing the drug as a diet pill, and I can absolutely understand why. It makes you expend massive amounts of energy while at the same time demolishing any remote sense of appetite. It really can't be healthy.

It sucks having that weird insecurity where you feel like most of your talent comes from some manufactured chemical. It makes me wonder how it is even legal. I mean, when it comes down to it, it's literally legal speed. It's a street-drug but the pusher is a doctor. It baffles me. I know a drug is a street drug, when my hippy younger brother is constantly asking me to "hook it up with some addy's on the cheap".


Anyways, I could probably go on forever about my love/hate relationship of prescription amphetamines. But I won't. I have yardwork to do before my high wears off.

3 reasons why France is awesome in my book

#1



Mr. Oizo.

.It is strange that I never even knew the right way to pronounce Mr. Oizo (WAH-ZOH) until very recently. Nor did I know he was a frenchmen. For some reason the random ass french samples in his album didn't clue me in when I was younger. This album is Analog Worms Attack, and i've recently come to the realization of just how influential this album has been to my strange musical mind. It was one of those instances that I purchased an album twice (back when people still bought albums... At like cd stores or something.) because I lost the original.

This album is what made me fall in love with that sound. Just that grimey ass sound which I've subconsciously compared every song I've heard since to, hoping to hear even the faintest traces of it. Its just so fucking DIRTY. It's almost like I get some kind of guilty, filthy sort of pleasure out of it. I swear I could listen to that damned repeating synth line from the title track forever. Literally. If that song never stopped I wouldn't mind. In fact after I've listened to it, it tends to not stop in my head for days, sometimes weeks. I hadn't seen the video until now, but its just as fucking weird as I figured it would be.



Admittedly, I've been a little let down by his more recent releases but no matter what, Mr. Oizo will always have a place in my heart and soul. Also Mr. Oizo's onetime parter/sidekick/mascot Flat Eric (made famous by the very odd levi commercials of days long gone by), made a guest appearance in the music video of a song which was initially a hidden bonus track on the album. This resulted in a cinematic masterpiece, and one of my personal favorite videos of all time:

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Honestly, while everything about this video is great, there's only one concrete fact that always comes to mind about Flat Eric every time I see it: No one else has, or ever will be able to pull off smoking a hot dog with such gentlemanly distinction and class.


#2




M83

Goddamn, do I love M83. I think if there's any music group I could aspire to sound like, it would be them. In stark contrast to the spartan grittiness of Mr. Oizo, M83 is like sex for the ears. A lush, thick tapestry of sound. My favorite M83 songs build up to the point of aural orgasm. The density of some of their songs is just so goddamn fulfilling. Just a wall of joy.

This is another video I hadn't seen until now. And it also captures the essence of the song well. M83 is one of those groups that would almost be corny if they didn't sound so goddamn pretty.

I'm still pissed at Danny P for conveniently breaking his leg the day before we were going to see them at a show. Asshole. In hindsight though, that's no excuse since I should have gone by myself.



Finally #3 reason my France is awesome in my book.



Serge fucking Gainsbourg.

This is another artist whose name I went years without knowing the proper pronunciation of. This went on until one of my mom's friends, who just happened to be french, corrected me when I was awkwardly letting them listen to a remix I made of his. I'm a fucking asshole.

But besides that, what can I say about the man. He's legendary in my book. The more I learn about him the more enriched my man-crush becomes.

I found out about this man by a chance encounter with one of his more oddball songs on some underground radio station. As I was with my bff Dave, who shares with me an inescapable affinity for latching on to weird, obscure things and never letting go, we immediately took to the bizarre foreign pop tune. Not soon after we purchased a best-of album which we kept in rotation constantly, for a near eternity. It wasn't until much later that I actually researched the man, and an in the process developed a peculiar infatuation.

I'll say it: the man was a fucking creep. A fucking sleazy ass frenchmen. He was an alcoholic and an almost comically chronic chain-smoker. But that makes his music so much more divine. The man was just a weirdo. But he consistently brought provocatively brilliant sounds to the European masses. Sadly the only song much of the western world recognizes him for is "Je t'aime... moi non plus" (translated: "I love you... Me neither."), in which he simulates sex with his model wife and part time duet-mate, Jane Birkin.



Its really hard to describe just what my fascination is with Serge Gainsbourg. I think it just has to do with the very idea him. It just makes me happy. Just this idea of this man possessing such raw, genuine creative genius, but who only really cared about making music that offended as many people as possible, and being an all-around creep. Even so, he was ALWAYS on some next level shit, absolutely refusing to be pigeonholed into one genre. I mean, the dude flew to Jamaica to record a reggae album before anybody knew what the fuck reggae was, nevermind bob marley. Just that image of him making music and smoking butts all day with Rastafarians (who probably had no idea what to make of him) just brings a smile to my face.



Reading his biography, the shenanigans he pulled were absolutely hilarious, although inevitably his personal life was somewhat tragic on the whole. My only regret is not being french, so I can't fully appreciate his music from a lyrical perspective. But even from translations I can tell its gold.

I'm working on making an album consisting soley of Serge Gainsbourg remixes, and its the funnest thing I've ever done, even though the end result might be a little.. strange. But its fun, and like Ronald Jenkees told me, that's all that matters.

I end this French entry with probably my favorite Serge Gainsbourg video ever. Although it isn't a music video, instead it's a live talk-show interview with huge pop sensation at the time, Whitney Houston. But I feel like it still captures the essence of the man, the myth, the legend. The romantic, the poet, and the all-around scallywag.

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