I miss “The Ear,” and my attempts to resurrect it through alternative means have resulted in a stalled Tumblog and Music Video Meltdowns (which Molly Smith and Sara Rasmussen tell me are great, but then again, they worship the ground I walk on).
“The Ear” was the unofficial music pullout in the The Pioneer and was managed by alum Alex Frank. It was like Pitchfork, only not as pretentious. Well, okay, we were pretentious (you could only enjoy Britney Spears ironically). Andrew Hall crafted haikus about Robocop. Sophie Johnson talked about how much she wanted to have sex with everybody on staff. Grant Margeson hated Animal Collective. Keith Cushner loved Panda Bear. I poked fun at Alex for his love of Fall Out Boy. Frankly, I did that at every meeting.
Either way, “The Ear” cultivated my love of music both new and old. I’m addicted to the Hype Machine. My earphones are glued to my head during those long jaunts to the classroom. I cannot go a day without finding a new song.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I need my music to survive. I’ve been angry most of my senior year, because I realized that the life I had coming in as a freshman was radically different from the life I have now as a senior. So, when that 10-page paper was due tomorrow, or when my friends were pissing me off, I retreated into these songs.
The inevitable love songs: Umbrella (featuring Jay-Z) –– Rihanna, House of Cards –– Radiohead, Wait – The Kills, Maps –– Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Cars – Drive
I’m a heartless romantic. Not hopeless. Heartless. Dudes break my heart constantly, so I guess I’ll go to Hot Topic, buy some tight clothing, and dye my hair jet black. Ha, no. Never. I’ll just take comfort in Rihanna offering me a place under her umbrella. Or Karen O’s faint compusure in “Maps.” Or the slow and passionate lull of “Wait.” Yeah, I cry myself to sleep every night.
“Disco” never died: I Regret The Flower Power –– Black Devil Disco Club, From Here to Eternity –– Giorgio Moroder, Lights and Music –– Cut Copy, Get Innocuous –– LCD Soundsystem
Disco will get its due some day, especially Italo disco. It certainly engendered my love for today’s current dance music. Giorgio Morder and Black Devil threw down some great synths in the past, so bless LCD and Cut Copy for keeping them alive. Now if only I could get more people to listen to them rather than Flo Rida over and over again.
Lupe Fiasco FTW: Paris, Tokyo –– Lupe Fiasco
When I interviewed Aisha Fukushima about her post-bac grant, she mentioned that her undergraduate conference presentation would involve Lupe Fiasco. I responded enthusiastically. “The Cool” doesn’t work as a concept album, but Lupe is still at the top of his game. “Paris, Tokyo” is a reminder of the time I had away from Whitman in another country, and how I’ll probably never get that chance again. I mean, I will when I’m rich and famous and loved all over (or I meet a sugar daddy), but for now, Lupe will take me to those far off places with his flow.
Music Shruthi Manjunath would not like or understand: Street Hassle –– Lou Reed, Rapture –– Blondie, More – Peaches, Work – Junior Boys, NYC – Interpol
“Um, okay, what is this? Why is she rapping? Did he just say ‘the subway is a porno’? Why is this woman so abrasive and psychosexual? ‘Pick up the paperweight’? Oh, wow, deep. Don’t even get me started on this song about prostitutes. Listen, Sado, I love you but this is some stupid sh*t. Now play me some Metro Station.”
Tiny dancer: Summer’s Gonna Hurt You –– Diplo
One of these days I’m going to choreograph a dance around this song, except: oops: I can’t dance [Ed. note: Yes he can]. My BFF Ozzie Angel would probably do it, because he is an exceptional dancer. Also, tiny.
Do not want: Asher Roth –– I Love College
Screw you, Asher Roth.
