That's My Dad. |
Whenever I believe something is fantastic by any means, I instinctively subtitle it as "That's My Dad", since dads are a given synonym for fantastic. Albeit not every father is great, on this website we'll live in our fantasies where everyone's dad goes fishing with you, takes you to strip clubs, concerts and manages to impress your friends with his 96' Impala. That's My Dad: A collection of all things considered, neglected and popularized. |
Top 50 Songs of 2012: #2, TNGHT - Higher Ground
Reaching for higher ground.
You’re at a gorgeous party and the person of your dreams is next to the bar, looking more desirable than ever fathomable. Likewise, you make your way and without much effort, swoon the individual into a maddening and tantalizing session of fucking. The doors are slamming, the sheets are ruffling, the bed is running out of springs that work, the rug is ruined! Not only are you amazed at how unbelievably circumstantial the situation is, but also how dream-like everything is paced. And just when the metaphysical steam of the room is opening your pores and setting ablaze to all senses, the dream boy/girl eyes turn neon red and turn into a homicidal and menacing murdering robot. Tossing and turning, whilst still engaged in fucking, he/she begins shooting lethal lasers from its eyes and moving savagely for your death. Feathers from the pillows are flying, curtains are burning, furniture is being destroyed and, while dodging it all, you have never felt more turned on in your entire life. And, most likely, you will never feel that again.
Top 50 Songs of 2012: #19, Baauer - Harlem Shake
And do the harlem shake.
My best friend is addicted to trap music and dubstep. In the initial of this turn of events to his growing obsession, I grew worried he wasn’t getting all of his nutrition from the proverbial music-food pyramid: indie rock, hip-hop, metal, punk, pop, etc. The wub-wub’s grew to an excess and at one point, I couldn’t look at him anymore. He wasn’t the Richard I knew. His face deformed. He would snicker to himself and hunched over all the time. He lived in a glitched out world where the only question people asked was “Where’s the drop?”. He was somebody else. A monster. Somewhere down the line this year came Baauer in his daily routine. He played “Harlem Shake” in his car and it marked something special: the official moment when I took the plunge into the abyss with him. Into the world of… dubstep. I come from the slums of that underworld to report this is my favorite dubstep track of the year. Join us.
P.S. I’ve always loved dubstep and it’s okay if you do to.
