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Day: November 4, 2011

Vildhjarta’s “Benblåst”

What the hell is this, some Halloween, Renn Faire Djent? I don’t know if I hate it or not, but I am pretty sure I don’t love it. Maybe I am just in a foul mood (I am).

To bed, men! For we rise at… 10:30ish!

Amazing. I’ve never seen the film, but it’s available on Netflix. I will watch the film soon! And you shall know of it!

Speak, the Hungarian Rapper

“Sometimes people make a war.”

“Don’t know what it’s for.”


Oh, so you did know what it was for?

This is genuinely horrible. Unlike the previous post featuring Bangs, this is just plain bad. There’s nothing redeeming about this at all. Here, I think an early line from the song perfectly exemplifies what I mean: “I hope my black brothers feel the same like me. Dre, Snoop, Puff, L, Tupac Shakur, rest in peace, he was the best.” What the fuck, Speak? What the fuck.

“Nobody wants a war. Life is short. Yeeah, come on.”

It would hesitate to even call this trash “rapping”. It’s more of a spoken-word track à la Bill Shatner’s brand of musical violence, but without being funny. He’s so earnest, so deep, so heartfelt that I cannot help but feel sickened at his outpouring of emotion. Speak wants so badly to have written the next great hip-hop ballad, but it comes off as so fucking trite that it’s laughable. God, and the group of backup singers?! Holy crap.

When he threw up the dove at the end, I threw up for real.

Thanks (but no thanks), Monica!

Bangs’ “Take U To Da Movies”

This is an internet classic, and I am sure you can understand why. I mean, just look at it. Bad composites, silly song, inane content, utterly sincere performer, the whole thing might as well be an object lesson in the perfect viral internet video. And the Youtube hits—6,161,198 as of this writing—suggest that I am correct.

What I think is really great about this though is the purity and naïveté of the sentiment Bangs is expressing. It’s not about bitches and bling and popping 9s, but about taking some nice girl he fancies on a date where he is going to make sure she gets popcorn and has a nice time because he likes her. Beneath all the imported US trappings of modern hip hop (money everywhere, pimp gadgets, gold chains, the trappings of the “baller” life style) is a sweet song about young romance. “Let me take you to the movies, shorty. I’m sure later on you’ll be my baby.” He’s courting her with nary a mention of ass shaking or pussy popping. Refreshing, right?

“Hey shorty, where you at, where you going? Can I see you later, because I can see you’re busy right now.” Respectful to a fault. Good man, Bangs, good man.