Vice Magazine: en kärleksförklaring
Utan någon större introduktion eller något i den stilen skall jag publicera det som jag för tillfället läser, vice magazine.
Rättare sagt deras skivrecensions-sidor.
Dessa är perfekta.
De kanske gillar sjuk musik men du läser inte dessa sidor för att se vad för musik alla som är alldeles för coola för vanliga döda (och finnar, fast vad danskarna lyssnar på kan du hoppa över. Danmark suger fortfarande och blogg-inlägget Danmark: Hell on Earth kanske dyker upp i en närastående framtid) utan för att läsa de gloriösa sågningarna.
Jag hade nästan inte kunnat skriva det bättre själv.
ELEANOORA ROSENHOLM
Vainajan Muotokuva Fonal
This is hit music with a catch. There is a lot of pretentious Cirque du Soleil stuff in it, but it’s also stupid enough to win the Eurovision song contest. The singing is boring, and the lyrics I can’t really say anything about since I couldn’t hear yksi, kaksi, kolme anywhere in them. But what I can say is that the feeling isn’t there, and the feeling, as we all know, is all there is.
FLO RIDA
Low (Feat. T-Pain)
Poe-Boy Music Group/ Atlantic Records
T-Pain is on every track ever made. He lives in the studio, snuggled up in a sleeping bag, and just when the engineer is about to finish things off, he jumps out from under the table and goes back to work. He doesn’t pay rent and he loves the air conditioning.
ERYKAH BADU
New Amerykah Part One (4th World War)
Motown Records
I’m already annoyed, just by the title of this one. It’s your standard Afrocentric, hand-woven, wool wearing lady preaching. My brother my sister, just stick it to the man and like, just provoke and provoke until your music sucks. And every titty is hanging down because you had 100 kids by different rappers and everything is so vegan you wouldn’t even recognize a real dick if it slapped you in the face. I mean, somewhere under there the message is all good, but the delivery is fucking annoying, all oiled up and smelling like incense and stale granola. And I don’t know how Mark Ronson could steal the production Grammy from Timbaland. Scandalous! Just proves once again how crackheads always win in the end.
RICK ROSS
Trilla
Def Jam/Universal
Cocaine is so lame. Nosebleeds are nasty. Bleeding of any kind is nasty. White is the dumbest colour ever—you can’t wear it anywhere and it isn’t even a colour. Not even Johnny Depp could make coke seem hot and that just says it all. Just like Chris Brown became the new Ne-Yo who became the new Usher, and now Usher is trying to be the new Chris Brown: that’s how drugs work. Coke is the new crack, crack was the new coke and now crystal meth is trying to become the new coke. I really hope it does, because I’m so sick and tired of coke rappers and coke this and coke that. Can’t they rap about opium? And Miami sucks too, it’s like a city full of gigantic bugs in bikinis. The only time it isn’t sticky hot over there is when there’s a hurricane on the way.
För övrigt fick den ovanstående recensionen en "tumme upp". Var någonstans hände det? Jag vet inte.
Men det är därför man älskar Vice. Inget jävla musikjournalistiskt skit utan bara texter som oftast inte har någonting med musiken att göra. Kaos är det nya vita.
MILLENCOLIN
Machine
15 Burning Heart/Epitaph
There is no part in my heart, body or soul that doesn’t ache to be back in the musical era of 1994-96 when bands like SOIA, Earth Crisis, Madball and Refused played at Bergslagsrocken. Millencolin played there, too, and I was living what in retrospect turned out to be the time of my life. So it was with considerable nostalgia that I put this album on. But behold, it offers nothing, and least of all surprises. Machine 15 contains 15 identical and mediocre softcore songs, none of which can even begin to bring me back to 1995. But I’ll admit that there is some comfort in the fact that I wasn’t the only one peeking thirteen years ago.
Han med skägget från Peter, Björn och Apan Banane
The truth is that I don’t like Peter Morén’s singing. That’s why I could never listen to Peter Bjorn and John albums, even though reason told me there were some good songs there. He just sounds like someone even I could beat up. And that’s saying a lot because, for those who don’t know me, I weigh 48 kilos. Right now I’m nine minutes into this album and I’m starting to get a rash already. I can’t fucking stand this. Now he’s singing in French. Look, I wouldn’t even fight this guy because it would be so unfair to him. French, for fucks sake! Are there any limits to the tenderness of a Swedish guy?
Notis: Grönt är en jävla färg. Speciellt tillsammans med gult.
Grönt och gult är guds sätt att visa att livet inte är så jävla svårt.
Grönt och gult tillsammans får mig att vilja sjunga gamla visor från gamla skolavslutningar.
Grönt och gult får mig att vilja bli full, grilla, bli fullare, grilla mera, och robotdansa hem lyckligare än Tomas di Leva när han hittar en ny klänning.
Fan vad grönt och gult är bra.
Fan vad jag skriver bra.
Haha, det måste suga att inte vara mig.
Seriöst...
Rättare sagt deras skivrecensions-sidor.
Dessa är perfekta.
De kanske gillar sjuk musik men du läser inte dessa sidor för att se vad för musik alla som är alldeles för coola för vanliga döda (och finnar, fast vad danskarna lyssnar på kan du hoppa över. Danmark suger fortfarande och blogg-inlägget Danmark: Hell on Earth kanske dyker upp i en närastående framtid) utan för att läsa de gloriösa sågningarna.
Jag hade nästan inte kunnat skriva det bättre själv.
ELEANOORA ROSENHOLM
Vainajan Muotokuva Fonal
This is hit music with a catch. There is a lot of pretentious Cirque du Soleil stuff in it, but it’s also stupid enough to win the Eurovision song contest. The singing is boring, and the lyrics I can’t really say anything about since I couldn’t hear yksi, kaksi, kolme anywhere in them. But what I can say is that the feeling isn’t there, and the feeling, as we all know, is all there is.
FLO RIDA
Low (Feat. T-Pain)
Poe-Boy Music Group/ Atlantic Records
T-Pain is on every track ever made. He lives in the studio, snuggled up in a sleeping bag, and just when the engineer is about to finish things off, he jumps out from under the table and goes back to work. He doesn’t pay rent and he loves the air conditioning.
ERYKAH BADU
New Amerykah Part One (4th World War)
Motown Records
I’m already annoyed, just by the title of this one. It’s your standard Afrocentric, hand-woven, wool wearing lady preaching. My brother my sister, just stick it to the man and like, just provoke and provoke until your music sucks. And every titty is hanging down because you had 100 kids by different rappers and everything is so vegan you wouldn’t even recognize a real dick if it slapped you in the face. I mean, somewhere under there the message is all good, but the delivery is fucking annoying, all oiled up and smelling like incense and stale granola. And I don’t know how Mark Ronson could steal the production Grammy from Timbaland. Scandalous! Just proves once again how crackheads always win in the end.
RICK ROSS
Trilla
Def Jam/Universal
Cocaine is so lame. Nosebleeds are nasty. Bleeding of any kind is nasty. White is the dumbest colour ever—you can’t wear it anywhere and it isn’t even a colour. Not even Johnny Depp could make coke seem hot and that just says it all. Just like Chris Brown became the new Ne-Yo who became the new Usher, and now Usher is trying to be the new Chris Brown: that’s how drugs work. Coke is the new crack, crack was the new coke and now crystal meth is trying to become the new coke. I really hope it does, because I’m so sick and tired of coke rappers and coke this and coke that. Can’t they rap about opium? And Miami sucks too, it’s like a city full of gigantic bugs in bikinis. The only time it isn’t sticky hot over there is when there’s a hurricane on the way.
För övrigt fick den ovanstående recensionen en "tumme upp". Var någonstans hände det? Jag vet inte.
Men det är därför man älskar Vice. Inget jävla musikjournalistiskt skit utan bara texter som oftast inte har någonting med musiken att göra. Kaos är det nya vita.
MILLENCOLIN
Machine
15 Burning Heart/Epitaph
There is no part in my heart, body or soul that doesn’t ache to be back in the musical era of 1994-96 when bands like SOIA, Earth Crisis, Madball and Refused played at Bergslagsrocken. Millencolin played there, too, and I was living what in retrospect turned out to be the time of my life. So it was with considerable nostalgia that I put this album on. But behold, it offers nothing, and least of all surprises. Machine 15 contains 15 identical and mediocre softcore songs, none of which can even begin to bring me back to 1995. But I’ll admit that there is some comfort in the fact that I wasn’t the only one peeking thirteen years ago.
Han med skägget från Peter, Björn och Apan Banane
The truth is that I don’t like Peter Morén’s singing. That’s why I could never listen to Peter Bjorn and John albums, even though reason told me there were some good songs there. He just sounds like someone even I could beat up. And that’s saying a lot because, for those who don’t know me, I weigh 48 kilos. Right now I’m nine minutes into this album and I’m starting to get a rash already. I can’t fucking stand this. Now he’s singing in French. Look, I wouldn’t even fight this guy because it would be so unfair to him. French, for fucks sake! Are there any limits to the tenderness of a Swedish guy?
Notis: Grönt är en jävla färg. Speciellt tillsammans med gult.
Grönt och gult är guds sätt att visa att livet inte är så jävla svårt.
Grönt och gult tillsammans får mig att vilja sjunga gamla visor från gamla skolavslutningar.
Grönt och gult får mig att vilja bli full, grilla, bli fullare, grilla mera, och robotdansa hem lyckligare än Tomas di Leva när han hittar en ny klänning.
Fan vad grönt och gult är bra.
Fan vad jag skriver bra.
Haha, det måste suga att inte vara mig.
Seriöst...
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