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Dub-STOP

Skrillex is in town tonight and I couldn't think of a more appropriate time to share a review I wrote over the summer concerning my thoughts on dubstep. (A normal person would just say "dub-step sucks" but a snarky 300-word explanation gives it more credence, right?) It is as follows:


Few would deny that all music today from rap, reggae, alternative – all the way to jazz takes its roots back to rock and roll. Somewhere along the evolutionary line of music, a malignant tumor appeared: a cacophony of sound that is seemingly rooted in the sounds of glass in a blender, extra-terrestrials at war, and a constantly skipping record.

Dubstep originated in south London, crediting itself as electronic dance music primarily produced with reverberant drum machines, heavy bass lines, synthesizer keyboards, and clipped samples. What started out in the early 2000s in the underground club scene infiltrated its way into the mainstream in 2011 to which it fell under commercial radar after pop-icons Britney Spears and Rihanna promoted dubstep tropes.

When I decided to tread the waves of dubstep popularity, I took the advice of a dubstep enthusiast and listened to an influential artist named Bassnectar. Bassnectar, like many dub-step artists, take samples of other artist’s music and “remixes” them. By remix I actually mean subverting songs to the point where it becomes incomprehensible noise. I am convinced this genre exists solely to ruin my favorite songs. I am also convinced that Michael Bay would make a prime dub-step artist because he already takes artistically promising concepts and loads it with CGI and explosions until it becomes preposterous.

In an attempt to find the root cause of discord to my ears, I dissected a song to hear where dubstep houses its discerning threshold.

In “Brief Introduction on Dubstep Production” by Dubba Jonny, he voice-overs a track naming all the ingredients integral to a dubstep song while it simultaneously plays in the background. Typically, a tempo of 140 beats per minute is selected.

“First we begin with a simple kick and snare pattern.”

This appears to be a solid foundation.

“Next it’s time to add some hi-hats and symbols to fill the spaces.”

Great.

“Add some modulated bass lines and be sure to make them heavy.”

Warning: heads become susceptible to bobbing at this point.

“Now you are ready for the most important part of any filthy dubstep anywhere – the drop.”

Cue the aforementioned cacophony of sound and a grab bag assortment of sound effects. The misstep appears to be that the drop, being the thesis to any dubstep track, is ironically its nadir.
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Peter Pan Syndrome

At nearly 21 years old, I realize that the fountain of youth, whatever that may be, doesn’t have to be compromised in the transition towards adulthood. As long as we hold on to that little magic that is youth, we don’t have to abandon things we enjoy simply because we are getting old. One magic aspect of Disneyland is that problems seemingly don’t exist. Calories did not exist as I was chin deep in Mexican cuisine in the tourist trap of Downtown Disney. The pimple on my forehead certainly did not exist as the bright, radiating sunlight hit my face, exposing all my pores for others to see. Disneyland somehow had this effect to erase all bad things that would otherwise take a dash of self-denial and an active self-awareness to ignore. The beautiful thing about youth, namely children, is that they are carefree by nature, whether they are unabashedly proud*, or at least optimistically oblivious**, to what would otherwise be inane adult problems***. Before you enter the park, Walt Disney welcomes you with: “Here you leave today, and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.” These are the words of a successful entrepreneur who never grew up. With his ingenuity, wild imagination, and desire - even posthumously - to create an ever-expanding theme park, a person never has to. Instead of always waiting for my next trip to Disneyland, I ought to create a life I don’t need to temporarily escape from. While I will inevitably get older, it does not necessarily mean I have to grow up. Sharing my similar reluctance to adulthood, Peter Pan once said: “All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie dust." I refuse to ever lose sight of that pixie dust.


*Exhibit A
**Exhibit B
***Did I mention my acne-inducing hormones?
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Post-Modern Zombies

The other day, my friend made a seemingly mundane comment that “walking is a lost art.” As we were observing Seattle with our legs as our modes of transportation, I realized I had discovered things I had previously failed to see in passing. This comment that appeared cliché on the surface suddenly penetrated into something deeply perceptive. The idea of living in a routine (including the banality of driving) has obscured my sight, and subsequently my wonder, from a city I have lived in my whole life. Prior to that day, everything was merely a peripheral vision. I would even go as bold to say that I suddenly felt lost in a city from a perspective that wasn’t my car. On a macro-level, human growth isn’t just shaped by education, or the chain of experiences that lead you to who you are today. I firmly believe that growth lies in a state that allows error and vulnerability. Personal growth is most influential in a perspective that leaves you in a state of unknown. Walking isn’t any more of a lost art than the state of being lost itself. Sometimes life has to be lived by the idiom that in order to take a step forward, you must also take a step backward. We often become caught up in the routine of everyday life that we are simply seeing, and not perceiving. This is my world and I want to explore it.
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Time passing, timely passing

A few days ago, our family microwave met its inexorable demise after nearly over a decade run. I was truly saddened. This wasn't any regular microwave, and certainly not contemporary, it had a late 80's/early 90's dial and you'd have to double the amount of cooking time than a meal suggested because of how old and worn out it was getting. In our technological day and age, I guess you could say it amounted to something of the Stone Age. I used it from the time I was old enough to operate a microwave until now where it's my go-to tool of making my greater means of sustenance. Despite it's fickleness in function, it was a reminder of how fast-paced the world has become before it faded into nostalgia and joined in the passing of my walkman and light-up shoes. It was a reminder that before there were iTunes, Netflix, and social networking there were vinyls and cassettes, VHS, and a time where a majority of our day wasn't spent in front of a LCD screen. Accessibility has become at the tip of our fingers. As I sit here, staring at the unopened box of our new 2010 touch-screen microwave, there is something that can be taken from the ye olde microwave -- just as it took twice as long to warm its inner content, perhaps we need to slow down for just one moment in this fast-paced life to just enjoy whatever's inside ours.
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My friend Jayna took this photo on accident yesterday for her photo project. We tried to emulate the same shot several times afterwards, but just couldn't produce the right result or harness the free spirit.

Don't let your life be too contrived, it gets boring...or just doesn't turn out quite as beautiful.


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Top 10 albums of 2009

2009 has been a great year for music and while these are in no particular order, these are the albums that have surpassed my expectations/surprised me/have generally been in heavy rotation/or are just plain fucking good. Enjoy!

10. Manchester Orchestra - Mean Everything To Nothing
9. Metric - Fantasies
8. Cartel - Cycles
7. Phoenix - Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
6. Paramore - Brand New Eyes
5. Ivory - Goodnight, Goodbye
4. Brand New - Daisy
3. Monsters of Folk - Monsters of Folk
2. Regina Spektor/John Mayer - Far/Battle Studies , I had to cheat!
1. Fun. - Aim and Ignite, hands down.
***
top guilty pleasures
Demi Lovato - Here We Go Again , girl's got some serious chops and jams!
The Summer Set - Love Like This
A Rocket to the Moon - On Your Side, I seriously have to listen to them while I shower


*Also highly notable mentions to hometown bands that I can't stop listening to but couldn't fit onto my list, This Providence - Where Are You Now? and all that is He Is We.
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The Honey Hole

Eating is a top hobby of mine... as well as a great means of sustenance. This winter break, I'd love to continue to burn holes in my pocket for Urban Spoon and Yelp excursions after stumbling upon the holy grail of sandwich shops today on E Pike St. The Honey Hole and Loving Hut (poorly named and could be easily mistaken for female escort services) are two restaurants I've been wanting to try for there excellent reviews, reputation, and vegan/vegetarian menu. As I Yelped directions, I came across this gem of a review:

"I originally stumbled upon this eatery while searching the interwebs for a female escort. I've always found the better ones to be named after some sort of sweetener. Think about it, even The Rolling Stones sung about the joys of Brown Sugar.

Then the inner marketing guy in me saw the second part of the name & thought she must be pretty smart. Y'know, if you were looking for a tow truck, you'd breeze right past a company named "Acme" but if they said what they did and were named "Acme Towing" you'd give them your business. So when I saw HoneyHole, I knew I wanted to give her the business. Sweet & cavernous, what more could a boy want?

When I got there, I realized it was a sandwich shop. I figured I hiked all this way, I may as well eat something. I did. It was good."

This review pretty much says it all. First you allow a little giggle room for its name. You eat. And it's good. Damn good. Drew ordered a Gooch sandwich. He was afraid of its pronunciation, but it's exactly what you think. As for me, I had a veggie dirt burger. I wonder what the Love Hut has to offer me.