Archive for the ‘music’ tag

Terrible fucking music from the summer of 2009

It pains me to admit that the summer is officially over.

In many ways, Chicagoans were cheated this year.  June was cool and rainy, so summer weather didn’t begin in earnest until early July.  Due to the fact that Mother Nature is a vicious raving cunt, Chicago residents enjoyed a total of approximately six and a half weeks of summer weather.

Before I finish writing this post, the leaves will have turned to warm colors and the city will begin salting the streets.  Due to the abrupt change in weather, I would like to take this opportunity to reflect on the summer of 2009.

Music plays an important role in defining my memories of past summers.  Each year, certain “summer songs” become definitive reminders of the specific year. 

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No Doubt I’m too old for this shit

While I am a self-proclaimed douchebag, I am a pretty good boyfriend.

For boqueen’s birthday, I bought tickets to see her favorite band, No Doubt, play in Tinley Park. boqueen was born in late May, so it was a gift of delayed gratification.  After weeks of anticipation, the show finally arrived on Saturday. 

As a bloke in my late 20s, concertgoing is not a regular experience for me.  When I was a younger lad, concerts were a regular part of my summertime experience.  As I grew older, I became farther removed from radio play and popular music.  I feel like an old man: I cannot recognize, nor enjoy, the vast majority of music that is played on the radio today. 

Pop in a Sublime, Michael Jackson, Ice Cube or even a Beatles record, and I am good.  Tune in to a Top 40 radio station, and I am lost.  This is precisely why boqueen, who is several years younger than me, refers to me as “Captain Greyballs.” 

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Don’t compare Michael Jackson to Elvis, you fucking retard.

For a brief moment, I thought that Michael Jordan was dead.

“MJ is dead,” boqueen announced as I awoke from my afternoon nap. Instantly, my mind pictured pushing off of Bryon Russell in Utah before draining a jumper to win the 1998 NBA Finals. As Jordan watched his shot sink through the net with his hand extended in the air, I wondered whether we were talking about the same person.

“MJ?” I slowly repeated.

“Michael Jackson,” boqueen replied, fully understanding my confusion.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, my syllables prolonged by disbelief, “he was only 50.”

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Euro Euro bill y’all

From the bokeen vaults: this post originally appeared on my short-lived Blogger page. This was written one year ago.

Last night, I saw the music video for the song “Blue Magic” by Jay-Z. On the surface, there was nothing extraordinary about the video. However, about 90 seconds into the video, an image appeared on the screen that shook me to the core, and I now feel incredibly insecure about the future of our country.

The video included gratuitous shots of large amounts of money – a staple of hip-hop videos. At one point, a briefcase is opened to reveal tidy stacks of euros.

Keep in mind that the video is set in New York City, not in a European locale.

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