Disco Horror

My dudes, this is what I feel like today:

Do you feel me on this one? We’ve all been there, right? Going through the DTs in Spain, and wishing you were banging some frizzy-haired Irish chick, and all you want is a pint of Harp, and maybe a fucking egg, so much that you start writing letters, to people you don’t really even know, and you’re obsessing so hard over your Harp, and your goddamn egg, that you keep writing it, over and over, in your sweat-stained, hand-written letter, where is my Harp, and why can’t I find an egg, just a single egg, to fry on the sidewalk. It is humid as fuck today and even walking around the goddamn house feels like jumping into a hot tub filled with sweat. It’s like ninety, ninety-five zillion degrees, and I am afraid I will die if I walk outside, of some kind of heat-related disease, such as burning to death. Also, there is no more beer. What a day! Is this what it’s like to go to prison? Probably. Even more, though, this is what it’s like to be Irish in Spain. You could fry an egg on the sidewalk!! If you could find one.

The fact is, most of you will never be as bad off as I am right now. I am on the front lines of the blogging phenomenon, and I make it my duty to sustain myself, even though it’s hot out and I can’t find an egg. Plus: guys: I am listening to some rad music right now: Lugnet.

I don’t really know what “lugnet” means, except that when you Google it you turn up a lot of websites about Legos, so I’m going to go ahead and assume, as I usually do, that these edits, released across two different twelve-inches, were put together in some kind of Swedish sweat lodge staffed by small yellow cylindrical-headed people whose paralyzed, cup-shaped hands painstakingly created a half-dozen super-sweet tracks out of songs that I don’t recognize. I heard their joint “Tralla” in the super-fuckin-great Ronny & Renzo cosmic disco mix, which sounds like a midnight hike through the jungle ending at a sweet early-morning beach party, and it is, you know, great.

And Lugnet are great! If I am in the mood, I can get pretty annoyed at the whole release-an-edit-under-your-own-name thing, partly because, you know, why not credit the dude who wrote the bulk of the song, but also because, you are not that cool, skinny Swedish/Brooklyn beardo, you are just raiding your acid-damaged uncle’s crates and chopping boring parts out of songs. But you know what? It’s too hot to be annoyed by things like that. I’m hitting you up with Lokomotiv, which is some kind of smog-addled-spirit-journey joint: enjoy this. And the pint of harp.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 10th, 2009 at 12:33 pm and is filed under Edits. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.