February 6, 2004

{ TV on the Radio "Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes" }

Funny thing about the age of MP3 is that we don't listen to full albums as much as we used to. With CDs and a push of a button we were taken right to the beginning of the songs we wanted to hear, thus making it very easy to own albums with only 3 good songs. But now we have MP3s, gigs and gigs of songs by artists we barely know, and usually just one-off tracks, rarely a whole album. Instead of wanting to hear a new album these days, we just check a few tracks. Nobody needs to even bother hearing the crap filler anymore. Who has the time? We don't even have to find out what sucks, we just see which tracks the most people have and don't even mess with the rest. So the labels cry, and the artists whine, but there are still full albums out there to love. Full albums with solid tracklists, not a bum song in the bunch. Albums that we will buy and listen to over and over, even once we've moved on and MP3s feel like our crusty cassettes feel now. They're called 'good fucking albums,' and if you look hard enough you can still find a few here and there. Yeah. So, what's my point? My point is that the new album by TV on the Radio, called "Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes," is a great fucking album. (and this is where it gets juvenile) I love this band. And I like a lot of bands.... a whole lot of bands. Good bands. But these days, TV on the Radio are the sunshine in my damn morning, the clean towels for when I'm fresh out the shower, the neckrub at the end of my day, the fucking straw in my milkshake. These guys are doing it so right, so different, they're doing something that hits me right there. Where? There. The spot. The place where I'm not just tapping my foot when I'm driving, it's where I'm afraid I'm gonna bend my steering column from beating that bastard so damn hard. The place where I don't give a fuck who is watching me, or who can hear, I'm gonna sing along as loud as I fucking want, because it feels so fucking good to do so, but I still won't be able to hear what I sound like because I have the volume turned up so high that the girl at the bus stop knows why I'm moving so much in my driver's seat. And just when I'm smiling so damn big, and I'm thinking about how good I feel, how oddly happy I am to be sitting at that stoplight at that moment, it's at that moment that these guys pull out the stops and drop some secret weapon shit that just blows my roof. Damn. Nation. Buy this shit.

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By Garrett in Music | Comments:

Comments

agreed.

Posted by: stacy at February 8, 2004 11:46 PM

ohh ohh, me three!

Posted by: tanner at January 18, 2005 3:21 PM