Song of the day – 426: Azealia Banks
I’ve been meaning to feature this song since formatting its video in Brigette’s excellent list of songs from 2011.
My life doesn’t change much day-to-day, you know? Tiredness is omnipresent. I rarely leave the house, except for school runs. Supermarket runs. Playground runs. I very rarely walk anywhere. Heat is omnipresent. All you’re thinking about at any given moment is how you’re going to survive through to the next meal break, the time you’re allowed to sleep yourself. The next two hours. The next 20 minutes. Are Isaac and Daniel going to have another barney: what, now? Who’s going to wake us in the middle of the night tonight? How long will we stay awake afterwards because of it? Will Daniel allow me to sleep after 4.30am? Damn this heat. What’s the easiest meal I can cook tonight without throwing up in disgust at myself? Maybe I should check Facebook, the site stats, Twitter. See if there are any conversations going on. Maybe one more game of onscreen Hearts. When am I going to have a chance to re-kickstart my PhD? Why does no one contribute to Collapse Board anymore? Is that it, the novelty is over. Back to the mundane, the reality of scored reviews and everyone following everyone else. Damn, I’m tired.
Occasionally, music will intrude upon this world, but you best believe that headphones aren’t much of a way out – it’s too hot, too unpleasant – and if headphones aren’t much of a way out, about the most radical we can go before 6pm (the cut-off point) is Nancy Sinatra, or some bitchin’ shit like that. Unless I’m alone in the car of course, or doing the occasional half-hour down the gym: that’s how I slipped The Book Of Mormon through, the Song Of The Day compilations that survived Daniel’s destruction of the external HD. But I don’t write in those places. So there’s nothing abrasive. Nothing noisy. Nothing to unsettle. We have more than enough of that already, except of course we don’t. My life doesn’t change much day-to-day, you know? Tiredness is always present. I rarely leave the house, even in my mind. Sometimes think about what it’s like down Woodlands, the Valley, one of those cool semi-legal venues in Brisbane where I fool myself that like-minded souls congregate, even though I know no one has nothing in common with me. The long decline. The slow death. The petty bourgeoisie.
I guess my reality caught up with my fiction. It was bound to happen.
I’ve been meaning to feature this song since formatting is video in Brigette’s excellent list of songs from 2011. That was about a month back. That’s fast for me, these days. Way fast.
I’d been meaning to, since reading Brigette’s description:
I don’t think I’ve ever seen something quite so adorable and crude at the same time. It’s hard not to sing it in public. And the hook doesn’t come in until 1 min 50, and then it never comes back! How great is that? It is truly fearless — a welcomed change from the music of the past year that hedged its bets — that was too polite and too eager for your approval. Follow the example of this song in the New Year. Be fearless and be worthy of everyone’s adoration.
The fact I like the song as much as I hoped I would from reading her words is some considerable fucking bonus. Maybe at some point in the next six months I might get to enjoy its adorable and crude squelch again.
Tomorrow: I find the balls to feature Rasheeda’s petulant and adorable ‘Boss Bitch Back’ from Tamsin’s equally excellent list of fine songs from 2011. I’ll need to find another three-minute window in the tiredness, though.