I wish I could tell you that, after a long, hard day of staring at the computer doing pointless busywork, that all I wanted to do when I got home was to create music or share ideas via this website but that is not the case. I just want to relax and survive. This is the meaning of wage slavery. You academics out there could discuss how I am renting myself towards the enrichment of others, how I never earn the value I create for my company, but that is besides the point, mere Marxist blah blah blah. The slavery is what I impose on myself. My exhaustion. My unwillingness to pour every moment into plotting my escape.
I don't even come home and dig for exciting new music. Is ground being broken out there? I have no idea! All I know is that song below is beautiful and is all I need. You fuckers out there who think art has to be challenging, contemporary, or futuristic or even a unique twist on the past can all go fuck off. I am a prole and I demand ease!
(NB this entire "essay" is a lie towards justifying this video. no it is not. or some of it. enjoy.)
(btw wtf is up with the scantily-clad dancers? it's like they had to include them because it is a house music video. i can't imagine a song that makes me think about fucking less than this one except for any song having to do with death, genocide, or baseball)