Y’all mind if I get impassioned real quick?
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All the things she said
All the things she said
All the things she said
All the things she said
All the things she said
All the things she said
All the things she said
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This is not enouuuuuughggggghhhh.
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Wake up, put on coffee. Open your laptop. Pick a song from your iTunes library. No, not quite right. Pick another. This song isn’t doing it, either. Put on shuffle. A song you used to listen to on long car rides with your ex plays. It hurts. Why? Your stomach turns over. A relic from the past. You remember everything. It’s even worse because it’s a good song—but the beauty of the art has been stolen, by something, maybe that person you once loved, maybe something greater, but in any case, the original whirl of feelings that once engulfed you aren’t there anymore. Or rather, they are, but they have morphed into something dark, something unrecognizable. The allure is ruined. By something. You’re not sure what. You’re not sure of much of anything these days.
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Is this the feeling of teen angst? Surely. At least, something similar. You think back to the days of listening to nu-metal and emo, Evanescence type shit, Taking Back Sunday type shit, the kind of music that beats the shit out of you, the kind that you listen to somewhat ironically now, secretly enjoying the pangs of genuine nostalgia. To hell with you and all your friends.
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Now, you have found an edit of one of those songs on SoundCloud. A club-type ditty. If you heard it on the dancefloor you’re pretty sure you’d lose your mind. It’s a masterpiece of sound design, a whirlwind of bass and immaculately produced sound ad-libs. It captures the past inside the present—a phenomenon that you need in your life right now.
Stream Air Max ‘97’s t.A.T.u. remix below.