NERVO AND NICKY MAKE IT FEEL LIKE HOME

Here’s a how to make a music video tutorial. I ❤ these girls so much!

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I FEEL BAD FOR NOT FEELING BAD ON VALENTINE’S DAY

Valentine’s day pisses me off. Not because I’m single, but because I’m expected to be unhappy being single, and then I feel bad for not feeling bad.

I get invited to forced get togethers of depressed single people commiserating, branded as Anti-Valentines day parties, and then I have to come up with excuses to get out of them because I’d rather be doing what I do on every other holiday that doesn’t apply to me. Feeling bad about Valentines Day has become such an expectation, that I can’t even say I want to stay home because everyone will think I’m just saying that because I’m sad, so they push even harder to save me from my supposed misery. I can’t even go to the mall alone, because for some reason the presumed female grief gives guys the predator pass. They get on the streets like sharks feening blood, as if just because it’s February 14th, we’re supposed to be turned on by desperation.

Valentine’s day is the perfect example of consumer culture winning over basic human logic. You don’t see people without kids  going crazy on Mother’s day, so why does everyone feel entitled to celebrate the couples holiday?

Don’t get it twisted though. I’m not a cold-hearted bitch with no capacity for romance. In fact, I’m probably more of a romantic than most because I fantasize (and write) about love. The years that I was in a relationship, I spent weeks coming up with the coolest, most unexpected Vday ideas, but the fact that advertisers force us to not only want, but expect our lovers to beg for reservations, and pay triple for some generic gift is precisely why I hate this day so much. February 14th is everything that’s wrong with modern relationships. It’s the market place taking full advantage of our emotions, and forcing this stupid holiday down our throats, so regardless of relationship status, we all feel pressured to be something we’re not—couples included.

The wrath of Valentine’s day doesn’t stop there, it also imposes an unnecessary toll on new relationships in the grey zone. It becomes a test that people who’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks have to survive. Their status gets measured by their acknowledgment of the day. The natural flow of the relationship gets disrupted by this elephant in the room, and unless the guy’s level of acknowledgment matches the girl’s expectation, the relationship will likely go up in flames.

Ironic isn’t it?

Sex and flowers are way better when they’re unexpected, not when they’re a forced occasion like prom. A healthy relationship is about consistency, not fulfilling a once a year chore. Spontaneity is the spice of life,  and Valentine’s day is an unfair estimate of devotion, especially if the person treats you well the rest of the year. My advice, for all it’s worth, is no matter what your relationship status is, drop the expectation on Valentine’s day because it’s only going to ruin your chances of experiencing true love. Maybe then you’ll be surprised.

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VALENTINE’S DAY FLOWER DELIVERY….

 

EXPRESSING LOVE FOR FRENCH EXPRESS

Last weekend, in typical 4 AM fashion at a warehouse party, I was having a conversation with a guy in a sequined jacket who called himself 2 cent. “No one gives a shit about an $11 album sale anymore. It’s all about the cover charge at the door, and the T-shirts”, he said.

With so much competition, and so many ways to get music for free, artists, especially EDM artists, don’t have the luxury to wait for some big label to turn them into brands. Talent isn’t enough anymore. If you don’t have the social media game down, you’re getting left behind because the kids can’t find you, so the big wigs don’t hear you, and you know what the kids love? Discovering good music for free.

French Express, the self proclaimed protectors of feel good, are my new favorite talent crew, because they do just that. First with Isaac Tichauer’s “Doing What I got”, then Chris Malinchak’s “So Good To Me”, and now with this new track from Moon Boots.

I’m excited to find out who’s next!

THE LA TIMES EDM JOKE… SORRY ARTICLE

My college roommate overdosed on E. She wasn’t at a rave. She was just a party girl at a nightclub, trying to numb the pain of a recent break up.

No one is saying drug abuse isn’t a scary problem that needs to be dealt with, but blaming the EDM scene for a few unfortunate kids, whose extent of drug education was probably nothing more than “just say no”, is grossly uniformed, and sloppy reporting. You’d think investigative journalists at The LA Times would be required to immerse themselves in a culture before writing an article about it.

Last weekend the 3 squares below released an article on the LA Times blog, essentially blaming Insomniac for deaths as a result of ecstasy overdose, and urging cities to rely less on income from raves in order to decrease the likelihood of drug related deaths. By this logic, we should also go back to prohibition, ban guns and outlaw cigarettes.

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This set off a firestorm of backlash from the EDM community.

Dusty LA times completely missed the point of the criticism, and tried to defend its position by siting more detailed death statistics as a result of drug overdose at EDM events, followed by a series of  emotional appeals to make an old idea seem relevant and newsworthy. As unfortunate as those deaths are, abstinence is the same obsolete solution that the conservatives have been using for decades to justify the war on sex, drugs, and now music. Has it helped?

“The War On Drugs Has Failed”, said a 19-member global commission in 2011.  A 2008 study by Harvard economist Jeffrey A. Miron estimated that legalizing drugs would save U.S. taxpayers $76.8 billion a year—the kind of revenue that could make rehab, and mental healthcare free and accessible. Kaskade said it best: “Clearly, if the US Government hasn’t come up with the magic bullet to quell the problem of drugs in this country, it is not reasonable to expect an event promoter to pull this kind of trick out of his hat either. “

Maybe it’s time to come up with better ideas, instead of scapegoating the new kid on the block to beat the same dead horse.

Technological advances in music production, Internet and social media have catapulted EDM into the mainstream, in the same way that the electric guitar, amplifier, microphone, and the 45-rpm record propelled rock and roll in the 50s.  The parallels are uncanny. There were haters then, and there are haters now.

Rong-Gong Lin II, Paul Pringle and Andrew Blankstein’s pathetic attempt at blaming drug deaths on EDM was shortsighted. Dance music isn’t growing because it provides a safe haven for drugs. It’s growing because provides escapism from a world that is increasingly harsher and more judgmental. EDM event organizers are making people happier by bringing fans from all over the world together, and providing a fun community that is full of love and acceptance. Something the LA Times should’ve looked into before pointing fingers at people who are doing more good for our society than harm.

PRETTY MUCH OBSESSD WITH VICEROY

When I first heard Viceroy’s While We’re in Love (Feat. Ghost Beach), I had it on repeat for like a week. Then I discovered his Mixtapes on Soundcloud, then I saw his picture… I mean ladies, if talent isn’t enough, this guy is destined for success! 😉

Austen Afridi, a.k.a Viceroy is originally from the East Coast, but you wouldn’t know it from his refreshing summery sound. He released his Sunburn EP in 2011, and has been staying busy since. His latest, Solé Fixtape Vol. 6 is perfect for everything from pool parties to car rides. He’s worked with amazing artists like Breakbot, YELLE and St. Lucia. If you’ve got your mind right, add him to your list of ones to watch.

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TO MY POINT YESTERDAY… THE VICE GUIDE TO ADULTHOOD | VICE

To my point yesterday, and when I wrote STOP YOUR BITCHING BOYS. IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE CRAZY, YOU’D BE OUT OF BUSINESS. 

LOVE VS. FUCKING

“They say that a life worth living is a life worth sharing. They also say that if you’re an asshole all the time, you’re going to slip on a wad of hair in the shower, hit your head, suffer a contusion, and die. No one will find your corpse until it begins emitting a stench so powerful that it cuts through all the curry and jerk chicken your neighbors are making in your shitty apartment building. In your teens and 20s it’s OK to be annoyingly picky and indecisive (within reason) about finding the “right one” and eliminating people from your uppity little dating pool because they don’t like your favorite brand of deodorant, or because they are Nazis about recycling.  Eventually, if you’re lucky, it will dawn on you: “OHHHHHH! I’m the asshole here! Not that girl who I dumped because she’s allergic to paper!” If someone is nice to you, and your privates find them attractive, love them for as long as you can and as well as you can, and then keep trying for even longer than that because you probably don’t deserve a second chance. Fucking, however, is a completely different thing. Grunting like an animal and ramming your parts into another person’s feel-good cavity/getting rammed in yours is purely recreational, and let’s face it, those hot sluts at the bar aren’t going to be the ones you want to see walk into your room with a stack of DVDS and a Coke Slurpie when you’re home in bed with a fever”

Hallelujah! Someone out there gets it!! It’s like they took my mind, pumped it up, and dick slapped the world with it today.

Enlighten yourself here:

The VICE Guide to Adulthood | VICE.

 

WE’RE ALL A BUNCH OF JADED COWARDS

The idea of being in love and having chemistry with your best friend is inescapably enchanting, yet painfully rare. The Bonnie and Clyde, yin to my yang, us against the world, let’s make a bunch of money, have mind-blowing sex, and not care what anyone thinks because we’re awesome kind of relationship is the ultimate aphrodisiac—At least for me. Somehow in the middle of this chaos we call dating though, we get 25% of the way there, then start over analyzing and freaking out.  I’m blaming dicks and VJs alike here. Case and point:

Boy and girl meet.
Boy and girl flirt.
Boy and girl laugh.
Boy and girl have a lot in common.
Boy and girl kiss.
Boy and girl text every day.
Boy and girl talk on the phone.
Boy and girl start hanging out.
Boy and girl have fun together.
Boy and girl have sex.
One of them wants to keep this going.
The other one freaks out in fear of getting tied down and pulls back.
The unexplained change triggers crazy.
Kaboom!

Here’s the less dramatic version:

Boy and girl meet.
Boy and girl flirt.
Boy and girl laugh.
Boy and girl have a lot in common.
Boy and girl kiss.
Boy and girl go on dates.
Boy and girl have sex.
One of them declares a lack of interest in a relationship.
The other one stays around hoping time will bring them closer and change things.
Boy and girl end up in each other’s rotation for a while.
Boy and girl stay in the grey zone.
The half ass relationship blows up or fizzles out.

In any case, modern day dating has become less about finding love, and more about having control over “The Game”.  The person who avoids “one-itis” like the plague, and stays perpetually less interested will always have the upper hand. Who can blame us? We’ve experienced more heartbreaks than our parents ever did, we know marriage will likely end in divorce, and we don’t need to be in a relationship to have sex.

Don’t hate the player, hate the game. It’s the defense mechanism that keeps us protected—and lonely.

It seems like all those people who picked up a copy of Neil Strauss’s book, read the part about becoming a pick up artist, and didn’t get to the part where his obsession with the game surrounded him with a bunch of miserable manipulative people, and ultimately made him realize that the only way to win the game was to grow up and leave it.  He ended up in a relationship because love conquers all—even the pick up artist. Sadly, Neil and Lisa’s game based foundation wasn’t strong, and they broke up a couple years later.

Yes –the man who wrote the modern day dating manual, has been dating a string of borderline hookers since then.

Our generation is full of cowards. We’d rather hide behind a set of rules written by a few losers running a dead end social experiment, than give love a real shot and god forbid risk having to deal with a heartbreak later. We meet people we are attracted to, and we love spending time with them, but we don’t dare step on the other side of the fence together. We postpone the decision for as long as possible. We keep our walls up, our investment low, and euphemize the whole thing by calling it “staying loose”. Depending on how loose we can stay, we put all of our chances for love in either the friendzone, or the unfulfilling friend with benefit zone, thinking that the day we inevitably get bored with the game, and declare our readiness for a relationship, our soul mate will come riding on a white horse. Ironically, this perfectly timed relationship will probably end due to a lack of “maintaining a relationship” experience, making years of being careful nothing but a fool’s errand.

We can’t schedule love. Trying to control it in fear or missing out, or heartbreak, or trying to time it so it fits into a perfect life plan is a mistake. It will never be perfect, and we’ll never have a guarantee that it’ll be forever, but even if it only lasts a few months, it’ll be worth it because heartbreaks teach us who we are, and experiencing something more than what we’re used to makes us more complete. Because of this, we need to be brave, take risk, and give it every shot we can because there’s really nothing harder or more important to find in life than ❤.