in my neverending quest to seek out and understand the shittiest elements of all cultures, i've accidentally been made aware of a phenomenon of very little importance.
super-slick trance-pop from across the atlantic causes me to imagine ibiza and speed boats and james bond and weird sunglasses and silver shoes and dumb shit like that.
but apparently, it causes its purveyors to fantasize about the american southwest, past, present, or some strange hybrid of the two:
atb - ecstasy
prydz - pjanoo
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ReplyDeleteit has to be the sun, there is no sun over there. They only have guiness. It rains, so they drink and dream of the southwest. Was there not a fucking book about a boy and his little toy indian that walked and talked that they made us read in 3rd grade? But I don't remember that little boy having some indian chick appear, or booty dancing, or booze, or hard a hardcore kick like that yo.
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