And trust me when I say, this song was even better in concert.
(Source: Spotify)
| person: | so what music are you into? |
| me: | are you sure you're ready for this conversation? |
DISCLAIMER: Stop now if you have a substancial, irrational, mind boggling love for the band Daughtry. This post is most definitely not for you.
I fully support the my previous remarks about the band Daughtry. I am a firm believer that if Chris Daughtry and his band are located anywhere on someone’s “favorite” list, serious action should be taken. I bold the word serious because a shiny headed man with an array of facial hair stylings combined smudged eyeliner is no laughing matter. I think there is also something to be said about the name of the band. We can all agree that if we played in a band named solely after a certain, Afliction wearing member we would all be a wee bit peeved. N’Sync (moment of silence) was not named Timberlake, but I digress. PS. Cute Jazz Hands Bro.

On this topic, with the complete and utter disregard of the obvious musical stylings of a certain Rebecca Black, there are a two other deal breakers I feel the need to address at this time:
TYGA: While I appreciate a good beat or two, saying the same word consistently does not a sick ass song make. Yes, Tyga I am talking about you. Whilst “Rack City” is catchier than mono at a college house party, I would not prefer 10’s, 10’s or 20’s anywhere but in my bank account, thank you. If Tyga’s impropperly spelled name is thrown into a “favorite” conversation my sole advice is to pop, lock and drop it out of there, immediately.
ENYA. That is all I have to say about that. While I am perfectly okay with the occasional “Only Time” listen, in an instance of an individual picking favorites, openly admitting Enya, tisk-tisk. When someone mentions Enya, you run. WARNING: Enya enthusiasts are a sensitive breed, in many Enya-induced situations, a brisk skip would be more appropriate. Perhaps, if Enya is indeed playing at the time of your uncomfortable new discovery, sway yourself out of sight as Enya enthusiasts tend to sing her songs with arms wide, heads back and eyes closed. Beware though, her tranquil harmonies tend lull the average person to sleep, however an Enya-ite will only become intensely rejuvenated by her “sick” beats.
Consider this post fair warning.
She said: “Hello Mister, Pleased to meet you.”
Fleetwood Mac.
Never Going Back Again.
Amazing.
It’s no secret that I’m overly obsessed with music. 90’s music is generally pretty bitchin’, so here are a few of the goodies. You can thank me later…
It’s later and You’re Welcome.