…if it even exists…it doesn’t matter either way…everyone’s obsessed with ideas of keeping it real and fronting originality and artistry…but it’s all part of a method of targeted niche marketing. often intentional, and usually subliminal…the real victims are all of us that buy the hype and swallow the bitter bile of fad-chasing journos, zombie fans, and hopelessly blind, deaf wannabe romantics vying to be the next best thing since kurt cobain (but sure as fuck ain’t). in reality, they’re just a bunch of cunts banging out some preset chords and tutorialized, paint-by-numbers standards.
kissing ass, playing charades, fucking smiley-faces and deleted social media, “big” and “established” motherfuckers (you know who you are) that think they know it all and wanna tell you all how to do it and what to be and how to approach the world as if they somehow aren’t just riding by the tip of their dicks, blowing up the next bubble so they can ride the tide to their next faddy hypetrain to cash-in, all while waving a sweatshop-manufactured flag of cheap-ass, flimsy plastic claiming to represent humanity’s equality and environmental sustainability. broken bottles and mysterious powders, 120dB of ear-shattering schlock, propped up by horseshit gimmicks.
fuck that shit. that’s not real. there won’t be a deal if you mask your true feelings, methods, desires, results. what’s the goal? of course it isn’t about the money, but we sure as fuck can’t live off goodwill and chill vibes, cuz it’s “all about the underground.” no more looking to the past for the answers, because to dwell makes the present AND the future unwell, remember? measure your approach, dare to over-analyze or you might stagger, and the result will be a face plant and a total loss of swagger. there’s gotta be a happy medium, but first we gotta conquer all these new media.
here’s to all ya’ll out there that might be suffering
we don’t keep it proper for nothing