The Song to Self-Improvement

I’m sure many of you have heard “Hook Me Up” by The Veronicas. My boyfriend is the reason why I enjoy their music and because of him, I have the inspiration to start a new chapter in my life and you guys have a new post full of sarcasm and unbridled joy to make your day. Oh, yes, my boyfriend listens to The Veronicas. No, he doesn’t hide that fact. And yes, he listens to Abba, as well. Sigh. People are so picky about men these days…

The meaning of this song can be debated as you wish, but I think this is one of the few songs off the album that isn’t brimming with sexual energy. Although, it can be argued that the music video contains what the lyrics are lacking.

Now, mind you, the first verse is really the only important one to this post, which is about starting over at a point in life when people, possessions, and lifestyle become tiresome and lack the true representation of the person.

I reached this point roughly one week and four days ago. During the past week, I’ve essentially felt like the first verse of the song:

“I’m tired of my life.
I feel so in between.
I’m sick of all my friends.
Girls can be so mean.
I feeling like throwing out
everything I wear.
Starting over new
‘cause I’m not even there.”

Music of the Industrial Variety

I am obsessed with "Dream Here (With Me)" by Oomph! right now. I love imagining a collection of my fashion and surrealism photos playing in a slideshow to this song. I adore Oomph! I decided I would take German this fall semester in college just because I love the way the lead singer, Dero, makes it sound. German bands are quite entertaining when you can’t understand a word they’re saying. I also love his casual style, sans piercings.

Do you guys have a song stuck in your head right now?

Music of the Indie Variety

I'd like for you to listen to the following song called "Le Disko" by Shiny Toy Guns.

The story behind this song’s discovery:

I used to work in the central library in my city where there was this one girl who had the oddest personality, but overall was very kind to me and my n00b self. Let’s call her Lizzie. Lizzie was into roller derby, the macabre, and all sorts of odd bands I had never heard of. Lizzie, my friends, was my first encounter with the hipster kind. One day while we were working diligently, as all librarians do when no one is there to watch them, Lizzie popped in a CD (yes, a CD, because we the librarians prefer vintage to iPods) which played the downright oddest songs I’d ever heard. And thanks to Lizzie, I now have one weird song I can power walk to and dance to when I’m feeling down. Ah, girl power at its strangest…