Studying in Chile has made me realize that technology can really blow sometimes. For example, the worst invention known to man happens to be cellphones with external speakers. In the olden days, you had to carry your silver boom box on your shoulder through the streets, your crew in toe adorned in Adidas and jean jackets. However all you need now is a mullet and a cute little Nokia cellphone to impose your favorite jams on everyone around you. You can play reggeaton all the time: on overnight bus rides, in your elementary school, in the halls of the university, in line for empanadas, or in the bathroom stall to hide crude noises.
Sometimes I feel like that scene from Kill Bill Vol. 2 when Beatrix Kiddo wakes up punching the cement wall to the beat of her attempts at slamming her fist through wooden slabs under the apprenticeship of Pai Mae. Except the beat in my head doesn't vary, it is the beat of reggeaton and it is the heartbeat of this continent.
To amuze myself I listened regularly to WRMC during the Vermont school year. Now, my iTunes library is my only escape and I can't get Black Kids out of my head.
Like Vampire Weekend, Black Kids gained a following and critical acclaim this year without the support of a full length album. With only their EP, The Wizard of Ahhhhs, the band from Jacksonville, Florida are headlining a tour through Europe this summer. Their first LP comes out July 7 and is slated to kick your ass.
No comments:
Post a Comment