I'm much too old for that page, thank god. Although the t-shirt I am wearing at this instant does have vintage bicycle-themed art on it.
How do you get a chain-ring tattoo on that side?
Look at all the pictures of goofy-looking white people!
Christ I feel old. Even my love for selvedge denim--an hipster preciosity if ever there was--is no match for such.
I wonder if my children would be amused.
Who wouldn't be amused by the sight of Flip in selvedge denim?
My wife has been telling me I should get a hipster bun. Or a haircut.
Weirdly, most of the official website seems to be from 2007 and earlier, which might be why some of them seemed like people I used to know. It might just be that I don't get out much anymore, too.
Speaking of dated, I just watched a Peckinpah movie which, despite good cinematography and editing, is hard to take seriously. Because of feminism. I watched it twice because I am to discuss it with a friend. It's funny, I thought I had seen it a long time ago as well, but can't quite place when that was.
7 -- I checked mine. Son and his gf well amused. Daughter not yet heard from, but amusement pretty much assured.
I got to Skramz Revivalist before I realized he was just making stuff up. Skramz can't be a thing. Next they're going to talk about the Bloxtor Neoboppers, identifiable by their tasseled muu muus.
You can tell a real floqcore norbat by their denim hairpiece.
I am relieved to not fit any of these.
I am distressed at my inability to tell when the descriptions cross the line from scenes that actually exist to those that the authors made up.
Who wouldn't be amused by the sight of Flip in selvedge denim?
Hater of player.
You have to admit that Chunkcore Poser looks like Justin Bieber.
And I gather "piece" is now the word for tattoo.
"What, exactly, is the steez of skramz? Well, DIY yourself up a chair and put your butt in it, 'cause it's go time for learnin'. In short: Screamo is chockablock with bugaboo. The terror of speed, the weight of distortion and the dread of dissonance converge into a minute-long fit of skinny-guy violence. Or it can be sad and beautiful like a pretty twee girl playing a ukulele, maybe? Other times it can be technical and proggy enough for your guildmate's uncle (Hi, Dad!). Mostly, they're manic blurs so terse you cross your fingers in the hope that Last.fm can scrobble them. Just straight-up solid waveform bricks of kids gettin' upset.
"To make a comparison to other genres: Screamo is more syncopated than hardcore while lacking a tough-guy mentality or the posi taint of Krishna consciousness; slower than grindcore and with a feminist bent; and with fewer pissypant conniptions and rawer nerves than emo. But the true essence of screamo is in the name. These castrati of crust, these banshees of basement shows, they communicate in high-pitched yelps, shrieks and caterwauls. The logical conclusion was reached by ...Of Death, but bear in mind that shit's nigh-unlistenable even to fanatics.
"The lyrical content of any given screamo song can run the gamut from bafflingly amusing (Jeromes Dream) to Nation of Ulysses-inspired pseudo-politics (Orchid) to nauseatingly earnest (The Assistant) to my-God-were-you-homeschooled? (Reversal of Man). But you'd never know without reading the lyrics sheet: Skramz vocals be impenetrable. Songs could be about a friend dying or human rights violations or "the scene" being shitty or bad stuff happening and feeling bad about it or the world just being so darn, ugh, you know? They could even just be Simpsons quotes and refrigerator poetry.
"There are certainties, though. Context is key, and authorial intent is alive and well in screamo, as most songs have their own liner notes, and you'll definitely need them to grasp the neo-Marxist interdisciplinary social theories, Formalistic interpretations and critiques of the decadence of the vicious meat market of sexual intent in punk rock being dropped on your head. These dudes know how to fuckin' party!"