Prompt: "A song that's so much better than 'Bohemian Rhapsody' that it honestly makes 'Bohemian Rhapsody' sound like the Mister Softee jingle"
Selected by Joe
"Kling Klang 3"
Xiu Xiu
Kling Klang, 2015
First: relax. It's fun to dislike something for no other reason that you just don't like it, assuming that dislike stays at home and curdles into somewhat of an ironic joke. I don't like Queen and I think they suck. "Bohemian Rhapsody" is their most famous song and it's, in my non-humble opinion, the worst song of all time. All offense intended toward those who are spending their day today defending Queen: you are wrong, and it's just depressing to see how wrong you are.
Now let's talk about the art exhibition We The People, created by artist Danh Vo. In 2014, Vo had the Statue of Liberty recreated, using the same copper and the same method. Like the original sculptor Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, it was fashioned first into 250 individual pieces. Unlike Bartholdi, Vo instead kept those 250 huge pieces of metal unassembled. He instead scattered them around Brooklyn. (The metaphor perhaps speaks for itself.)
One of those pieces ended up in Brooklyn Bridge Park. In 2015, freaky drone musician Xiu Xiu taped 999 pink vibrators to that sculpture, and made an album out of it.
In today's song choice, "Kling Klang 3," we get to hear those vibrators and the juxtaposition of bumblee-like buzzing and hollow metal bong-ing that the dildo/copper combo creates. It's stupid and I hate it. "Kling Klang 3" is still so much better than "Bohemian Rhapsody" that honestly it makes me want to cry in relief.
The worst shit I ever took occurred on August 10, 2016. We were in Wildwood, NJ, me and Pam and the K*** fam for the annual family vacation. The previous night, the whole lot of us had taken a trip to down to the Crest and put to the test a restaurant's offer of all-you-can-eat crabs. We had all the time in the world (pre-children), and stomachs stretched from a summer of drinking beer. I gotta imagine that we put away ten dozen crabs between eight or so of us. This was the night that Pappy was trying to prove his Maryland bona fides by claiming that the size of the crabs made them "illegals," and he got so angry that he lost his high school graduation ring through the space in the boards of the dock that we were dining on.
At least eighteen crabs—and if you've ever eaten crabs, you know that they are disgusting, crab-shit-filled shells with the most delicious, gross-looking blobs of meat you'll ever eat—plus I'm sure a dozen of whatever light beer was the cheapest combined into a terrible tummy ache the next morning. I risked a sojourn at the beach anyway. Didn't last more than 30 minutes, and at that point my stomach cramps were so bad that I couldn't make it back to the house. So I had to use the steamy, rancid, fly-ridden holes in the sand they call public toilets at the North Wildwood beach, and just about basically died. It wasn't even poop; it was more like my body was one long thin tube and every crab that I had eaten the night before had made the trip through that tube untouched and undigested and just came out the other end.
In today's song choice, "Kling Klang 3," we get to hear those vibrators and the juxtaposition of bumblee-like buzzing and hollow metal bong-ing that the dildo/copper combo creates. It's stupid and I hate it. "Kling Klang 3" is still so much better than "Bohemian Rhapsody" that honestly it makes me want to cry in relief.
The worst shit I ever took occurred on August 10, 2016. We were in Wildwood, NJ, me and Pam and the K*** fam for the annual family vacation. The previous night, the whole lot of us had taken a trip to down to the Crest and put to the test a restaurant's offer of all-you-can-eat crabs. We had all the time in the world (pre-children), and stomachs stretched from a summer of drinking beer. I gotta imagine that we put away ten dozen crabs between eight or so of us. This was the night that Pappy was trying to prove his Maryland bona fides by claiming that the size of the crabs made them "illegals," and he got so angry that he lost his high school graduation ring through the space in the boards of the dock that we were dining on.
At least eighteen crabs—and if you've ever eaten crabs, you know that they are disgusting, crab-shit-filled shells with the most delicious, gross-looking blobs of meat you'll ever eat—plus I'm sure a dozen of whatever light beer was the cheapest combined into a terrible tummy ache the next morning. I risked a sojourn at the beach anyway. Didn't last more than 30 minutes, and at that point my stomach cramps were so bad that I couldn't make it back to the house. So I had to use the steamy, rancid, fly-ridden holes in the sand they call public toilets at the North Wildwood beach, and just about basically died. It wasn't even poop; it was more like my body was one long thin tube and every crab that I had eaten the night before had made the trip through that tube untouched and undigested and just came out the other end.
And I'm telling you now that if Xiu Xiu happened to be in the next stall, and they heard (or, more likely, smelled) the atrocity that was happening on the other side of the plastic partition, and they whipped out their recording device and were able to capture, in full audio glory, one of the lowest moments of my physical existence, then I'm telling you right now, the resulting "song" would be a thousand times better than "Bohemian Rhapsody." No, a million.
I am done explaining myself and will be taking no further questions.
I am done explaining myself and will be taking no further questions.
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