To very quickly recap: this "holiday" was made up by Penn State students so that they could drink all day through a Saturday despite not being able to drink all day through the actual day of St. Patrick's Day. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason I found myself in State College, PA this weekend.
It is currently 11PM. I'm putting off work, and I'm trying to piece together all of the events of yesterday. I do remember that at some point, I was totally all about trying to blog about the experiences of this weekend, but, as we're a music blog (sorta), it kind of has to be about the music, right? So, I'm going to try and recreate all of my thought processes through the past couple of days, loosely inspired by that one part of Klosterman IV where he spends 24 hours watching VH1 Classic:
7:30 PM, Friday: My friend Pat and I get picked up in Philadelphia by his little brother. At some point, he tries to creep both of us out by blaring "Hunter" by Björk. He's totally barking up the wrong tree: that song is freaking awesome. This will be the creative high-point of the weekend.
9:00 PM, Friday: Pat and I have now left his house and are speeding towards State College. These car rides are usually pretty interesting, because both of us love singing (occasionally screaming) along, but neither of us has a particularly awesome voice. We also have overlapping, occasionally really shitty taste. As a result, this car ride starts with a bit of Man Man, and devolves into us both yelling Limp Bizkit's cover of "Faith."
I'll be completely honest: I have no idea why anyone was really into Limp Bizkit. Fred Durst was a terrible lyricist (and judging from Kristina's video post from her last, not that awesome of a guitar player either), and the music was terrible rap-metal-grunge that all sounded literally exactly the same. In addition, I was hardly an angsty 11-year-old; in fact, I loved my life, and I'm sure most of the kids who bought their albums probably did too.
But, um, four platinum albums and 50 million copies worldwide can't be wrong, right? It would have been at least two (probably three) more, but, umm, my mommy wouldn't let me get CDs with Parental Advisory stickers, and if you've ever heard Limp Bizkit, you'd know that edited versions were far from worth it.
(Sidenote: I may write about bands with a lot of sales that confuse me for my next entry.)
Anyway, back to us.
We make it to State College by 11:15, and get into a friend's apartment to hear "Stronger" by Kanye West playing. This is far from the last time I'm going to hear this song this weekend.
12:20 AM, Saturday: At some food place in State College, an incredibly drunk girl starts yelling at her friend regarding the song playing over the loudspeaker. "NO, IDIOT, IT'S SGT. PEPPER! SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY CLUB BAND!" This isn't technically right, but the rate that the next 36 hours goes, I should have claimed this girl for marriage.
Pat has been sarcastically but excitedly talking about the amount of "bro-ing out" he's gonna get to see/do this weekend. He doesn't realize just how right he is.
10 AM, Saturday: People are starting to drink, and who am I to argue with progress? When in Rome, right? The unofficial drinking anthem of PSU, "I'm Shipping Up to Boston" by the Dropkick Murphys comes on, which is a shame, because the Dropkick Murphys are like the third-best Irish punk band I can think of at the moment. Even an old Against Me! song would be awesome.
Around 10:10 AM, Saturday Someone suggests one of those Lonely Island songs (i.e. "Dick in a Box," "Jizz in My Pants," the Natalie Portman rap from SNL). We then listen to all of them. This is a clear mistake, as they become a recurring soundtrack for the day, and seem to follow us around. I'm not gonna mention it again, but in all seriousness, I heard "Like a Boss" maybe 25 times. It's never a good sign when "IT'S PORTMAN, MUTHAFUCKA, I DRINK 'TIL I'M SICK!" becomes a battlecry.
10:25 AM, Saturday: Looking through the apartment's iPod, I make my first serious choice of the day: “Kids” by MGMT. It lasts 25 seconds before someone changes it. Bros, 1, hipsters, 0.
11:05 AM, Saturday: Shipping Up to Boston, #3. People can't really love this song. It's not like they relate to it, cause this is State College, PA. Alas, neither Flogging Molly, nor the remainder of The Departed comes on afterwards.
11:25 AM, Saturday: A huge victory: I find that when this group of friends gets together, we usually listen to the same couple of songs, but one of them of late has been "The W.A.N.D." by the Flaming Lips. I have a firm belief that I can listen to that song all day and not get tired of it (hence, it being my phone's ringtone). Apparently, we're gonna try to prove this hypothesis. The W.A.N.D., take one.
Around noon, Saturday: A disturbing trend: It appears that upon admission to Penn State University, everyone is given at least three Lil Wayne albums or mixtapes. This is absolutely everywhere, and I feel like I've heard at least three Weezy songs already. Even more distressing, due to the amount of this mystery punch, I think I'm starting to get it. A Milli, A Milli, A Milli, A Mill A Mill A Mill STOP IT.
12:45 PM, Saturday: Someone's turned on R. Kelly's "Ignition (Remix)." Who has the authority to say that that song is good, but "Real Talk" is ridiculous?
Did she say there were other guys there? Were there other guys there?
I stand corrected. "Real Talk" is ridiculous.
3:00 PM, Saturday: The W.A.N.D. is still golden. I'm still really intoxicated. Take four. I'm not kidding.
4:45 PM, Saturday: If I hear "Love Lockdown" one more time, I'm throwing this beer through the window.
5:35 PM, Saturday: My bluff is called. I realize I'm not in a state to throw anything other than my breakfast from my stomach, so I accept my 808s with an added sense of heartbreak at not being able to prevent this song.
Around 7:30 PM, Saturday: Our host is taking a nap. He is a genius. I think I'm listening to Kings of Leon in this place. With the exception of one album, I don't think I've ever felt more neutrally about a band in my life than I feel about Kings of Leon. I marvel at this while throwing a ping-pong ball into a red Solo cup.
9:00 PM or so, Saturday: A breakthrough! I finally get my iPod on, and try and play something good for parties, an album by the White Rabbits... and it seems to be working! This album has been on for like 20 minutes, and nothing's happened. Bros 12, hipsters 2.
Smaller breakthrough: I think that I'm sobering up?
Wrong. I have no real grasp of the Madden game that I'm watching on this TV.
Less than sixty seconds later: Someone in the apartment turns it off in favor of Eve 6. For like 35 minutes. Did Eve 6 have more than two songs? Or am I hearing the same thing over and over again?
9:45 PM, Saturday: The W.A.N.D. is the most perfect song ever written. This isn't right, and I know it, but still. You've got that This might be time number eight or nine. Unfortunately, we leave to find another party.
10:10 PM, Saturday: This party has to be sponsored by Lil' Jon. There's no other reason why he's been screaming in my ear for twenty minutes. Everyone loves this. I think it's made me lucid, and angry. I have to be done for the night, right?
11 PM, Saturday: Back to the Eve 6 apartment. Given the chance to prove myself again with my iPod, a Kanye West song from his first album comes on. Kanye used to be so good. *Sigh* Why did he start trying to sing? Who invented Auto-Tune, anyway? T-Pain owes that guy a car. Nodded approval from the Penn State crowd. Tread carefully, Jim.
The W.A.N.D., again. Jim's got the power now, motherfuckers, it's where it belongs. I've got that RIGHTRIGHTRIGHTRIGHTRIGHTRIGHT...
Sorry, but that song is still really great, even this late in the day.
After a Jay-Z song from The Blueprint, I give up with some semblance of dignity.
12:35 AM, Sunday: I've said before that in order to be tolerant of Lil Wayne, I'd need to be really messed up, or actually be Lil Wayne.
Epiphany: I might be Lil Wayne.
Around 1 AM, Sunday: ThistasteslikeKoolAid! There'snowaythere'salcoholinthis! I'mhavingwaywaymore!
Somebody's turned on Stadium Arcadium. This album isn't good. Double albums are pretty stupid. Why is this on? You couldn't find another Chili Peppers...
OH MY GOD, READYMADE. THIS SONG IS GREAT. NEVER TURN THIS OFF.
Obviously, there are lapses, but that's simply going to be chalked up to gaps in my memory. Enclosed are some of the songs mentioned (apologies for the edited version of the Kanye song), and, well, my favorite thing in the world, still:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVPCz0W7Rm0&feature=related
Love,
Jim
P.S. The people in the chatterbox are finding new and interesting ways to be gross. I definitely laughed for about five minutes at the "vagina walrus" comment. Keep up the incredible work.
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