you're lovely, but you've got LOTS of problems.

just what i fucking get for trying to bond with a cube.

late 2005, driving under the influence, scaring the shit out of one of my cube friends as i pull signature curb-darts, late-brakes, and leadFOOTs...
Kasai: (slurred) yo are you into Death From Above 1979 at all?
Kasai's Cube Friend: (stammering) no dude, never heard of them. any good?
Kasai: oh shit man! they fucken rock cock! they met in prison man! (near miss on the rear end accident tip) they have this song called "Dead Womb," and the chorus goes, "we're looking for wives so tired of sluts comin to us in the clubs with their cocaine" (smiling, awaiting approval of this epic lyric).

splintering silence. don't worry, the cig run was vehicular manslaughter-free.

oh my gosh, cocaine?! that totally flies in the face of my virginal, sheltered, exurbian sensibilities. oh, well i never. what an offensive song?! my gosh! and that name!? DEATH-FROM-A-BOVE?!? my heavens!

fucking nerds. can't live with 'em, can't round them up and place 'em in internment camps.

i don't remember exactly when it was, but the first time i heard Death From Above 1979, it was kinda like the Second Great Awakening (with the first being that starstruck night in the basement, blowing my first thrill through a modified pencap, fretting over pulling a Len Bias. look it up).

yes! an awakening so thorough that it drove me to buy a bass and distortion pedal on xmas eve '05 (i didn't do xmas shopping that year for anyone). so thorough was the need to get in on this racket. i even bought the pink, rubber graphic tee off the website. fucking 30 bucks with shipping. but it was fresh to def who gives a fuck? at least it was up until i got motor oil all over it in a wal-mart parking lot during a late night oil re-up. only jerks buy expensive t-shirts.

i totally bought into what these cats were sellin. the "how they met" gimmicks (jail, gay bar, pirate ship, hot air balloon race, etc., etc.). the James Murphy, "if we had the resources we'd fly a plane into his head" band-name-lawsuit drama. the copious remixes of romantic rights (possibly the best song of the 21st century). the love-songs-on-bad-meth-vibe of their lyrics.

it seemed like every week i heard or read something about these beasts that made me sweat them ans their music even harder. and the combination of hearing the aforementioned "Dead Womb's" heartfelt chorus and seeing them on Conan (with Max Weinberg on drums at the end) really pushed things over the edge.

so of course i was tres heartbroken when they announced the surprisingly inevitable breakup. but it's ok. with their frenetic, massive sound and feel, they awakened a musical spirit in me that should've been rousted about years ago. fucking hated sports in high school. such a waste of time.

come on girls i know you know what you want!

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