Watch out, hipsters. You aren't the only ones with an underground, ultra-indie BlogSpot anymore. You are, however, still considerably smellier than I. With that said, however, I can't possibly succeed in this "blogosphere" without coming to terms with the ultimate, and unfortunate, reality that I am, in fact, a cliche. That's right, hipster guys and gals. I've almost attained the same level of "non-conformist conformity" that you all pride yourselves for exuding. Between this new blog 'o mine and all of my newly discovered favorite indie acts I might as well quit my day job now, and move on up to Williamsburg where I belong, right? Well, not really. I don't think Baby Gap sells tapered jeans in my size range, and I certainly don't own enough high-end boutique/vagrant wear to fit the hipster mold. No worries, though. From the looks of it, there's still a plethora of uber-cool cats in danerously tight jeans to keep the super-indie and underground hipster infrastructure functioning without too much disturbance. That is, of course, unless Hot Chip's tour bus bursts into flames, or Pitchfork encounters technical difficulties that even the most accomplished of lo-fi synth experts cannot solve. God help us in such an event, as the gates of hell will undoubtedly open, and we will all be doomed to a land of hellish proportions for all of eternity.
No comments:
Post a Comment