Digital Alterity

I’m often possessed by an urge to go dancing. There. Now, I’ve outed myself. I can’t listen to anything by Crüxshadows, Moby, or The Smiths without wishing for a club where they played nothing but such music all night long. I dream of dancing by myself out there on the darkened dance floor like some kind of drunken, gleeful fool with all of the glee and none of the drunkenness.

I want to connect with the music in a physical way. I love listening to music with my eyes closed, so that I can focus every bit of my attention on each of the layers in the sound. I love pondering the lyrics in a way that leaves my mind’s eye free to conjure up images that synthesize into a pure and wonderful gestalt. The only way I can imagine making this any better is to allow my body to move with that imagination, to elevate the sublime experience into an even higher and more vital experience.

I never picture myself dancing with anyone else. I want to dance with the music itself. Catholics have Communion. Muslims have their daily prayers. This would be my communion with something larger than myself, my own private altar call, my chance to be completely surrounded and enveloped by the music that connects with me with a larger humanity, a kinetic koan pointing toward a higher, more vital truth than language could ever express.

I wouldn’t care that I’m fat. I wouldn’t care about the gender constraints that say that straight men aren’t allowed to enjoy dancing. I wouldn’t care whether I looked silly because I have no idea how I’m supposed to dance. I would dance my heart out and not care who knew it.

And on that day, I would revolutionize the fucking world.

1. “Happy Birthday” by The Crüxshadows
2. “Big A, Little A” by Crass
3. “Shine” by Rollins Band

If you’re not sufficiently motivated after listening to all three of those songs in a row, check your effing pulse. You’re probably already dead.

While sitting in my office just now, I heard Allyson start whistling in the shower. Now this isn’t really an uncommon occurrence. Allyson whistles or otherwise makes noise when things get too quiet. What is somewhat funny is the song she started whistling.

She started whistling “Take ‘Em All”, an oi song by Cock Sparrer.

Take ‘em all…Take ‘em all…
Put ‘em up against the wall and shoot ‘em.
Short and tall, watch ‘em fall.
C’mon, boys, take ‘em all.

How did I end up in a life this perfect?

I often sing random nonsensical songs while walking around the house. These songs usually either involve some ribald combination of my penis, a Mexican guy named Gomez, Jesus, and whores. Basically, there are only one or two different tunes to these songs, but the lyrics change on an hourly basis and never make sense. Sometimes the songs are even en español.

For the past two days, I have the phrase “We play fast, effective  ping pong,” to a chanting tune that often shows up in the songs.

I unfortunately have not been able to work this into a song yet.

I’ve recently taken up running, and since Allyson isn’t really up for running directly after work, I’m doing my running alone and at my own pace. The solitude has encouraged me to take my iPod with me on most runs, and I’m quickly discovering that my Mix List isn’t always the most appropriate choice for running.

Nearly anything by Morrissey, The Cure, The Mountain Goats, and The Smiths will make me pay more attention to the music than my run, and I can see the difference in my speed. In contrast, punk and hardcore tends to make me run too fast. Unless I’m trying to do some speed work, Minor Threat is a major no-no.

Thus far, I’ve had the best success with electronic music. I find that most anything by The Cruxshadows and MC Plus+ can really get me going for exercise, and while I haven’t tried it during my recent return to running, I used to really enjoy listening to Rollins Band during my high school workouts. Trance mixes with the same BPM make sure that my pace stays nice and even.

While listening to music doesn’t seem to affect my overall performance, it certainly helps my perception of how hard or easy a run is. If I have my iPod, I don’t spend nearly as much time watching the minutes tick by on my watch, and I actually approach a state that might be regarded as “having fun”. Which is actually pretty sick when you consider the stress I’m putting on my typically sedentary/comatose body.

Lastest Workout Soundtracks

• 2006-09-02: Wishfire by The Crüxshadows
• 2006-09-04: “So Much Drama in the PhD” by Monzy and Algorhythms by MC Plus+
• 2006-09-06: I forgot my iPod at the office, and the run soundly kicked my ass.
• 2006-09-08: Brainstorm by John B

Technorati Tags: Music, Running

Some time ago, I was possessed by an urge to make a music compilation that would tell the story of my life. I don’t just mean a bunch of my favorites songs—though admittedly some of these songs are my very favorites. No, I wanted to construct a mix of songs that told a story through their lyrics and their mood. This is what I came up with, the story of Rusty haskell.

1. “The Legend of Zelda” by Video Game Pianist
2. “Westbound Sign” by Green Day
3. “Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?” by Moby
4. “86″ by Green Day
5. “I Know You” by Henry Rollins
6. “Big A, Little A” by Crass
7. “Out of Step (With The World)” by Minor Threat
8. “Freak Scene” by Dinosaur Jr.
9. “The World Has Turned and Left Me Here” by Weezer
10. “Private Ale” by Green Day
11. “Crestfallen” by Smashing Pumpkins
12. “About A Girl” by Nirvana
13. “I Don’t Think So” by Dinosaur Jr.
14. “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now” by The Smiths
15. “Forget” by Subhumans
16. “Fake A Smile” by Ditch Witch
17. “This Is A Lie” by The Cure
18. “When I Grow Up” by Garbage
19. “28″ by Rusty Haskell
20. “I Like You” by Morrissey
21. “Trust” by The Cure
22. “Boys Don’t Cry” by The Cure
23. “Present Tense” by Pearl Jam
24. “Friday I’m In Love” by The Cure
25. “Slipping Away” by Moby
26. “Mint Car” by The Cure
27. “This Year” by The Mountain Goats
28. “Do Your Best and Don’t Worry” by Morrissey
29. “We Are All Made of Stars” by Moby

Unfortunately the compilation is one hour and fifty-one minutes long, so it won’t fit on a single CD. But that seems fitting when I consider all the places I’ve been in twenty-seven years.

Technorati Tags: Music, Life

I’ve been listening to a fair amount of electronic music this week owing to the John B CD I got from Amazon and my temporary obsession with all things Moby. I’ve noticed that electronic music helps to increase my productivity by a substantial margin. I find it much easier to focus on my work while listening. The high BPM keeps me in a more bouncy mood than I typically find myself in while working for the man, and it helps to induce a trance like state of concentration owing to a general rather than specific focus on the music. The seamless fades between songs and regular repeating beats trick my mind into sticking with one task instead of jumping to a new topic. My head just plain feels clearer, and it’s even easier to focus on nothing at all if I choose to since I can easily focus on the aurally complex music and many levels of sound.

It’s not all perception either. My volume of ideas jotting on my Hipster PDA has spiked. I’ve even found that listening to electronic music while assembling furniture in the living room on the digital cable caused the work to go much faster than without and with less of a perception of stress on my part. My stress level in general has gone way down even from the relatively stressless state I’ve found myself in since implementing GTD. The relatively fast pace of the music helps keep my chronically depressed mood a lot more level. When I’m frustrated, I have a focus point to center myself on. In that regard, it’s rather like counting the breath during sitting meditation.

Looking for some great examples of tunes so you can try it yourself? Older Moby is great for this. Newer Moby is more lyrical and doesn’t cause me to phase into that programmer’s trance as readily. John B’s Brainstorm is also excellent with truly seamless transitions between songs. In this regard, continuous mix CDs or commercial-free Internet radio are beneficial as well. Transitions are often taken by your working brain as an opportunity for disruption and distraction. Video game soundtracks are another great option. I’m referring specifically to electronic-sounding soundtracks with relatively high BPM like Castlevania. Lower BPM soundtracks like the Final Fantasy piano collections causes increased focus for me but with much less pace.

Technorati Tags: Music, Productivity, Moby, Electronic Music, Techno

Should I be ashamed to admit that I want to be like Moby?

I’m at a loss to think of things I don’t like about Moby. He looks geeky but still exudes a palpable aura of coolness. Moby makes killer electronic music that makes me want to dance. Moby is a vegetarian—something that it’s in my five-year dietary plan (though I have no desire to go the full vegan route). Moby is the co-owner of Teany, a little tea shop in New York that serves delicious vegetarian food. When not touring, Moby lives on the east side of NYC, smack dab in the middle of a large international city.

Maybe I should write Moby a letter asking for a Moby Queer-Eye-inspired makeover. I wonder if he does house calls.

Technorati Tags: Music, Moby, Adoration

I have a line of “Superfreak” by Rick James stuck in my head. The only problem is that the line stuck in my head isn’t actually part of the song. To the tune of the line:

“That girl is pretty kinky.
The girl’s a super freak!”

I have the line:

“That girl’s like Luther Vandross.
The girl’s a super freak!”

I’m not sure what this says about me. Or Luther Vandross for that matter.

There are a lot of bad Christmas songs because, honestly, there’s no shortage of shallow pop stars to illegitimately father the sad little bastards. Washed up? Put out a Christmas tune. Not enough mainstream appeal? Put out a whole Christmas album. Every holiday season, as I wander about in the same stores that I usually shop in, I find myself pondering which of the songs is the worst Christmas song ever, and this year, I’ve isolated it.

“Wonderful Christmastime” by Paul McCartney is the worst Christmas song ever. I’m not sure why it gets played at all because I don’t think anyone could look me in the face and honestly tell me that this song is actually good. It reminds me of those skinny eighties ties—too stark and lacking in any real depth. I’m absolutely convinced that everyone was sitting around in the studio trying desperately to write another song. Suddenly, Paul started hitting random chords on his synthesizer at one-second intervals, and someone yelled out, “That’s it! That’s golden! Can you write some trite and meaningless lyrics about Christmas to go with that?!”

The children sing their song.
Ding dong, ding dong,
Ding dong, ding ohhhhhhhh…
Ohhhhhhh…

I’m convinced that they play this song over the loudspeakers in Hell. This song is my nemesis.