April 26, 2010

Chris Stringer's Eternal Mixtape

Okay, this is a bit long. Partly because out of the thousands of songs that mean stuff to me, I’ve picked the ones with the most interesting stories – well, I think so anyway. Some of them are funny; some of them broke my heart to tell. But these are the songs I carefully chose to map some really important times in my life – be that a life changing experience, or a time where everything was right. I’m not so good with dates, but I’ve put these as chronologically to my life as I can recall. You can download it here.

I hope you enjoy.

Also, Mum, if you read this… I’m sorry. But I’m sure you already knew.

The B-52s – Love Shack

I think this may be the first song I loved. To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t remember. But it came out in 1989, and I was around 1 by then, and my mum says that I loved it. She says that when I was a baby I loved it, and I used to dance to it all the time. She tells me EVERY time it comes on. I still think it’s a rad song, but it just makes me happy to think my mum will think of me every time she hears that song, and not the 1994 Flintstones movie.

Tracy Chapman – Baby Can I Hold You?

My parents split when I was young. Before my father moved away, he lived in a house just round the corner from ours, and my sister and I would stay there sometimes. It’s not until writing this that I’ve realised that he was only renting a room, rather than a flat or house; and it’s not until this age and this realisation that I understand how crushing that must have been for him. I remember once, he put this song on, and told my little sister, Sian and me, how he wanted to play it to our mum in the hope that she would love him again, or something. To this day I can’t hear the song without thinking of how broken a man he was, and how little I knew. I wish only that he wasn’t such an asshole, so that I could feel sorry for him for longer.

Alanis Morissette – You Oughta Know

We never had a car when it was just Mum, Sian and me, so Mum would often borrow her friend Debbie’s car for whenever she needed the use of it. I remember Jagged Little Pill being one of the few cassettes we had, and this song really sticks out. I think it may have a lot to do with this: Whenever Alanis hit that line; my mum’s hayfever kicked in, or something. Seriously, it’s one of life’s great mysteries. “It was a slap in the face/how quickly I was replaced/and are you thinking of me when you f-” “AAATCHOO!” Weird, right? Perplexes me to this day.

The Offspring – Want You Bad

This is the song that got me into ‘rock’ music. I was in year 8, I was on a school trip to Germany. Up until this point I’d been friends with the townie kids in my class (‘townies’ were kids from Townhill and Mayhill in Swansea – kind of like how ‘chavs’ started; before the mindless violence – anyone else was a ‘surfie’, regardless of whether you surfed or not), and although they were good fun friends, they just weren’t my ‘sort’ of friends. Then on the ferry from Dover to Calais, I became friends with these other kids. We were sitting around this touch screen thing, which was a jukebox that played videos. And this was one of the songs they played. I think it’s worth telling you that they also played ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’. And I actually was lent one of my new friends’ tape walkman with Nevermind on it during the journey home, so by all means it would make sense to say that Nirvana were my induction band. But ‘Want You Bad’ was my new favourite song. And I’d found a new buncha kids who I was more alike. I’d found my ‘place’ in school.

Limp Bizkit – Rollin’

Right. So… Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water was the, uh… Man, I don’t know how to put this… It was… It was the first album I ever bought. I know, I know. That’s not the worst part, though. I really liked it. And, you want a confession? If I’m out with my friends and this song comes on, we have a blast. We ‘sing’ along. We bounce around. We even do the dance. Then we have another drink, and laugh about how bad our taste in music was.

Lostprophets – Shinobi vs Dragon Ninja

Lostprophets are that band from round here that made it big. Turns out, really, really big. But I remember when they first came out, there was loads of buzz around ‘cause they were only from the Rhondda, so it was really close to home. ‘Kerrang!’ was all over them like fake tan on a Swansea girl, so us kids were way excited. I remember hearing this song and being blown away – it was so different to what everyone was listening to (which in my group of friends, I’ll be honest, was only Nirvana), and it was really big. I really don’t think there’s anyone my age, especially from around here, who was into ‘alternative’ music that hasn’t owned or doesn’t still own The Fake Sound of Progress. And I’ll be honest – I don’t think there are many of those kids that weren’t at that gig. They played at this tiny, amazing venue in Swansea called the Patti Pavilion – it was my first ‘rock’ gig, my first gig sans-family; and it was fucking heaving. So many of us there; from my school, different schools – kids from all around, queuing outside, all meeting, talking to one another. Seriously, I even meet people now, and if the conversation somehow comes round to it, I’m surprised how many people say, “I was there!” My English teacher’s band (more on those later) were the support, and rocked the fuckin’ house. And ‘Prophets? Kicked ASS. It’s true. There was a time when they were exciting; electric and eclectic. And Hardcore. The room was packed; there wasn’t even enough room to sweat. Literally, shoulder-to-shoulder with about 900 other kids – so close, in fact, that if one person jumped, the rest of us jumped. It was amazing, and as much as I hate to admit it – it was one of those generation-defining moments.

Liberty 37 – 1942

So, Liberty 37 are my most favourite band. Ever. It’s my band that I don’t care what anybody else thinks, they are mine and they will be forever. And the weirdest part is, the singer was my English teacher. It started off as “hey, have you heard Mr. Lewis’ band?” It continued with me getting hold of their second album, God Machine, and seeing them at Lostprophets. I regrettably only got into them as much as I am now after the ‘Prophets gig. But I absolutely adore them. Ishmael Lewis (the singer, my teacher) is the reason I started singing, the reason I started playing music. To be honest, if there were a John Hughes-esque Rite du Passage movie about me, the soundtrack would be almost solely Lib. I learned to sing by singing along to the songs. I learned to play guitar by working the songs out. I try and show them to everyone at some point. This song has one line that has spoken to me and meant the most to me from any song: “What’s a boy to do?”

Pitchshifter – Microwaved

I was in year 9, so I must have been about 14 when Pitchshifter came into my life. I think ‘Microwaved’ was on a ‘Kerrang!’ (oh yes) mix CD, and I thought it was fucking ace. None of my friends got it. We always used to go to town, my friends and I. We’d go wander round town, I’d wander off while my friends stole shit from HMV (that was too high a risk for me) and then we’d go to Hyper Value, steal loads of random shit that we could mess around with then go get high at the colosseum by the leisure centre. This is what we’d do every weekend. We wouldn’t even steal proper stuff – it was always really silly things like neck ties and flammable shit. I once took a whole Santa costume, too. This one Saturday, the 5th of October 2002 (I most certainly did have to look that up), Pitchshifter played the aforementioned Patti Pavilion. We’d just stolen some dust masks and kneepads from Hyper Value, and we were using the dust masks as some weird smoking implement (take a huge toke, place the mask on; breathe recycled smoke), and we made friends with these two guys who asked if they could borrow a lighter. They were going to Pitchshifter. I wanted to go to Pitchshifter. None of my friends would, but we persuaded them to go. My friends went home to get some money and I went to the venue with the two guys.
While we were sitting on the grass outside the Patti, we made friends with this other kid and two girls. Jon, Louise and Ellie. We met Jason Bowld the drummer, and Jim Davies the guitarist (also from the Prodigy – he’s the dude in the stripy top in the Firestarter video). The gig was fucking incredible. Not only were Pitchshifter amazing, but also the then-little-known (and now defunct and unremembered) ThisGIRL were fantastic. I never saw those two dudes again. Saw Ellie around the scene for a few years. Louise was seeing a friend of mine for a while recently. My friends never came back.

Oh yeah, and Jon became my best friend, and still is to this day.

Johnny Cash – A Boy Named Sue

At the age of about 14 I got my first ‘job’ – delivering papers. On a Sunday. For £7. Not £7 an hour, just £7. Sunday papers in the UK are packed chock-full of supplements and ‘better living’ mags and… Well, just shite, basically. And carrying bags of them around the way-too-hilly area where I lived, at 7 in the morning was way crap. And way heavy. So sometimes, my Bamps (my grandad – it’s a Welsh thing, apparently) would drive down and take me round in the car (that way, it only took one to two hours). He had (well, probably still has) this tape of ‘Country Classics’, and we’d always listen to it, without fail. It’s where I first started to love country. One of the songs was this, and we’d always crank it up and sing along together. I loved how crazy and random I thought the lyrics were – “Well I hit him once right between the eyes and he went down, but to my surprise, he came back with a knife, and cut off a piece of my ear”. Some of the most beautiful moments in my life happened during those car rides, I think most notably the bonding with my Bamps.

A – Nothing

I could pick any ‘A’ song, really. They were a huge part of my early teens; their ridiculously happy pop-punk and ‘everything is ace’ attitude just really, really appealed to me. But Nothing was the first track I heard of theirs. This was the first (of many) bands that I liked and no one else did – and I didn’t give a shit. This was my band. And I absolutely love them still. I know; the nigh-on-22 year-old in me says “no man, don’t do it!” but there’s something in them fitting Billy Joel lyrics into a pop-punk song that really does it for me. However, the album Hi-Fi Serious was the soundtrack to my early teens, from age 12 or 13 until about 16 or so. I even had… The hoodie. Indeed. ‘A’ also hold a very special place in my heart – for W.D.Y.C.A. I being the one and only song that I have ever been caught air-guitarring and miming (into a mirror, no less) to. Let’s face it though – there are plenty worse things my mum could have caught me doing, like, I could have been jerking off to Tool or something.

Tool – Schism

So, I’m about 14 or 15. And I hear this track on some TV station, probably ‘Kerrang!’ or something. And at first I’m like, ‘whoah, this bass line is awesome’ which then becomes ‘this guy’s voice is awesome’, and then ‘this song is awesome’… Thus began my love affair with Tool. I remember the day I bought… Well that’s not exactly true, I remember picking the album up, and I remember listening to it. Tool were the soundtrack to my mid to late teens. Lateralus pretty much being the only thing Jon and I listened to for a while. One night, Jon and I listened to the whole album and stayed up really late. It was about 3 AM and the final track, Faaip de Oiad came on. That track features a sound clip of some dude, sounding like he is shitting himself, calling the Art Bell radio show. He basically talks about how he worked at Area 51 and that there’s stuff the government’s hiding, and he’s being chased across the country, blah blah. Needless to say, the two of us were fucking terrified. All I could see were Jon’s eyes about at wide as mine, staring at me as helplessly as I was he. “Turn the light on! Maaaaaan that was fuckin’ scary!” I couldn’t listen to the track alone for a long time afterwards – it really freaked me out.

Paul Weller – You Do Something To Me

Jess and I had started going out in March. Toward the end of May, just before my 16th Birthday, the two of us along with Jon and Danielle (another couple, my best friend and hers, respectively), went camping. There was no campsite so we just set up our tents behind the summer shacks along the beach. My mum had no idea; I’d told her it was a party at my friend’s. She’d bought me a small crate of beers to take – along with a pizza (which we barbecued for breakfast the following morning and was fucking gross). That night was the first night Jess and I spent together. I remember the four of us sitting in ‘our’ tent (I’d borrowed it from a friend – yes he was disgusted when he found out) drinking a bottle of Cava, I remember running into the sea, Jon shouting ‘don’t go, man! You’ll die! Your mum AND Chris Young dreamt you drowned!’ and later on, Jon saying that he thought he may lose his virginity that night. And me replying, “I already have!” and waving the condom at him (and they call it ‘maturing’!). For the rest of the night, Jess and I stayed up just talking, and spending time together. As we watched the sun rise, I sang this to her. It was ‘our song’ (even though she hated to admit that we had one) for years, and I guess, it always will be.

The Who – Baba O’Reilly

The first time I heard this song I was asleep. Seriously. I think it was possibly the first time I visited my father’s home in Spain, and I had fallen asleep in the car on the way from the airport. I had this crazy dream of kids, hand in hand, at night time, running through whatever barren junk filled landscape they were in; the only light coming from flaming torches held by the guy and people in the far background. It felt like escaping everyone, and it felt like young love.
I was woken up when we got there, and I just kept singing “teenage wasteland… it’s only teenage wasteland”. I had to ask, ‘what were we listening to in the car? Did they sing about teenage wasteland?’ When I listen to the song now, I still see the same image of what is my subconscious’ idea of a ‘teenage wasteland’ – and I’m almost moved to tears every time.

Tenacious D – Rock Your Socks

It’s summer. I’m 15, and I’m down the beach with Jon. We’re really high, we’ve been smoking that hash that he got all day. We’ve been smoking our ‘trademark’ joint: the Naked Lady. We’ve had a few ‘Ladies, and we’ve been sitting on this rock singing the Tenacious D album from the start. We stop singing due to laughing so much during this song, at the point where the guitar becomes all fanciful and kind of medieval. We’re watching some people play football; because light travels faster than sound, the sound of the kick comes later than the kick. Kick… “thupp”. Kick… “thupp”. We laugh so hard we can’t even sit up.

Free – I’m A Mover

I want to say ‘I first heard Free when…’ but the truth is, who the hell my age remembers when they heard a song as radio-played as All Right Now? It’s like asking a 14-year-old girl when they first heard Calvin Harris. Having said that, I remember when I got into Free. It was one summer when I went to visit my Dad in Spain – and Jon came with us. That holiday was when I heard other Free songs, and loved them. The reason I picked I’m A Mover is because it stuck out. That holiday was amazing. One of the only times I ever got high at my mum’s house (I’m sorry, mum) I was about 16 or 17, leaning out my bedroom window, in the sun, listening to this song. One of the best and last practices my old band with Jon had included a ten-minute jam version of this song. We totally winged it – there were guitar solos from both Jon and myself, as well as a bass solo from our friend Owain. And it was fucking awesome.

Nizlopi – Extraordinary

The first time I saw Nizlopi I was pleasantly surprised. I’d only heard JCB and was less than impressed. However, live they were something different entirely – so much energy; so much unparalleled soul. The second time I saw them was with Jess and our friend Lewis, in a tiny room in a club in Swansea. We danced and sang all night, and I even sang on stage with them. This song was both the funkiest and most romantic song ever. She always wanted me to sing it to her; and I never did. Although I did send all the lyrics in a text to her, safe for changing the line “you ride a bike and read Rilke; so it’s meant to be, Love” to “you love movies and Zombies, so it’s meant to be, Love”.

John Williams – Journey To The Island

I’m a big fan of John Williams’ compositions. And I’m an even bigger fan of dinosaurs. Jurassic Park is my favourite film. Ever. This is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I’ve ever heard – that scene in Jurassic Park when Alan, Ellie, Ian and Genarro see the Brachiosaur for the first time; I feel an unbelievably overwhelming sense of happiness and want to cry. It’s ridonculous. This track features that moment, and it all begins around the 4:30 mark, and at around 5:07, the recognisable theme begins; softly at first and then building and building. At my cousin’s wedding, we all had to R.S.V.P with our favourite film – basically it was at our table place, on our name cards; an idea to get the two families talking. Not only that, but they had music from all the films playing throughout dinner. That’s right. I ate a fancy ass dinner in a suit to the Jurassic Park theme. It’s one of my most favourite meals I’ve ever had (right after my Nan’s Christmas dinner – bliss). I’m listening to it now and I’m close to tears. I urge you; I implore you to listen to it – for me, please. Every single time, I get goosebumps, and feel that same euphoria. It’s also no secret, if you know me, that one of my only regrets in life is that I’ll never see a real dinosaur.

Elbow – One Day Like This

After hearing about Elbow for years but never actually hearing them, you can imagine it was quite a surprise to discover them while I was working in a JJB clearance outlet. Yes, among the bargain USA PRO tracksuits, Reebok Classics and a music playlist consisting of mainly Taio Cruz and Kelly Rowlands, I found salvation in Elbow. I just remember hearing this song break out of the mundane day, just making me feel really, really happy. I couldn’t hear any of the words properly, other than ‘throw those curtains wide’, so when I got home I Googled the shit out of it, finding my way to the video – which was a dude letting loose and having fun in his mundane job (check it out). I got hold of The Seldom Seen Kid, adored it and went about acquiring the rest of the albums – loving all of those too, I decided I needed to see this band live. So my good friend Matt and I went up to Manchester for their homecoming, ‘so-long-for-a-bit’ gig. We had the ‘limited rear view’ seats, which we thought was a bit sucky, but while we were sitting there some tour people were coming round with t shirts. I asked around, “is that free shit? Hey! We want free shit!” (like a true Swansea boy), and it turned out that those of us in the limited rear view seats were to be the Elbow Choir for the night – the 2,700 of us singing the backing vocals to The Stops was especially beautiful. But even though it’s generally frowned upon by hardcore fans to love a band’s most recent and most popular single, after years of trying… I can still come back to One Day Like This and just be overwhelmed with happiness. No matter where I am, or what the weather’s like, I listen to this and I just feel like the happiest fool around.

Soil – Halo

You have to realise that my generation was the ‘Nu-Metal’ generation. There are a few songs that everyone would go mental and unified for in the weekly under-18 rock night, “Teen Spirit”. Drowning Pool’s Bodies, Metallica’s Enter Sandman and, among more, Soil. We all fucking loved it, about a hundred of us all piled into one giant, bouncing ball of teen love and sweat and heart. Just before I started uni, Jess and I went on holiday. We were staying at a family hotel, with reps and entertainers and stuff. There was music playing over the PA all day – from Coldplay to the Spice Girls; radio-friendly crowd pleasers, basically. While we were sitting by the pool one day, all of a sudden, those thumping drums began. I think the opening scream to that song, combined with the utter discomfort of all the families there, as well as the reps’ rushed attempt to skip the track, makes that memory one of my favourites.

Iron Maiden – Run To The Hills

This song means so much, it’s difficult to know where to start. It’s being 15 and wailing with your best friend in the world, Jon, who loved Maiden as much as you – probably more (he certainly had more t shirts). The first Maiden album I bought was actually Rock in Rio, and I bought it from a tiny record shop called The Musiquarium, next to the fish stall my Nan worked at in Swansea Market. I listened to it so very much – pretty much all the time until I left my CD wallet either in school or on the school bus, where some dick face that probably wasn’t into anything other than Scooter didn’t hand it in. Maiden played in Cardiff in December 2003 on the Dance of Death tour, so Jon and I went up to see them. It was a huge ‘controversy’ (read: pile of wank) that Funeral For a Friend were supporting. We got there, queued up and got in, and FFaF had already started – I actually felt sorry for them seeing as they were still letting people in and the house lights weren’t even down. I remember looking at the room full of big, fat, sweaty, mullet-ed aging rockers, and thinking ‘shit… I don’t want to be back here the whole time’. We quickly devised a plan, which worked better than I think either of us had imagined – within 3 minutes of shouting “we love Funeral For a Friend” (a phrase I still feel dirty for using), we were at the FRONT. I mean, right at the barrier. The only thing in the way was an aforementioned mullet-ed leather clad fat guy exclaiming that he’d been there since 5pm and no one was getting past him. As soon as Maiden came on, the rush was so huge that he couldn’t handle it and got pulled out. Run To The Hills is rocking out with your best friend. I got Rock Band a while back. We’d had a few drinks and weren’t doing too well, and were getting kind of bummed out by it. If you haven’t played Rock Band, on certain songs there’s the chance for each of you to simultaneously ‘rock out’ by hitting any buttons you want, like a solo, (especially fun on the drums) at the end, upping your score like crazy – but you have to hit a predefined note, like in normal play, right after it for the bonus score to count. We’d missed the little ‘wig out’ bonus opportunity for every single song. Then this came on. Me on guitar, Jon on drums and Pete on bass; The Shaven Sushi rocked the fuck out for 3 minutes and 54 seconds, each of us wailing along. And we NAILED the ending.

Counting Crows – Anna Begins

If you’ve ever seen the VH1 Storytellers recording of this song, you’ve heard Adam Duritz’s explanation of this song. If you haven’t, I’ll explain it briefly – boy meets girl, boy has fun with girl. The lyric “I’m not ready for this sort of thing” is with regards to getting into a serious relationship. But he goes on to say how, by the end of the song, it means he’s not ready for it to end. Not emotionally ready, whatever. The day before Jess and I broke up, I knew it was going to happen. And I was in my bed, listening to music. And this came on. As soon as it hit the line, I got it. I realised that everything was going to be different, I realised that after nearly 6 years it was over, and I realised that the biggest part of my life didn’t exist anymore. And what’s more, I realised I was in no way ready for it. I don’t care if ‘Boys Don’t Cry’. I fucking cried. I cried the hardest I think I ever have. Thanks a lot Adam Duritz, you wonderful jerk.

Dan le Sac VS Scroobius Pip – Look For The Woman/Get Better

Messrs Dan le Sac and Scroobius Pip are whom I owe thanks to, for getting me into hip-hop. The album Angles blew my fucking mind! I just couldn’t believe there was intelligent hip-hop and oh – what was this? Sick, sick beats, my friends. But it took a long while, and a certain point in my life, for me to realise the sheer gravitas these words held. I remember the day, towards the end of my relationship with Jess, hearing these words:

“We got together so young/before our real lives had begun/but flowers don’t grow up as one/each finds it’s own route to the sun/and that’s exactly what we’ve done/we’ve grown up separately, too. But for a few years now, it’s been a problem/and these realisations, I wish that I could stop them/but I’ve realised that love is all we had in common/and deep down, you know that’s true.”

Yeah, that was big. And yeah, it broke my heart. But it helped me realise that I could find a way to understand what was going on. Funny then, that the first single off of their second album helped me start to feel better after I’d hit my depression. The song itself is a view on British youth and their way of life, but the chorus just struck a chord with me. Every morning I’d listen to it; that beautiful melody, and the repeating chorus, “Get better. Get better, get better, get better. Get better.” And I did.

The Hold Steady – Your Little Hoodrat Friend/Hurricane J

The Hold Steady have brought me so very far. And I don’t even mean physically, in terms of distance. I’ve met some amazing people due to this band – they are what brought me here and I’m sure, for a lot of you reading, they are what brought you here too. I’ve got these two songs because; Hoodrat is the song that got me into THS. I heard it on Tony Hawk’s Project 8 on my Playstation2. And I just thought, “This rules”. But it did, and still does kind of speak to me. Especially the line “the City Centre used to be the centre of our scene; now City Centre’s over, no-one really goes there”, because it’s true. When we were kids, the City Centre was the only place to go. We’d walk round the shops, we’d sit in Castle Square, we’d talk to eachother: skaters, goth kids, alt kids, punk kids – hell, even the select few dance kids who didn’t want a fight. We’d go to the Colosseum, we’d meet kids we knew there, we’d get high, and we’d piss about. We were part of a Unified Scene before I even knew what it meant. And now, there’s nothing. The Colosseum’s been filled in with concrete and plants. The only people who hang out at Castle Square are scallies, tramps and smackheads. There is a scene though, I do see it: hundreds of “emo” kids outside McDonalds. You know, the really annoying type. And now whenever I go back to Swansea I see what it’s become, and it’s so radically different. When I first heard Hurricane J, I was in love with it immediately. Just exactly what I needed. Since Jess and I broke up, I’ve been to both ends of the spectrum. I’ve been happy and clear that it was the right decision and that I’m better. And I’ve hit the polar opposite, and not wanted to do anything with my life, because, what’s the point now the future I’d planned for, the future I’d sorted myself out after failing at school, the reason I changed my ways, worked harder and got into uni doesn’t exist anymore? It’s been a horrible time. But the friends I have, and believe it or not even more so, the friends I’ve made through this band, were there for me. Then the new album and tour were announced. I was going to have a chance to meet all these people, soundtracked by how we met. Not only that, but international friends were going to make the trip. I thought, “This is going to be the point where everything gets better; this is what it’s building up to”. Then Hurricane J happened. It was so upbeat, so summery. Then I heard the lyrics. “Jessie, I don’t think I’m the guy”. Were they fucking kidding? What were the chances? My heart broke and leapt at the same time. I was happy.

Stevie Wonder – Superstition

Okay, I know I said that it was as chronologically to my life as I could remember, but… Well, I figured this is an ace song to end the mixtape on. I love this song. Besides Lately, it’s my favourite Stevie song. It is also the one, and only song, that will get me up to dance. Now, I don’t mean like in rock clubs where you stand around in a circle with your friends, pint in one hand, fist pumping with the other, screaming the lyrics. I love that, too. I mean if I’m in a horrible club, which I’m only in because the majority want to go somewhere other than Live Lounge or the affectionately – and completely accurately – named Sweatro’s (Metro’s to daytime people), and all they’re playing is Lady GaGa and Taio Cruz (seriously, I hate that guy). If this song comes on, I will groove like a motherfucker. It reminds me of when I used to go out with my friend Ami and the boys from her uni halls, to this night called ‘Funked Up’. Even though they played awesome music all night, it wasn’t until this came on that I really let loose. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the amount of people smoking weed. Maybe, just maybe… It was Stevie’s little funky blind ass. I’ve been in some shit clubs with friends before. But sometimes my friends will request this, and I’m THERE. I also swear I’m the only person in the club who actually knows the words. In fact… Come on; join in. Get involved. Get on it.

If you’ve downloaded the mixtape, skip all the other tracks. And dance with me.