Saturday, October 27, 2007

1,2,3,4 and other indie hits

I am currently having what could only be referred to as one of those classic New York experiences. I returned home to my shared Lower East Side sublet at 2:00am on a Saturday, ready for my first early night in weeks. My housemate was playing the Feist/New Buffalo mega hit, '1,2,3,4' loudly from behind his closed door. Nothing wrong with that. But within moments, the song was being accompanied by a woman shrieking and panting, and it dawned on me that in all my share house years, this was my very first overheard sex encounter.

His ITunes shuffle in full swing, it was an indie rock fuck fest like never before. Arcade Fire's 'No Cars Go' (shriek, pant), followed Sufjan Sevens 'Chicago' (shriek, pant). The bed smacking against the wall to the beat of Regina Spektor's 'Fidelity', the panting escalating as Neutral Milk Hotel's 'In the Aeroplane Over the Sea' was heard through these Very Thin Walls. I swear I heard her yell "Pitchfork!!!" in a moment of pure ecstasy as Spoon came over the stereo.

I searched desperately for my headphones to block out the hideous sound of this most obvious indie rock playlist, which I decided was worse then the grossness of hearing two people going at it. Of course, they are no where to be found.

Track change, where on earth will this go next. I would kill for some Lil Wayne right now. I wonder if it would be inappropriate to shout out requests. I hear the whispered vocals of a strangely familiar voice. They are copulating to Ben Lee. The chorus sets in..."Just do it, do it, whatever it is", and I have a little revelation of my own. The Shuffle mode is truly the most human of all program functions.

1 comment:

Jess said...

"I swear I heard her yell "Pitchfork!!!" in a moment of pure ecstasy as Spoon came over the stereo. "

You are too fucking clever by half, lady. I "laughed out loud" at your quip, which - considering how rubbish and sadsy-pants I am currently feeling - is quite the miracle indeed.

Are you ever coming home? Or do I need to save up and make my way over to NYC if I am to soak up the combined brilliance of a Lorelei/Emily double bill?

xx

(This is Jess the doorbitch, by the way. I figure it worth mentioning as Blogger did some rejigging of my account and now I have no idea what fucking contact details it happens to leave when I throw a comment around the interwebs...)