Now Playing Tracks

  • Track Name

    Maps

  • Album

    Fever To Tell

  • Artist

    Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Maps 

Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Okay, it’s July fourth, and I know…it’s been a long time (since you’ve heard from me). Fear not, I have been prolific, nonetheless. By prolific, I mean, even though, I’ve been innactive to interweb, but in excess, still practicing the three major (and only) principles that rule Madiland and her Musicstache. I’ve been , prolific in my writing, worshipping (all things music), and fantasizing (about cute boys with facial hair), in lame men’s terms. So, keep reading, for there’s much to come, and more in store, for this modest, simpleton web url, pinky promise. With this said, tonight, I’m writing in the afterglow of surprisingly impressive fireworks via surprisingly impressive (Jewish) boy in a surprisingly impressive part of Massachusetts…surprisingly not in the city of Boston- but in surprisingly impressive suburb (I never thought I’d hear myself say that). Of course, this was all a surprisingly impressive group of factors, that led me to seek the warm, cozy, and thus ever so nostalgia-inducing record of a lifetime as the means in which I process all these, finally, great feelings. Fever To Tell, the debut record from  Yeah Yeah Yeahs (circa 2003) was defining for the 5th grade (give or take) version of yours truly- it made me believe, that Karen O was current, and just as cool as Gwen and Debbie…her contemporaries. It was the gateway drug to more modern punk, from my own generations. It was the pinnacle of a light, I saw, for myself, at the end of a dark tunnel…inevetibly to come. I hope that was middle-school girl angsty enough for you, because it definetelt painted the picture well on my end (lolz). Anyways, perspective boys, big night outs, and a steady, promising, and forward-moving streak, in my current dabblings, feel a lot like, the first time I saw YYY’s front lady, singing, sopping wet, in an empty auditorium, Maps (aka the music video for said track). Both of these vintage and current events felt and tonight, feel, a lot like the potential for “home”. I like it. I like Maps. I like you.

So, revel in my thirteen-year-old tendencies….because, I’m almost twenty one, and, I’m a little less scared, this way: the soundtrack to the beginning of the beginning, in the world of ehm-dog, silver fox, Madi, jew bagel, Madison sil**** always within an arms reach, appropriately, as well, 

Your proud patriot, 

- Madi 

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  • Track Name

    Yours to Keep

  • Album

    Rock'n'Roll Highschool

  • Artist

    Teddybears Stockholm

Yours To Keep

- Teddybears Stockholm

Uh…memory lane…love’s shuffle

When I was in high school…circa fifteen, sophomore year, now that I think about it, I listened to this song, on repeat. There’s something about the melody that’s glamorous, without even needing words. The lyrics, and melody combined spawned perfection and obsession, secret teen-crazed dirty little secret: still, to this day, a scene plays in my head: verbatum, the same scene I put together, 5 years ago. I shall illustrate this scene, for those who feel like taking a trip, back to the best time, the time when you were so naive, so new to everything, so surprised, so intigued, you blushed. So, for those who want that, laugh, as you read through, my very own dreamworld: It’s a really pretty girl, genuine in her expression, and an understated style, because she’s to busy meeting fabulous people, going to fabulous places, and being well, fabulous. She does so, of course, without even trying. Please, to bother with something outside of comfort, in the wardrobe dept, is never okay, it’s her glow, that make’s everything on her frame, stunning: she’s natural, jeans are natural: everything else is a manifestation of other people’s influences, and your attempts to live up to their arbitrary “cool code”. Obviously, this girl is uninterested. Anyways, her life is spent, in a car, convertible, perched on the headrest, saturated in color, and happiness. Her chaperone? Her counterpart: equatable in sincerity and character, and just as happy to be on a road, to nowhere, with her…because She’s, His, “Yours To Keep”. I know elaborate, but when your 15, friendless, and can’t get a guy to come near you with 10 foot pole, because of how desperately uncool you are, you find, you have a lot of time, to dream up, only the best of dreams. One day, I’m totally going to have this song, and this life come hand in hand, and I can’t wait. I can’t wait to find that feeling of infinity, of perpetual bliss, and I can’t wait to know, It’s mine, solely, to live with, sans expiration date. 

- M


  • Track Name

    Josie

  • Album

    Dude Ranch

  • Artist

    Blink 182

Josie

- Blink 182

All The Small Things: Blink 182, My One True Love. 

THIS WAS TAKEN FROM MY LATEST COLLABORATION WITH TOM SMITH AND HIS BRAND NEW ZINE, NAMELESS: CLICK HERE AND SPREAD THE WORD, MY LITTLE STACHER’S. 

Today was a good day. It started out, to be perfectly honest, like shit. I guess, that’s when you realize, you’ve grown up a lot: when the little things stop affecting you. It’s a slow process, this whole “maturing” thing. Remember when ice cream or no ice cream dictated your over-all content (or discontent) in a day? Ok, well, I do: even if I was five! I liked my ice cream, back then. I appropriately, also had an unhealthy obsession with anything that resembled, what diabetics fear, SUGAR. It’s true, I was a fiend, from three to thirteen. A fiend  for anything that was sweet and chemically colored/created. I ate so much (I vaguely recall sneaking sugar out of the pantry) when I was little, that my doctor caught me teetering on the edge, falling slowly into a self-inflicted case of diabetes. Yah, I’m gross: I will say, however, I think I ate enough candy to last a lifetime, for I really don’t like it anymore.

Ok, so a little derivative from the topic at hand, but anecdotes of my childhood gluttony seem more than necessary, in a time like this.

To recap: today had the potential to suck some serious d***, but it didn’t. Why? I guess, because ice cream, jealousy-induced banter, out-of-my-control situations, and that naïveté mixed with disappointment you feel, when you discover: some people are truly terrible, inside and out, collectively warrant zero fucks to me (ok, fine, except for ice cream: I would rather die than go sans ice cream). Pardon my french, I’ve put up with a lot of bull shit: it seemed appropriate, given the context. Accordingly, I finally feel like I fell into a good group of friends. Actually, fuck it, I didn’t fall, I chose these friends. I’m proud of these friends. I’m happy with who I surround myself with. I, finally, found motivated individuals, who still want to be kids. I found a bunch more “Madi’s”, I never thought existed. I have fun, healthy fun, my idea of fun. There are few compromises in my plans and zero in my being, to associate with these friends. It’s so cool. I feel, like I always thought I should: I feel normal.

So, the need/want to meet my little brother via these select few (he’s been visiting for the last week), my best friend, Sam, a person, I can say, I’ve wronged more than once, flying across the country, because I needed help: because he cared enough to be some one when I had no one, it’s the 2 AM phone calls from New York City, laced with enthusiasm towards my latest successes and laughter surrounding some dorky stuff I did in the past, it’s the organizational help I traded for  beer and mp3’s, and it’s my co-creator of The Stache, plus fellow hair dying enthusiast and I’s identical looks exchanged over tonight’s sinfully good pizza (steak was a topping, how couldn’t it of been?), that at times is so flattering it’s overwhelming: foreign until now, yet telling of my progress. I feel like, finally, I have my priorities, in line with who I am, deep down. I feel like these are the people I will change the world with.

Thus, it’s only befitting, that today’s music selection, is dedicated to my adolescent idols,Blink 182. Blink’s ability to instill not just nostalgia, but an actual sense of my kid years, clad in fishnets and stud belts, whilst hearing the opening chord’s to Dumpweed, or any of the group’s music, for that matter, well kills me.

Call it weird, dorky, lame, or “uncool”. Fuck, call it what you want, but Blink 182 will always be one of my favorites. Maybe I’m deaf, or something. Maybe I have shitty taste in music. I can tell you this, however; I feel like the same ten-year-old loser, I was back in the day, but the difference, now, is that these “new” friends, all move to turn up the music, when Carousel comes on shuffle. This time around, I feel more like a kid, then I ever got to be, when I actually was one. I’ve crowd surfed, ripped dresses, got caught mid-pee by the owner of the car, said pee was extracted from my body, piss drunk, in front of, with his spot-light equivalent head lights. I’ve found my way, in the pouring rain, from NYC to Connecticut, from the lawn to the pit: from dry to drenched. Blink shows trump any other experiences to date. I’ve made friends, I’ve rekindled old friendships, and I’ve jumped up and down, harder, than ever before, smiling, bigger than I thought imaginable, and screaming, louder than you’d probably ever, want to be in my radius to hear.

I’ve done all this with the likes of Enema of The StateDude Ranch, and Take Off Your Pants and Jacket (and the rest of the band’s discography) playing in the background. Evidently, Blink 182, well, pop punk, as a genre, for that matter, symbolize the parts of growing up, I pray to god, I never forget.

So what? So, you find my feelings to be over zealous? So…think that. Because, I still feel the same way Mark Hoppus, Tom DeLonge, and Travis Barker did when they wrote about that giddy anxiousness feeling, of something new, on their track, First Date. And you know what? I love it, even now. The day I dread being with someone, and feeling like a kid again, and doing the stuff, I liked/like/and will like from my youth, is the day, I really did sell out. The day I stop wanting to make “this” last forever, is the day, I truly stop being me. Evidently, “me”, I’m beginning to find, can exist, at any age. Blink 182, similarly, can be my favorite band at 8 or 88. Thus, based on my recent apparitions:

The future seems a lot less scary.

I Guess This is Growing Up,

- Madi


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