Max Martin is singing. What a banger.


I take sacks to the face whenever I can, don't need no crutch. I'm so keyed up 'till the joint be burning my hand. Next time I roll it in a hampa, to burn slow, so the ashes won't be burning up my hand, bro. Hoochies can hit but they know they got to pitch in, then I roll a joint that's longer than your extension. Cause I'll be damned if you get high off me for free, hell no, you better bring your own spliff, chief. What's up, don't babysit that better pass the joint, stop hitting cause you know you got asthma. Crack a 40 open homie and guzzle it, 'cause I know the weed in my system is getting lonely. I gotta take a whiz test to my P-O, I know I failed cause I done smoked major weed bro. And every time we with Chris that fool rolling up a fatty, but the Tanqueray straight had me.

— Luniz, “I Got 5 on It,” Operation Stackola, 1995.


Even if our spirits are broken, let's confront it!


Close your eyes. You're watching a John Hughes film. It's the final scene. We're at a high school gym at the end of the homecoming dance. Anthony Michael Hall's learned too many hard truths in the plot preceding, but he's finally figured out the only truth that matters: Love looks pretty in pink. It's now just him and the girl he's been waiting for his whole life sitting on the gym floor, surrounded by streamers and glitter. Their heads lean in. Lips lock. The scene cuts to black.

Then this song comes on.

#music #write

What's Tropical House?

GQ has this handy guide, but if I could describe it, it's like being inside one of those echo-y tropical houses at night with a neon lazer light show and several species of colourful birds bopping their heads to water dripping at 106 BPM.

Oh. And Vin Diesel is singing.


I've probably listened to this a dozen times already. Tight, tight pop.