so i’m sitting in my cubicle this morning listening to “turn it up faggot” and i feel overwhelmed by this giddy pride in being 24 years old and listening to thrashy, distorted noise and screams and thinking how if i were 40 i’d be such a fucking loser. but i’m not. i start to sense a plan developing but its too early to translate these sensations into something manageable, so i decide to finish my coffee and let my brain catch up to the intuition of my body. it takes me an hour and a half, as always, to finish off that last muddy, sugary gulp, and by the time i finally do, i have a pretty good deerhunter buzz flowing through my body. i had listened to the album a few times and remembered how much i love adorno, and wondered if it was really ‘that’ adorno that the song was about. how could you know: the words are indecipherable throughout the album, but it doesn’t matter. i don’t think anybody notices that. on most songs, if you’re not paying attention its difficult to distinguish vocals from layer after layer of crunchy guitar and bass fuzz. at what place do deer and hunters intersect?
as soon as my phone rang i realized that, ok this is for real. i calmly stood up from my desk, shook my foot until it woke up and proceeded to walk down the hall, out the glass doors, and sort of skipped like a fool to jam my arm into the elevator doors and squeezed in. downstairs, waiting to be let in, were dene and jeff each supplied with guitar amps sufficiently loud enough to really offend the 7th floor of the hedley building and all of the cubicle robots occupying it. each also had a bag filled with rocks, torches, cans of gasolines, and ski masks. when we make it back up we plug the amps in, hook in the ipods to their respective amp via rca adapters. the amps are about 10 yards apart and i’m between the two, 10 yards out. we form an equilateral triangle. at this point my ‘team’ is confused why i brough 2 strange looking guys with backpacks and guitar amps up to the quiet, orderly data-entry floor. i was out of my element. so they sync up adorno and on my cue play it a modest level. every one is staring in wonder. the supervisors stand up, stern with sourpuss faces. get that sourpuss face out of my life. at 10 seconds i cup my mouth and scream my first and last scream into the 7th floor ceiling “TURN IT UP FAGGOT.” and the noise went from about a 2 to about a10, and panic ensues. by now our ski masks are on, our shirts are at our feet and they’ve handed me my flaming torch. we line up shoulder to shoulder, rock in hands, approach the first rat and watch it scurry away. yeah, cause today we;re the terrorists that you’ve all been pissing and shitting about. and we simultaneously ejaculate our rocks all over the rat’s computer monitor as people scream and all around us all you hear is “SITTING ON THE FLOOR WITH MY HANDS TO THE CROSS, TAILS CROSSED, TAILS CROSSED”, and i become acutely aware that this is my last day of work, cause they’re gonna probably fire me. we sprint through aisles, torches in hands, smashing computer monitors with our rocks gods among men. high fives all over the places, sweat dripping over our bodys. as adorno reaches its end, i think to myself, “as much as i like this album, this next song isn’t nearly as exciting as the previous one and maybe we oughtta get out of here while the energy level is as high as it is”. with a beckon i draw the terrorists towards me and as we prepare to pack up and head out i notice that everyone is on their knees with their arms extended towards us. what?
and check out their new album 'cyptograms'
