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These lines come from verbatim from the opening few paragraphs of Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer. Miller published the novel in the 1930s in Paris but its highly erotic and inflammatory content kept it from being published in the American novelist’s home country for more than forty years.

As Refused say, they are evoking the spirit of 1968’s rebellion, using these revolutionary words as an introduction. In the same way that Miller noted you only need a voice to sing a song, Refused are saying that you don’t need money or power to use your voice and be a revolutionary.

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This song got me through some next-level heavy shit this year, in particular, the refrain, “The heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity.” You’re right it does! Just let it fall away. Float free, off into space. Let’s all give it a whirl.

https://soundcloud.com/vvaleedaly/sleeping-at-last-pluto

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Fuck that motherfucker (can’t even remember his name) who wanted you to pay $100 for a digital download of his new mixtape. His new mixtape, for Christ’s sake. Define “irrelevant.”

This, on the other hand, was a legitimate connection to this music through the way it was received. Buying music is pretty boring in 2014 because Apple’s strangled the life out of it like it does out of many things. Remember when you used to go to record stores and browse and get a record and open it and feel it and blah blah blah?

This whole subscription thing was like that times ten. Each disc came signed by the artist because he shipped it out himself, no fulfillment service. It was like, fuck, Ryan made this music for me and fucking hand-delivered it.

Hard to top, hard to top.

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Again provided by the peerless Jeremy Larson (see my above Say Anything review).

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This is not hyperbole… it’s really that ginormous

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After all, it’s been 10 years since …is a Real Boy came out. Holla!

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I’m referencing the Smashing Pumpkins' 2000 album Machina (pronounced MAW-keen-uh), which was just a little too big, ambitious, and spiritual to overcome Limp Bizkit and Korn in terms of record sales. But who gives a shit about record sales, huh, Fred Durst? Who are people still listening to?!—but I digress. The comparison is natural because Hebrews is just as ambitious and just as much of as gamble.

ACTUALLY, it’s odd, how closely Max Bemis’s discography mirrors Billy Corgan’s. There was the visceral, guitar-laden rock debut (…is a Real Boy and Siamese Dream, respectively); the expansive double-album sophomore effort (In Defense of the Genre and Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness); these, in both cases, are followed by a string of albums that both hit and miss with fans; just something I noticed.

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