Archive for November, 2011

Sign up for now. Just do it.

So I’ve been putting off joining new music sites for a while now. For so long, was all I needed… or so I thought.

This morning, I looked into both Spotify and after hearing both names thrown around by a number of people. Upon seeing that Spotify wanted access to my Facebook account (including my password), I decided to opt for instead. Holy crap. It’s like a video game for music geeks.

Here I am in the spotlight, surrounded by Thanksgiving themed avatars.

The concept is simple. You can select a DJ name, enter a few lines in your profile, and then jump into a themed room. My first pick? “Shoegaze, dream pop, and more.” Once you’re in a room, you can just sit back and listen as strangers choose songs, or if there’s a spot open, you can become a DJ yourself. With each song played, you have a chance to either approve or disapprove (and by turn the song is deemed either awesome or lame).

Though I did college radio for four years, I was surprised just how nervous I got behind the DJ booth. Rachel, calm down. These people don’t know you, and you don’t even have to talk! I told myself. But back in my radio days, there was no instant feedback – no way of knowing if people loved or hated your choice. I know the lame-awesome meter is supposed to go along with the song, but I couldn’t help but think it applied to me as well. But once those heads start bobbing (which happens whenever someone likes a song), it somehow feels like an accomplishment, and that feeling is addictive.

20 DJ points and counting…



Can’t stop.

It’s been a while since I felt so strongly about a song as I do with this one.
It just feels good.

[How did I miss every single Active Child show at CMJ this year?]

They’re opening for M83 in a couple of weeks. See you there?

"He considered music a liberating force: it liberated him from loneliness, introversion, the dust of the library; it opened the door of his body and allowed his soul to step out into the world to make friends."

- Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being