Haha, oh I was just reminded of this, looking over what I'd written about roommates. I posted this as a comment elsewhere but it bears repeating because, haha, fuck, I just find it too much not to share without revealing identities of offenders.

My next-door neighbor freshman year of college used to blast 70s FM classics when she was getting it on with her boyfriend. One night another one of my neighbors and I got super stoned in the kitchen and just sat there laughing and critiquing their music whilst eating birthday cake. Whenever the song would change we'd pause from licking our fingers and turn to each other, doofy grins and bloodshot eyes for sure, and last about one second before totally losing it.
"Like, who seriously gets in the mood when they hear 'Hello it's me' in 2006?"
"Oh my god, America -- 'Horse with no name'?? No wayyyy..."
"How the hell do you 'make love' to that shit, come on!"
"I feel so mean but I can't imagine it any other way than being stiff and awful and beyond hip...ahahahah"

At one point they started blasting "Mr. Blue Sky" on a loop and we totally lost it. "For fuck's sake, ELO?! No! No! Oh god, oh god I'm dying, I can't deal with this!"
I guess they liked that one a lot because they played it ALL THE FUCKING TIME after that for the next few months. That one seems like it'd be akin to sticking your erect member in a snowbank but apparently it hit some sort of aural sweetspot because for the next two months that song would result in rhythmic creaking of dormitory beds. E L fuckin' O, that's right.

Goddamn. But here I am blasting Bryan Ferry and judging like this when I really just wish music video performances were still made just like this, lipsynching and weird props and weirder backup dancers and long shots and all. Pop music videos these days, when they happen at all, seem to be created for an audience with the approximate attention span of goldfish, with most shots exceeding not much longer than one second before cutting to the next disparate, flashy image.



But do I 'make love' to it? Hell naw.