MARY H. K. CHOI
AMPED UP
How
I learned to stop smoking and love electronic dance music.
It began
as an experiment, though the dangers of dabbling
seem obvious in hindsight. I thought
myself impervious, but the joke’s on me. Because guess what? I love electronic
dance music. Dead serious. I Slowly- it was so subtle I didn’t even notice at first-my responses to stimuli got remapped. Now I’m betrayed
by a conditioned effection for
fly-swarm sounds, jarring bass lines, and whistle bleats. I crave BPMs beloved
by the sweaty orange fist-pumping douches
for whom the rave scene in The Matrix
Reloaded is paradise. If I were
Homer Simpson, I’d hear my brain leaving my head and slamming the door behind it.
I didn’t start listening to robo tunes for asshats because I liked them. What happened
was, I quit smoking so I could start jogging, and I quickly learned that only a
particular sub-genre of EDM called dubtsep
could irritate me sufficiently to incite explosive forward propulsion. Only
hate-listening could make merage-run. And I didn’t want to spoilmusic I already
like by Clockwork Oranging it into my oxygen-starved brain.
What
came next humiliating to admit. My neglected muscles and heretofore purely
ornamental bronchial cilia began mending. As my endurance increased, I can only
assume that endorphins flooded my limbic system and prefrontal lobes, which
then stupidly scrambled my runners high and escalating self-worth with crashing
mushromm-cloud wobbles. Suddenly I had positive associations with Skrillex, in
whom I used to see merit only as a hasty but effective Halloween costume. But no
I felt nothing but gratitude for this specific musical subgenre, which I’ve since
learned is referred to as brostep. Gross.
I’m
not a music snob by any stretch. I like what most people my age like-the stuff
they loved when they were younger. In my case that’s pop, R&B, and rap from
the ‘90s. For example. I like Kendrick Lamar because he slots nicely into the “Devin
the Dude and OutKast circa when they were exciting” file. But as my run times improved
and I needed new music to add to my oh so innocuously titled running mix, I began
looking for a new fix. I started checking oracular music-genome
algorithms and streaming sites for associated acts. And that’s where I finally
confronted the awful truth : I know have bad taste in music.
Difficult
Word
Dabbling
: berkecimpung
Hindsight
: belakang
Subtle
: halus
Stimuli
: stimuli
Remapped
: memetakan kembali
Betrayed
: dikhianati
Effection
: kasih sayang
Douches
: pancuran
