Gift from a fasting Jew
That said, I must present myself, and my Prada briefcase of Apse to Feldheim:
Apse is a homegrown Brooklyn band whom I discovered while researching musical performances at the Pussycat Lounge—a squalid stripclub in Manhattan’s financial district whose clientele include old Cornell Pi Kappa Fi brothers and fellow Fidelity and Goldman Sachs twenty-something I-Banking millionaires.
Irregardless of the discovering venue, a band making music in a room that looks like this:
must be cool as shit.
This phrase describes the kind of music that makes Hippies weep because it syncs so well with the Visualizer on their media player. Many bands nowadays love to exploit the phrase when self-proclaiming their music. I believe Creed stated that their music depicts “sonic landscapes mimicking the surroundings of Jesus while condemning the Pharisees.” Cat Power claims she creates “sonic landscapes illustrating a moody, bitch-ass chick playing piano and crooning.” And Nickelback proselytizes “sonic landscapes of Nicholas Cage playing a PRS reminiscing about how he misses his drunk dad’s beatings.”
But Apse stays true to the “sonic landscape” phenomenon by making sounds that travel, sounds that eerily choose moonlit cirrus and cumulus over domestic and high school sorrows, sounds that are mists over moors. Maybe this is an amateur first EP with a lot of potential talent; maybe this is pure shit genius.
One thing for sure is that having this band’s name in your iTunes will always look cool.
I give my sincerest thanks for the honor of my petition to join the Feldheim. I believe I can look down my nose at the world and utter words of monosyllabic arrogance to par with you who have come before me. Thank you for creating such a place, such a haven for asses caped in velvet, cuff linked in sterling, and accustomed to the “finer things in life.”
Your hopeful equal,Blossom -- (what the fuck kind of avatar is this? But I'll take it.)