BBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. Oh sorry, that’s just what’s left of the functionality of my poor eardrums. It’s 4am and my entire equilibrium and state of being has been altered by SKRILLEX -- I guess you could say I’m living a post-Skrill existence at this point.
Remember last week when the session drummer from Jack Black and Juliette Lewis' TV bands went on the Grammys and said all that racist shit against DJs right before performing with Deadmaus5? Awkward. A couple days ago he put out a pretty funny, lengthy, and charming apology, in which he said, in part “I don't know how to do what Skrillex does (though I fucking love it) but I do know that the reason he is so loved is because he sounds like Skrillex, and that's badass.
Not to be all crotchety today, but when I was younger, kids in my day carved SLAYER into their arms. It didn't even hurt. And it was classy. The shit is all this about?
UPDATE: Luke O'Neil with some good advice for the myterious Skrillex-carver over on PTSOTL, which he almost ruins by posting a pic of Richey Edwards -- "Kid, MAKE YOUR BED. Just looks sloppy."