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If they respect you, respect them. If they disrespect you, still respect them. Do not allow the actions of others to decrease your good manners, because you represent yourself, not others.

— Mohammad Zeyara (via gezel)

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Zoom nevver:

Design Crush
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Zoom para el mejor escritor de latinoamerica, el grande Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
Lo unico que me duele de morir es que no sea de amor.

para el mejor escritor de latinoamerica, el grande Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Lo unico que me duele de morir es que no sea de amor.

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There’s a certain frequency that will definitely affect you. It’s not imaginary or even cultural. It’s physical. In the past, if humans felt something that deep, it was a stampede or an earthquake. These days, you feel it, and maybe it takes a second before you realize that you’re not about to be killed, but you’ve been triggered, and off you go.

Mo’ Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove by Ahmir Questlove Thompson, 2013

Interesting footnote in the book, implying that low sonic frequencies will trigger adrenaline and an instinct to move. I’d like to study the theory.

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…I had been a DJ of one kind or another since I was eleven years old. But that one night changed everything I knew about DJing. Up to that moment, it was mainly about being a human iPod: you served up the best songs to people that they could imagine, and some that they couldn’t imagine. After seeing Aba Shanti, I realized that a DJ could not only have a personality but be a personality, and that he could be a person with power over the emotions of others. He made me see that it was a psychological and even sacred responsibility, all in one night.

Mo’ Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove by Ahmir Questlove Thompson, 2013

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Even more annoying, you guys reprogrammed all my associations—now it’s just stinky socks on a fucking tour bus. This whole shit is made worse by the fact that music is now available to everyone, all the time, in every place. That doesn’t necessarily reward real connection with music. When I really like something, I tend to never listen to it again. I want to remember the feeling even more than I want to remember the music. If you get that record back out, you risk learning that it’s not as good in reality as it is inside you. Better to have the memory than to go back and have to readjust your truth. And even if it is every bit as good, you’re just going to deconstruct it, like this. You’re going to use your brains instead of your feelings. As you get older, feelings are hard to come by.

Rich Nichols, The Roots manager, in Mo’ Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove by Ahmir Questlove Thompson, 2013

 As you get older, feelings are hard to come by.

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When you live your life through records, the records are a record of your life.

Mo’ Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove by Ahmir Questlove Thompson, 2013

Trademarked quote of a kindred spirit.

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…Sometimes I only remember things through records. They’re the trigger for me, they’re Pavlov’s bell. Without thinking about the music, I can’t remember the experience. But if I think long enough about a specific album, something else always bubbles up.

Mo’ Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove by Ahmir Questlove Thompson, 2013

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Artist: The Strokes
Song: Someday
Album: Is This It
Plays: 63,799
audio

alwaysvcnguyen:

Someday - The Strokes

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Sometimes I think, man, all the people I get to hear this song with, we’re going to miss each other when we die. When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other.

Love is A Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield, 2007

I hope this is what happens when we die: we become songs.

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I love my iPod, too—completely love it. I love my iPod carnally. I would rather have sex with my iPod than with Jennifer Lopez. (I wouldn’t have to hear the iPod whine about getting it’s hair rumpled.) But for me, if we’re talking about romance, cassettes wipe the floor with MP3s. This has nothing to do with superstition, or nostalgia. MP3s buzz straight to your brain. That’s part of what I love about them. But the rhythm of the mix tape is the rhythm of romance, the analog hum of a physical connection between two sloppy, human bodies. The cassette is full of tape hiss and room tone; it’s full of wasted space, unnecessary noise. Compared to the go-go-go rhythm of an MP3, mix tapes are hopelessly inefficient. You go back to a cassette the way a detective sits and pours drinks for the elderly model clerk who tells stories about the old days—you know you might be somewhere bored, but there might be a clue in there somewhere. And if there isn’t, what the hell? It’s not a bad time. You know you will waste time. You plan on it.

All mixes have their mutations, whether it’s the mmmmm of the cassette of the krrriiissshhh of the MP3. There is no natural religion, as William Blake would say. No matter how hard you listen, you can’t get down to the pure sound, not as it gets heard by impure flesh-and-blood ears. So instead of listening to the pure sound, you listen to a mix. When you try to play a song in your memory, and you remember how it goes, you’re just making an imperfect mix of it in your mind. Human sound is mutant sound. You listen, and you mutate along with the sound.

Love is A Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield, 2007

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After Renee died, I assumed the rest of my life would be just a consolation prize. I would keep living, and keep having new experiences, but none of them would compare to the old days. I would have to settle for a lonely life I didn’t want, which would always remind me of the life I couldn’t have anymore. But it didn’t turn out that way, and there’s something strange and upsetting about that. I would have stayed in 1996 if I could have, but it wasn’t my choice, so now I have to move either forward or back—it’s up to me. Not changing isn’t an option. And even though I’ve changed in so many ways—I’m a different person with a different life—the past is still with me every minute.

Love is A Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield, 2007

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I realize that I will never fully understand the millions of bizarre ways that music brings people together.

Love is A Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield, 2007

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Sometimes great tunes happen to bad times, and when the bad time is over, not all the tunes get to move on with you.

Love is A Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield, 2007

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What doesn’t kill you maims you, cripples you, laves you weak, makes you whiny and full of yourself at the same time. The more pain, the more pompous you get. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you incredibly annoying.

Love is A Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield, 2007

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