Songs To Cure Depression :: Danny Small – ‘My Girl’

“Sweeter than warm Cherry Pie.”

Okay, so we’ve entered into a situation where nothing has been wrote on the site since the last “Songs to Cure Depression” and it makes me think one of three things.
1. This should be bi-weekly and I’m writing far too much for one writer to write on one site.
2. We need more goddamn writers on the site.
3. I really don’t give a fuck about points 1 or 2 because this is magic.
So lets run with the latter.

My day (today) started hungover with the low lows, depression had reared its ugly head and nothing I did was getting rid of it. So I hit the bottle, the cowards way out. But I was out , out in the big wide world of the trafford centre when I started drinking so it wasn’t all bad. I was with a good friend (Lewis) and we drank hard, made arse-holes of ourselves and rode the bumper cars.
I’d won a plush PacMan toy from a grab machine and an hilarious 4 year old with his French parents kept us amused in the indoor wetherspoons so I gave the damn thing to him.
“say thankyou.”
Hell. that was good enough for me. Then we played laserquest and as a duo we took on the staff there and won. BUT WE ARE MISSING THE MAIN POINT.
I was introduced to this song this morning (before the low lows fully set in) by a young lady with a great soul and, shit, I was blown away. Maybe this is a testament to how the talented can fall through the slits in grids and become tramps, or maybe it isn’t. I couldn’t tell you. What I can say is that Danny Small has more talent than 12 Olly Murs, 17 Alexandra Burkes, and pisses on Justin Bieber like he was nothing but a bleach cake in a urinal (which has about the same amount of talent.) This is what every miserable shit in a suit riding the subway (or underground as they call in in London ((or BUS as we call it in Manchester))) needs to shoot a hot load of sweaty sunshine right into that glory hole in between the gluteus maximus muscles.
Plus, I love cherry pie.

Songs To Cure Depression :: Eels – ‘I Like the Way This is Going’

“…whatever seeds that you’re sowing, I like the way this is going.”

Okay, so last week was a real bummer and this week’s is a day late, but, we’re here and now I’m feeling a little better. I haven’t drank in two days (I even sat in a goddamn pub and didn’t touch a drop. Just sat sipping at a coffee) and I’ve been once again working my arse off with the various writings. Anyway, before I slip away on yet another tangent, let us break this down.

It’s a strange thing, this old life shite. How you can swing from one extreme to another (well not quite another, I’m not exactly shitting rainbows but there’s definitely a strong waft of what I thought was a stagnant air of…hope) with just the smallest of gestures, oh, and if this sounds a bit vague, it is meant to be. But, hell, it takes a man (or woman) to hit the bottom of the barrel to realise that he has nothing left to do but crawl on upwards, brushing off the crusted layers of shit until he hits the horrible blinding daylight of day to day life, of sweet, sweet, cum-sucking reality.
So I plan to sober up (don’t hold ya breath, though if you did you could probably hold it until I started breathing again,) keep a high level of work ethics, find whatever iota of zen I have left and work it until I can (perhaps/possibly/maybe/goddamn hopefully) be the kind of man that I can actually be proud of, because it’s damn hard to keep your head above the water if you don’t have a single shred of self-respect.
As far as the music goes it (once again) has very little to do with the situation, or does it? Anyway, it’s a great song by Mark Everette(a.k.a. E)’s music project, Eels. It’s a simple song, a pretty song, a love song, a song that (if not sung by a man who makes my life seem chirpy) would probably fit nicely in a Disney film. But fuck it. It’s a great song by a great musician. One that I’m sure must understand the completely fervent need, now and again, for a real pick me up and the conversation of a good friend with a beautiful soul.

Songs To Cure Depression :: DJ Format (Feat. Charli 2na & Akil) – ‘We Know Something’

“My brain cells have tweaked from insane levels of heat”

My God. Just sober up. A wise woman once told me “it makes it [the depression] feel a little less harsh if you’re drunk” and she was right, at least in the short term. But there has to be a way out of this with diving into a 75cl pool of liquid escapism. There has to be more. So, once again (and I realize this is getting somewhat repetitious), I’ll try to pull myself out of this constant inebriation, this life-binge of sorts, and break myself down into little-bitty chunks, build myself up again and be a real goddamn human being.

Though probably not, but it’s good to have hope, ideas of grandeur, even if it is pretty fucking obvious that nothing will come of it. Perhaps a day or two of head clearing, before diving back into the pits of drunken oblivion. And that’s only if I’m a lucky son of a bitch. But perhaps I’m missing the point, and instead I should be taking these baby steps and be happy with them. So here it goes, a three stage plan to tide me over at least until mid-week:

1. Burning bridges with all the people I seem to only get in touch with when drunk. A good start at being a wholesome moral person is not use people for your own goals. A good lay is not worth the nights of borderline insomnia, rattled by the guilt that you’ve once again give yourself up to someone you don’t see ANY form of foreseeable future with.

2. Fly straight. The beers in the fridge are not going to dematerialize if you leave them in there for a few more days and nights. It is much easier for the reaper to slice your spinal column and send you, paralyzed, straight to hell for an eternity of licking Satan’s sweat drenched scrotum if you’re far too drunk to even give a little chase.

3. Dj Format and (some of) Jurassic 5.

That was some tangent I took you off on, but we got here eventually and while we’re here we might as well talk a little about the music (I have to justify this somehow, right?) It was a toss up this week of either some good honest hip-hop or Simon and Garfunkel. The hip-hop won out. Because this is exactly what We Know Something is, good and honest. Dj Format and the J5 boys have, for quite some time now, been breaking all the stupid conventions of “rap,” that makes a bunch of rich white kids parents shit their pants repeatedly every time their
spoilt little bastard leaves the house and makes moron’s like 50 cent billionaires, by rapping about the REAL things in life, what REALLY matters in music. It isn’t guns, bling and bitches but instead love for the music, your friends and family, having a good time partying and yeah, probably a little about the “bitches” but fuck, we’d never call them that, we respect our women. Fuck gangbanging and “bigging up” real rap is about dancing and having a real nice time without hurting anyone in the process by being a cocky arsehole. If we could all take these words of advice into our day to day lives, the world would be a much better place, because we’d all be grooving like maniacs. Rant over.