There are some people who think that liking this type thang (sic) is done purely through irony and therefore deplore it as being another extension of meaningless postmodern borrowing harking back to a non-existent nostalgic past out of longing for any form or semblance of identity. My retort to such an accusation is thus: BORING.
I wish I was black and lived in Queens in the 80s and had disco balls for balls and it was acceptable to wear sequined spandex jumpsuits and multiple afro picks and high-tops and Kanye West hadn’t been invented yet and hip-hop was camp and my dad drove a taxi and knew everyone in the neighbourhood and we’d all get together and be like hey y’all and we’d eat home-cooked food and party in the street and never have to go to work and AIDS didn’t exist and it’d be great.
So yeah, maybe the fake nostalgia thing stands, and maybe I do struggle to feel like there’s a proper identity to 21st century western culture, but when shit’s this smooth I couldn’t care less.
Butter love in a hot tub yo. Daaaaang.
Catch more of him here: http://www.myspace.com/onra