Scene One: 11:30 PM on a Monday, I collapse into my desk chair exhausted from a day full of classes, meetings, deadlines, and missed meals. My unwieldy hair dribbles dewdrops of accumulated rain onto my decrepit wooden desk. I fire up the laptop, click on iTunes, and slowly spell out the alien words, “Swedish House Mafia.” Click, and the music pours forth from my speakers. Track 1, “Miami 2 Ibiza,” assaults me with a frenzied cacophony of thumping bass, screechy synth, and what sounds to be like a bad Kanye impersonator. “No,” I say to myself, tapping the spacebar to turn it off, “This is not what I want to hear right now.”
Scene Two: 8:00 PM on a Thursday, I am ready to rock. About 20 minutes ago, I pounded a Red Bull as I walked out of Ethics, and now sit anxiously (and twitchily) awaiting the arrival of a few buddies to get the night started after a long week. Fire up the iTunes and press play. My sage-like shuffle takes me to Track 11 (Satisfaction) on SHM’s new release “Until One,” and I suddenly find myself questioning my judgment in not installing a strobe light in the ceiling of my room. Strangely enough, my right hand forms a fist, and I soon find my whole arm pumping like an erratic piston above my head. Must be my Jersey roots.