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Wednesday 28 May 2014

Clean Birth

by Jared Woods

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - I guess the first thing I noticed was the ground beneath my bare feet.
I guess the first thing I noticed was the ground beneath my bare feet. It was about two meters wide and covered in a light mossy substance, yet still cold and hard, as bald patches betrayed a metal surface thinly disguised underneath. Even more curiously, this floor was moving forward slowly, casually propelling me towards an unknown destination, and this unnerved me. The words 'conveyor belt' flashed in my mind and I recognised the state of my own nudity, even if this had absolutely no definition for me.

I looked up and I was alone. A barely audible whirling noise vibrated beneath my ears and the word 'machinery' seemed appropriate. On either side of me there was nothing but endless white space, this platform suspended in an infinite emptiness, yet when I reached out towards it, my fingers hit what appeared to be a thick wall of transparent ... plastic? Glass? I could never know. It looked nice enough, and yet ... fake, in a way? Something didn’t seem right about it, as if it was an illusion, intended to look pleasant, but ultimately a cover up for a much more clinical reality. I pressed my nose against the surface and smelt gas until my eyes hurt. Despite the clean whiteness which appeared to extend forever, from this close up position I could distinctly detect greens and reds and blues which darted around my vision, and I quickly pulled back before I vomited.

As if some 'utensil' had been shoved into the part of my body I associated with my 'gut', all these weird uncertain emotions swirled within my core. Terms like 'fear' and 'panic' presented themselves to my mind, which brought nothing but further unknowns. I looked upwards for answers and noticed small panels about the size of my head fixed to the transparent walls a few feet above me, giving the deceptive impression that they were floating mid-air as they gradually passed me by, each set some distance apart whilst flickering images of what I understood to be 'flowers' and 'water' and other such pretty visuals. The inner cogs of my mind worked as if they knew there was something I was supposed to know, but there was nothing inside of me. Thoughts were things which I had quickly become acquainted with, but they could not tell me anything except for single words, like an empty dictionary void of explanations. But even that simile which my own mind had put forward in a show-off type manner, meant nothing. None of this meant anything.

My so-called head began to vibrate from an external source, and I associated this with a 'sound'; a 'noise'. And this was when things got even worse. Originally there had been this friendly vague concept of 'peace' which was now disrupted by this said 'noise', and I loathed these new ideas, as they coincided with the realisation that I was no longer alone.

Far from it, in fact. In this moment, I looked around, and concluded I was short in stature; a disadvantage in comparison to those who had suddenly appeared before me. This applied in particular to what could only be defined as a grotesque, oversized, elderly female seal creature immediately in front of me, her height towering many feet above mine. She was so large that the wet whiskers which drooped from her cheeks nearly dangled in line with my forehead, her head so hefty that it was wider than my entire body, and her eyes so spacious and high above me that she didn’t even notice I was there.

She slapped her fins into the moss, giddy with excitement, water dripping down her chin and coating a white pearl necklace in slime. She rolled on her stomach, side to side, as if she was on fire, sparkling earrings seemingly pierced into the side of her head dancing with her movements, a shining mess of excessive jewellery and horrifically wrinkled flaps of fat and skin. And each time she rocked from one side to the other (performing an atrocious bark while she did so, I may add), a salty stench of sewage wafted into my gag reflexes at which my eyes watered furiously, only just able to make out an endless set of assorted legs and tails and feet extending for miles behind her. There were a lot of bodies here, all behaving in the exact same animated style, dancing around naked, unabashedly delirious and enthusiastic. It was an upsetting sight, but nothing upset me more than the fact that I could not register exactly what these things were; the hyperactivity of noise and electrified atmosphere meant nothing to me. I had no ability to fathom what was happening or how I even knew the words for these things, as if my mind was begging for answers and yet my brain teased it, providing no response to its requests.

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - This went in particular for what could only be defined as a grotesque, oversized, elderly female seal creature who was immediately in front of me.
“Oh my Lawdie Lawdie, oh my Gawd, oh my Gaaaawd!” this elderly seal before me was articulating, and I looked closer to examine her weathered leather-like face bursting with brown glee as she frantically searched for someone to notice her without noticing me.

“Yes, it’s quite something, isn’t it?” a croaky voice over-pronounced from behind me, and I cautiously turned my head to notice a male human figure had been at my back this whole time. He, too, was of an older appearance, but seemed much healthier in a way; tufts of messy hair exposing his baldness, smooth skin, and a tall demeanour (yet still significantly shorter than the seal), all of which I enjoyed and associated with 'handsome'. Square cheeks were outlined by dimples and age crevices, eyes withered with fatigue but exploded with wisdom, and not to mention the almost comically sized grey moustache he sported, punctuating the center, so bushy and predominant that it hid his mouth and chin whilst its two end tails stretched beyond the level of his naval. But, my word, how did I know these things? Dimples? Moustache? Naval? What was this place? What was I?!

Regardless, the male’s composure was engrossing. His excitement was far less apparent than that of the seal’s, but the rise in his cheeks indicated a giant grin, flaunting his equal approval of this party. His body may have been worn by the years, but even with these physical casualties of age (complete with a slight protruding belly and small liver spots dotting his chest), his nudity revealed strong arms and a wide torso, standing in perfect posture, proud of its shape. I glanced through his hairy legs to note that, much like behind the giant seal, countless other body parts danced for miles beyond him, a single file queue on this noisy floating conveyor belt, suggesting I had been standing in my position for a very long time, perhaps even years.

“So, please do tell, madam,” he continued his posh conversation with the seal as if long lost friends, still oblivious to my presence. “What is the last thing you can recall?”
“Awh, awh!” the old seal barked to his attention, still acting out her hysterical belly dance as if she was half her age. “Well, let m’see here. I think mus’ ‘av gone on m’way ta bed on m’old rock a mile out o’ Practice Beach, y’know the one? I mus’ve been 85 years ol' if a day, m’thinks, a complete natural death, y’mus’ understand, no foul play or nuttin’, but ... awh! I’s very lonely, I’ll admit. I mean, I had m’grandchildren but they were always the busy type, very important creatures they were, but I forgot about ... about this! Oh Lawdie, how’d I always forget about this place here, every time I be forgettin’, but I knew it all along, didn’t I? Such a obvious thing, isn’t it? So great, so ... oh my Gawdddd!

She kept jabbering on, using words I understood without fully knowing how, with the exception of the word 'death'. Its very sound produced a hollow confusion in my abdomen, and I felt my curiosity once again override itself with 'fear'. This was not a nice feeling. A plastic wall to my right spluttered for a split second, and through the disruption I noted a glimpse of mechanical workings surrounding me before they were once again replaced by the serene image of endless whiteness. Above, the small panels now displayed videos of wide toothy smiles and terms like 'happiness' and 'calm', but I could not escape the devastating perception that none of these details applied to me. I didn’t belong here. Who were these people? Who was I? Why did I have such a definite grasp on all of these things without a single point of reference within my internal dialogue? And I guess you can only talk to yourself for so long before the frustration takes control, because without my consent, a small female voice bubbled up my throat and dove out for answers.

“Excuse me,” I scared myself. “Can someone please tell me just what is going on here?!”
The cheekbones of the man lowered as his gaze fell upon me. The excited movement of the seal lady hesitated as her expression focused on my presence. And there we stood for an uncomfortable amount of time, as if I’d just sworn against their God (whatever the hell that meant), exhausting me with more embarrassment and frustration.

The seal was the first to respond. She leant forward on her veiny flippers which seemed a little less veiny than before, and placed her chin to the ground, almost managing to align her enormous black eyes with mine as I turned to face her. “Hey there, li’l gal,” she addressed me, as her salty breath blew over me like a corpse wind. “And how’s it that you died?”

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - She leant forward on her veiny flippers which seemed a little less veiny than before, and placed her chin to the ground, almost managing to align her enormous black eyes with mine.
The word 'died' once again had no meaning, but the aura that resonated around it could have only been of the 'death' variation. She stared lovingly into my eyes, waiting for an answer, and I felt nauseous, now wishing I’d never opened my mouth. Something inwards felt foolish, all too aware that I was supposed to know the answer to her question, and yet nothing was inside of me. I mouthed a few silent vowels in an attempt to get anything out—anything at all—but I could not.

“C’mon, sweetie. We’re all here together now, don’t be shy, y’hear?” she pried. “What’s the last thing you can remember, child?” Her cracked facial expression lead by her grey whiskers and huge snout stared down at me with a hint of apprehension, and she looked a little bit younger now, somehow. And there I stood, gulping at the air like a fish, but what did I have to say? And what was a fish?

My useless attempt at vocalising my thoughts was interrupted when two large hands fell on my shoulders and gently massaged me. I looked upwards to see the face of the elderly man at my back, and while his smile had only recently warmed my observations, his touch now made me feel rigid and uncomfortable. When he spoke, his breath brushed the base of my neck and I suddenly hated him. “Speak, little girl. Pray do tell, how was it that you have come to die?”

“I don’t know what that means!” I shouted as I squirmed out of his grip. “I don’t know what any of this means! Who are you people?! Where am I?!

My scream echoed, rippling out into eternal space, and I could see many figures in the distance cease their celebration to take note of my outburst. Great, more attention, which only got much worse after the stupid elderly seal gasped with the following cry:

“Oh my Gawd, could it be? Could this here gal be ... a Clean Birth? Well, I ain’t never seen a Clean Birth before! Guess she’ll be about the right size, if I ‘ad a think about it...”
With those words, a whole audience clamoured towards and practically closed in on me, a hundred depths of eyes examining me like a team of surgeons. The excited voices rose like before, but now as delirious murmurs, inaudible phrases smothering me, with only the frequent mutter of “Clean Birth, Clean Birth” detectable.

“Stand back! Stand back, I say! You’re scaring her, for Pete’s sake!” the man behind me demanded authority, and his strict voice appeared to make an impact. Many observers obeyed by turning their sides to us, pretending to converse with one another whilst still maintaining a keen corner of an eye upon me. It was annoying and awkward, yet still an improvement. With that, the elderly man gently turned me around to face him, placing his hands on my shoulders again, his left thumb resting on my breast which I somehow knew wasn’t right. He crouched to my level, his face close to mine, and while his dimples were still apparent and the ends of his feathery moustache touched the floor, the lines on his face looked shallower than they had been only moments ago. I felt the urge to spit into his eyes but he halted my thought process by addressing me in a quieter manner, speaking much more sense in the midst of the chaos.

“Please do talk with me, little one. Before this place you see here, do have any memories? Is this platform where you stand now, the only place you can ever recall standing? Do you have a name? Do you even know what this means?”

“No!” I cried from clenched teeth. “I know what nothing means! I remember nothing! I was just here all of a sudden and I have absolutely no idea why! What is happening? Who are you people?!”

“This one’s a Clean Birth here, alright!” the seal lady announced, and the surrounding crowd in the audible distance nearly responded with a cheer, until the man shot a dirty look upwards to silence them. This gave me a chance to shift my position, his thumb no longer on my chest which I recognised as an undeveloped area due to my 'age', and also wondered why it bothered me so? It was whatever his intentions were, I decided, and vaguely became aware that I didn't like this man, yet there was no point in turning away. He was more than likely the only one who could help me grasp this mess, I was certain of it.

“Darling little girl,” he began my education. “Where you are now, is an extraordinary place indeed. For this is a place between places—the bridge, if you will—which connects the end with the beginning. For you see, it is here where we—you, me, her, and everyone around you—have our energy reorganised and washed clean, our defining characteristics and experiences labeled and neatly packaged within us, assigning qualities and worth to our Source before we are ready to be once more released back onto our planet.”

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - With that, the elderly man gently turned me around to face him, placing his hands on my shoulders again, his left thumb resting on my breast which I somehow knew wasn’t right.
“It is a fascinating procedure, sweetheart, and in order to comprehend its complexities, you must recognise the two aspects of which make up all of life: Birth and Death. Me, myself, for example, have died and been reborn no less than 137 times.”

“137 times!” the elderly seal interrupted. “This here be only m’29th time, it is! Firstly, I can recall I was a pottery makin’ bacteria livin’ in a poverty stricken river, fairly dull life if y'ask me, m’death that of a working accident, silly fool I was, then after that I believe I was a wife of a Sky Prince, oooh, we were so important him and me were, royalty and all that, such a time, the best life yet, I think, and after that I...”

“Silence, please, madam,” the man raised his hand. “We are in the presence of a Clean Birth, have some courtesy.” The old seal quickly held her gigantic tongue, and the man took back my attention by looking into my face once more, his moustache measurably smaller than it was before, the ends now far from tickling the moss.

“You notice this moving ground beneath us?” he continued. “Where this is headed, is a spectacular plain we like to call ‘Earth’. This ‘Earth’ is an incredible location, one which breathes more births and deaths above any other place we are aware of. These two factors are certainties in all individuals who enter the world, and in conjunction with the countless experiences which come between them, is what we define as 'Life'. It is everything; sometimes beautiful and happy, other times rather difficult and scary, but always bursting with opportunities. Different lands to explore, people to love, thoughts to think and develop—but all of which is waiting for us at the end of this here moving platform.”

By the time his talk had trailed off at the last word, he sighed and his eyes dropped towards the floor. It was here now I realised my face was tense, scrunched into a contorted mess to echo my confusion. All of this was too much, I could hardly get my head around what this had to do with me and my being here, and I guess this showed more than I’d intended it to, my suspicions confirmed when the seal piped up her opinion with “I ain’t sure there’s no easy way to explain this to nobody, not a Clean Birth, fo’sure”. The man raised his hand without raising his eyes, and tried again.

“Let me put this another way for you, child. In a rather short time, the pure energy which you are made up of right now alongside with all the other energies you see around you here—like this lady or me—will be summoned by Life, which is ushered in by the simple act of a male’s seed and a female’s counterpart egg, connecting as one. When this happens, we will leave these grounds to be grown inside of what is called 'a womb'; like a home which develops a physical shell around the very energy you feel now. Once this shell has sufficiently trapped the data which you carry with you, in conjunction with some brand new genetical data based on those who had unintentionally called upon you, then and only then will your new Life be ready for release into the world—this place called ‘Earth’. Once free from the womb, you will find yourself open and willing to capture as much knowledge as you can, not for yourself, mind you, but as a researcher for the Universal Consciousness, a bank of knowledge which is used to connect and develop all things that exist and continue to exist in every possible realm. This shall continue until you have reached your full potential, and once at that point, you will ultimately be destroyed on a physical level, ready to be recycled once more, placed back on this platform for the preparation of yet another Life. Do you understand me so far?”

I thought I did, sort of, but the idea scared me. I had no concept of this Earth place, or what my mission would entail, and I told the man so. “It hardly seems fair,” I challenged. “I will surely be at a disadvantage if what you say is true. You remember 137 deaths? And yet I cannot recall a single one! How will I know where to begin? What kind of a mission will this be if I have no idea how to achieve it? Oh, please, help me, Mr Man! What am I supposed to do?”

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - To this the everyone laughed, including those bystanders who were pretending not to listen, which gave me a fright and I hated it.
To this the everyone laughed, including those bystanders who were pretending not to listen, which gave me a fright and I hated it. The surrounding screens too popped with inanimate photos of laughing children and fireworks (perhaps an annoying show just for me?) and even the old man chuckled in my face. That is, except he didn’t look that old anymore. Rather, he appeared to be very different than when we first met, which I found comforting in a peculiar way. His moustache was now a messy fistful of hair barely overflowing his chin and the former cracks to the side of his eyes were just surface lines, scarcely noticeable.

“Do not fear yourself with such things, little one, as I will explain. For rest assured, once your energy has been called upon and you are placed within the womb I spoke of, you will find yourself inside of a being you will come to understand as your mother, inside of her stomach, right here,” he paused to tap a finger on my belly, as if I didn’t already have a definition for that word. “As I told you, it is there where your new physical form shall develop until you are ripe enough to escape, and when this time comes, you, like all of us, will be consuming Earth for the very first time from those particular set of physical eyes. The experience may be traumatic, but soon you will learn to adore your new surroundings and adapt to the strange new feelings. You will find your mind bombarded with smells and emotions, all of which will confuse and overwhelm you, but even more so, will fascinate and invigorate you, as you start to grasp the physics of the unfamiliar world. And it is during this time that the memory of this place you stand now will begin to fade and ultimately disappear. The moss you stand on, the hum you hear, the conversation we are having, and the memories of any past lives shall be pushed deep inside of your energy data, quick to clear room for the new Earthly environment, ensuring you can make sense of it without obstacles.”

“So you see, whilst past lives may develop characteristics within your Source which may dictate aspects of your lives to follow, it does not matter whether you’ve died a million times or if you are a Clean Birth, such as yourself. Essentially, we all enter each new life free from the past and at the exact same vantage point, no matter how unfair it may initially appear.”

During this speech, I began to take in-depth note of the man’s face. His moustache was all but gone except for a few tiny bristles, and while hints of his previous features were still apparent, he was a much plainer version of his former self. The pupils of his eyes had been lost in new black craters which filled the majority of his head, while his recently exposed smile had shrunk into an almost lipless straight line, curled upwards into his grey skin to still indicate happiness. Even more peculiar was that of his stature, which had shrunk significantly, now almost at the same height as mine. I glanced backwards quickly at the elderly seal lady for affirmation, but she too had changed at a very similar rate, her body a weird disproportionate shape as if stuck somewhere between that of a seal and a human, her age indeterminate, her skin now much lighter in colour and smoother in texture. She smiled, and her mouth was no longer an abysmal pit towering above me, but rather a warped crack almost in line with my eyebrows. Her decreased size meant my view was much less obstructed, and I could clearly see behind her where stood rows and rows of almost the exact same creature; once an assorted mix of varied looking animals, now developing and settling into a much more default and uniform state. Yet they seemed not to notice, as they continued to bounce from foot to foot, no longer concerned with the fascination they once held for me, jittery in conversation, reaching higher pitches of fever.

Logically, one would assume such a sight would scare me, but curiously the contrary was true. My stomach churned with enthusiastic anticipation and I felt static flutter outward from my core right down into my fingertips, like I was covered in a blanket made from spider webs and pins, and for a change I felt euphoric without even knowing what that was. My breaths pulled in deep and with each one I sank further into love with the uncertainty. I began to giggle and, almost as if on cue, laughter erupted from these grey beings all around me, in unison.

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - I could see clearly behind her where stood rows and rows of almost the exact same creature; once an assorted mix of varied looking animals, now developing and settling into a much more default and uniform state.
“It’s really something, isn’t it?” asked the once elderly man as he continued to smile. “It won’t be long now.” To this I laughed even louder, astounded that a few mere moments before I had found this man’s demeanour intimidating and even sexual, but now he pulsed with love and I reciprocated by beaming my smile towards him. What was I thinking? Nothing could threaten me. Nothing could disconcert me. And yet, even in these moments of bliss and acceptance, I still wanted more answers.

“But wait, mister,” I addressed him though my giddiness. “What exactly is a Clean Birth? What makes me one? Is it because I have no memories?”

The man stood upright and was only a few inches taller than me, as he placed his long grey fingers on his protruding belly and gave off a high pitched shriek of glee. “Oh, because you are very special, little friend!” he exclaimed. “It’s a simple program, really. For once a life has reached its natural conclusion on Earth and passed out of that realm, most end back in this place we stand right now. This wonderful place! But not all of them. Some energies have lived such fantastic lives that they are sent to areas much more advanced than this one, where their Source will be used for a greater purpose, you understand? Conversely, there are those who have built up so much nastiness in their lifetimes that their soul will forever remain imprinted by evil, and are no longer fit to be granted access to this place ever again, damned to an eternity where their soul shall be quarantined in much darker regions. Can you imagine? Never coming here again? Oh!”

At some point during this explanation I had glanced down to notice my own body had too turned to a light shade of grey. My fingers were much longer and bonier than before, and my stomach had bloated. In front of me, the man no longer looked anything like his former self, nor could I recall what he’d looked like before. Rather, what stood in front of me was the same height as myself; completely bald, two huge black holes for eyes, filled with love, and two pin-pricked nostrils underlined by a thin, barely moveable mouth. His head was almost the size of his torso, which was decorated with bulging ribs and a large belly. What’s more, behind him stood an endless row of creatures identical to him in every minute detail. It was here, I concluded, I myself must look exactly like these people too (special, my ass!), and this made me laugh even louder, which the formerly old man took as a response to his story, which he eagerly resumed.

“But you! You Clean Birth! You are brand spanking new! You are untouched! For you see, every time a soul is deemed unfit for this reproduction—whether for reasons of greater purpose or damnation—the system must be regulated. There must always be a specific amount of energy limited to Earth and it must always remain the same. And that’s where you come in, young one. A pristine soul, free of past experiences and memories, ripe for your very first leap into physical manifestation, fresh energy to fill the gap left behind by a Source which no longer qualifies for reincarnation. Isn’t that exciting? The very energy you feel and the very energy you are, is only now beginning its journey of eternal and infinite realms of rebirths and deaths! I recall my first round fondly, and, oh, am I so jealous! I do wish terribly I could be here for your first passing and glorious moment of remembrance which awaits you here, but alas, the logistics of our souls ever meeting or recognising each other again are next to...”

He continued to ramble but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, as if his voice had been drowned by fur until it had turned white and dissolved, and then there was nothing. No hum of machinery, no group hysterics, no sound at all. Instead, I felt my breathing leap up into my throat while my lungs closed inside of me. Dizziness overflowed in my gut but it did not detract from the overwhelming buzz of happiness which lifted my toes from the conveyor belt. It’s difficult to explain, but the last thing I recall is looking down at my long grey fingers as they pixelated into tiny squares and began to come apart, losing shape. I was falling to pieces! My atoms were no longer sticking together, drifting aside like bits of rice in water. A few moments later, I felt my core shoot downwards into a concentrated point like I had been turned into liquid and forced out of a syringe, all of which I would understand eventually.

The Goat's Nest Short Stories Presents: Clean Birth - I felt my core shoot downwards into a concentrated point like I had been turned into liquid and forced out of a syringe.
That was me leaving the in between realm as my designated father's sperm connected with my designated mommy’s egg and demanded my spirit as the electricity to spark the physical growth of their child; me, their daughter. And thanks to that elderly man, I knew what was going on. I thought about him all the time whilst I was in the womb as my face formed features and my fingernails grew. Who was he before? Who was he going to be now? He was a bit weird, but was he essentially a good man? It felt like an eternity of contemplation where I realised that being a Clean Birth came with the curse of having no memories to dwell upon and to distract oneself with during this lengthy period of waiting. And then one day, my little water cage erupted around me and I was born into the world, ironically anything but a clean birth, covered in uterus wax and nearly choking to death by my own umbilical cord. I admit, I cried. They had to place me in an incubator to keep an eye on me for a week or two, but I wasn’t bothered. I was here! I had arrived! I had been born! Sights and smells and noises flooded my mind, and it was hilarious. I got better soon enough too, and my mother took me home.

It’s funny what people don’t know. When you are living inside of your mother’s tummy, you are, in fact, at your most knowledgable. You remember past lives and so many secrets of the world, life and death. All newborns are holy people for, in general, they have just come from a crowded place of blissful souls and epiphanies. But as their developing brains digest their new surroundings, they are quick to forget about these places, this memory lapse designed as a defence mechanism, the mind now much more concerned with this new life’s challenges, experiences and interactions. It’s silly when you know this, but it’s also imperative in the evaluation of the quality of one’s soul, giving the freedom of ignorance and the illusion that this is the One Life. It was how the gods judged you and appraised your role in the greater battles of everything. And I get that.

As I grew and recognised the role of my mother and learned to speak, the memory of the elderly man was lost, forced into that compartment of my soul which would only be liberated after life. And when it did, I appreciated the man, as he spent his 137th death not in the bliss of remembrance as it was intended, but rather explaining the finer details of the cycle to me. And everything he said was almost completely accurate, apart from one detail: I would never end back upon that conveyor belt. For I was, indeed, special after all.

They gave me the name Macy Dull. This is the beginning of my story.


Wednesday 30 April 2014

The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time

(according to me)

The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time
Back when Juice Nothing was but a seed without much water or fertile soil, I used to exorcise my creative writing demons by vomiting my thoughts onto Facebook, well aware that none of my real life friends cared all that much, but also conscious that if these words didn’t get out of my head, they would form a Satanic cancer which would consume my brain and eventually cause me to hurt myself and everyone else around me. I tell you these things, because they connect this here article to the very very first original “Juice Nothing” piece I ever wrote back in 2007 (predating this whole blog by almost three years), titled My Top 100 Songs... EVER!. It sucked, and ever since then, I have dreamt of the day I could rectify that exposure of my terrible tastes and perhaps save the good side of my face before I got too old. Today, this dream comes true.

But let it be know that there is a huge difficulty in tackling such a monstrous topic, and the obvious issues still apply to my second attempt. Opinions change as we get older. I know the moment I click the Publish button, an army of decent choices will invade my brain, and I will suffer in sympathy for those whom I somehow forgot on the battlefield. It’s a tough life being a blogger, you know. But rather than torture myself and spend a million years trying to perfect this list (which is how long I would need, give or take a few years), I simply resigned to my lazy attitude and chose the first ones that came to mind and persisted, which (let’s face it) will probably be the most worthy choices anyway.

But before we get it on, I need to vent about something else quix. You see, a few times during my writing “career”, I have been accused of playing it safe by picking classics rather than exclusively focusing on my own developed tastes (The Top 50 Greatest Albums Ever, anyone?). Well, I can’t really help it if popular opinion seems to follow my every word, can I? Regardless, this round I decided to purposefully avoid anything which could be considered "predictable", hence why all of the below choices are songs I consider somewhat overlooked or forgotten by the general public, and which also probably means you won’t like any of them. It's a risk, and so in advance, please look at all the fucks I give: I give about twelve fucks, on average. Look at them! However, if you are interested in which songs were disqualified for being too obvious, click here or just scroll to the bottom of the article once you've read everything else. I’m sure you will like those much better and perhaps my reputation will remain intact after all.

Finally, for maximum pleasure, I recommend you listen to each song while you read their relevant entries, because that’s how they were written. Turn the page at the sound of the gong. Please don’t bend the paper, use a bookmark. For heaven’s sake, Richard, that’s not a toy. This is your problem now.



The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 20. Hide and Seek (Imogen Heap, 2005)
20. Hide And Seek (Imogen Heap, 2005)
Art Pop, A Cappella

Rumours behind this track’s creation are easy to find and impossible to verify. Some claim it’s about the effect of divorce on children, based on Imogen’s own sad life experiences. Others simply theorise that Heap’s computer broke, and she was forced to experiment using her vocals only, relying heavily on (the all too often abused) vocoder manipulation to get her point across. But regardless of backstories, we can all appreciate the difficulties such a melodramatic composition would entail. The calming production is borderline therapeutic; the poetic lyrics paint some of the most expressive scenes I’ve ever heard; and the melodies are so delicately alluring that everything falls effortlessly into a neat little package, perhaps even a “perfect” package, perhaps perhaps. Yes, some will be quick to call it overplayed and far too many will think exclusively of when Marissa shot Trey, but none of these things truly matter. What truly matters is this: the Mt Eden remix of this track finally woke me up as to what good dubstep was, and you never forget favours like that.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 19. Golden Brown (The Stranglers, 1982)
19. Golden Brown (The Stranglers, 1982)
New Wave

For humour's sake, let’s pick apart the conflicting reports surrounding the subject matter of this hypnotic waltz (one which we have all already come to adore, I'm sure). The most obvious (and more than likely, true) story revolves around heroin addiction: brown being the drug’s common street name, not to mention the euphoric warmth of the composition, which I guess one would expect from the substance’s trademark repetitiveness. And yet many have argued that it's about singer Hugh Cornwell’s then girlfriend and her Mediterranean golden brown skin, which is also rather plausible, as the song’s pleasurable embrace and deceptive attractiveness is easy to relate to the ups and downs of romantic relationships. And yet drummer Jet Black swears it’s about Marmite on toast, which kinda makes sense too because it’s delicious and also has that wonderful love-hate reputation going on for it. But whether smack or love or breakfast, this hookless masterpiece definitely hides some darkness within itself, a haunting sadness which makes you smile and then feel guilty about smiling only to realise everyone else was already smiling anyway. Hence why it topped charts all over the world, eventually hitting #2 in the UK, the band’s highest to date, and (let’s face it) probably forever.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 18. Popular (Nada Surf, 1996)
18. Popular (Nada Surf, 1996)
Alternative Rock

A controversial choice, I am fully aware, but this Pavement-esque treasure based on the 1964 self-help book Penny's Guide to Teen-Age Charm and Popularity by Gloria Winters changed my life. Sure, at first the deadpan spoken word verses appear to be some sarcastic high school advice aimed exclusively at teenage girls, but as the vocals escalate into more enthusiastic shouts of eager intensity, I began to realise that this was not a song whatsoever. This was a life lesson. And so I pushed the humour aside and I learnt the lyrics word for word (as difficult as that was) until it became my Bible, and before I knew it, I was getting laid, like, all the time. I’ve been laid like maybe a thousand times now.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 17. Les Fleurs (Minnie Riperton, 1971)
17. Les Fleurs (Minnie Riperton, 1971)
Soul Jazz

Minnie’s career is a lot like her debut single. It didn’t chart and was painfully overlooked by critics, reflected in this song’s verses: so quiet that they hardly feel like they are there, tiptoeing passed even the most perceptive of listeners. And yet as this song (and her life) continues, it begins to build up momentum, exploding into a chorus so orgasmic and uplifting that one could easily label it as “spiritual”. Before anyone knew it, she was singing backup for Chuck Berry and Muddy Waters, while her own songs suddenly began to chart, even hitting #1 at times. Her smooth voice and timeless soul seemed like it would go on forever, until that fateful day when she was abruptly diagnosed with breast cancer, dying at the young age of 31, a life ending long before it should’ve, so similar to this song which could be looped indefinitely without protest. As a result, Les Fleurs (and Riperton) are tragically overlooked and unwritten about, and yet those who know these songs worship them as classics, including electronic group 4hero who covered this track so faithfully that you can barely hear the difference whatsoever. Because you can’t fuck with perfection.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 16. Chick Habit (April March, 1995)
16. Chick Habit (April March, 1995)
Pop Rock

When a performer is better known for her animation work on such heavyweight productions as Ren & Stimpy, Archie Comics and Pee-wee's Playhouse, one would imagine her interpretation of Serge Gainsbourg’s classic to be about as appealing as a candy fishhook. And you’d be correct. But when gently pushing the cute vocals, rolling basslines and banging wind instruments aside, it’s the interesting choice of word translations which really leaped out into my happy antenna. Originally a French tune titled Laisse tomber les filles (translation: “leave the girls alone”), it’s so perfect for the English version to have somehow found itself instructing us to “hang up the chick habit”. I mean, who says stuff like that? April March, that’s who. And when Tarantino fell in love with the track and featured it in his 2007 film Death Proof, we can easily understand why it continues to skyrocket into such higher realms of popularity. Because it sounds like a movie all by itself! One seemingly made many years before its time, sharpened into a sugar bullet and racing straight into our hungry bellies, abandoning us while we bled out in joy.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 15. I Put A Spell On You (Nina Simone, 1965)
15. I Put A Spell On You (Nina Simone, 1965)
Soul Jazz

Before 1956, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins was a fairly passionate blues performer, but upon recording I Put A Spell On You (after drinking a load of alcohol), he changed. He began to act demented, wearing long capes and rising out from a coffin on stage, influencing shock rock performers for decades to come, including Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath and Marilyn Manson. As a result, the song has been covered by a wide variation of artists, such as The Animals, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Iggy Pop, and the aforementioned Manson (as well as being sampled by The Notorious B.I.G.), yet no one interpreted the song with as much elegance and sex appeal as Nina Simone. She understood the concept on a deeper level, taming the original irony and seducing its comicalness into one fucking evil love song. And within its quiet subtleness, it was more wicked, more creepy, more witchy, and much more curse-like than what Screamin’ Jay had managed to produce all those years before. Basically said, it put a spell on me and many others, even The Beatles’ citing it as the main inspiration for their 1965 track Michelle.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 14. O Superman (Laurie Anderson, 1981)
14. O Superman (Laurie Anderson, 1981)
Experimental Art Pop

What really surprised me upon researching for O Superman, was that this Laurie Anderson landmark managed to hit the #2 spot on the UK Singles chart. Huh? Impossible! How the fuck could such a sparse eight minute long song which is essentially a phone conversation between a narrator and a mysterious mechanical voice, driven almost exclusively by bird noises and vocoder vocals (before it was cool), ever reach such a state of commercial success? I mean, sure, the politically charged humour is more poetic than anything else in the world, and, yeah, sure, the deeply spaced out execution still sounds like it’s from the future to this very day ... but this is hardly a song! It’s a trip! It’s a mindfuck! One of which conjures up sad imagery of robots crying, paradoxically challenged by an aura of motherly optimism! How could this ever be so highly regarded in the eyes of the public? But then I read that according to the book The Rock Lists Album, O Superman was generally rated as readers’ least favourite hit single of 1981. Thank God for that! I am still part of the elite!


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 13. Oh, Me (Nirvana, 1994)
13. Oh, Me (Nirvana, 1994)
Acoustic Rock

Upon designing the set for Nirvana’s one-take MTV Unplugged in New York performance, Cobain requested the scene be set up as if a funeral. Five months later, the man was dead, and so it’s of no wonder why this album reminds me of loss; of melancholy; and the fragility of being human. This can be owed, in part, to Kurt’s nervousness and drug withdrawal before the show, resulting in cracked vocals, missed pitches, and other such imperfections, all of which made it that more perfect, and all of which could be applied so very aptly to the criminally overlooked Meat Puppets cover, Oh, Me. Somehow hearing something different to the weird comedic mess of the original, Kurt reimagined the piece, slowing everything down into a dysfunctional yet comforting harmony, sinking hearts within the first four opening notes, and continuing the descent until we were all but drowned to death. The tender pace, the stripped back intimacy, and even the modest solo conspired against me; glorifying suicide, romanticising drug addiction, and taking advantage of my then teenage depression to grow as my biggest musical influence to date. Which is why, for the record, I request this song to be played at my funeral. Thanks.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 12. Tiny Dancer (Elton John, 1972)
12. Tiny Dancer (Elton John, 1972)
Piano Rock

Even if this classic is blasphemously underappreciated (it never hit above #15 in any country) and even if the Bernie Taupin penned lyrics are talking about sleeping with groupies, the real reason why this song stands out in my heart is its complete disregard to pop formula. For starters, it’s over six minutes in length, and yet feels like it’s under half that time whilst still remaining timeless for all eternity. Furthermore, it teases you, the chorus only arriving after two minutes and 30 seconds, which is an epic amount of time to wait especially when you know what is coming. Because what is coming ... is one of the most joyous explosions, in, all, of, music, HISTORY! I jump to my feet, extend my fingers to the sun and spin around like nobody is watching! Listen to the prettiness of the falsetto vocal melody! Listen to the driving charm of the piano keys! Listen to the layers upon layers of sounds which take multiple examinations to notice! It’s that scene in Almost Famous! It’s that Tony Danza joke! It’s fucking Elton John before he became shite, mate!!!


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 11. Kim (Eminem, 2000)
11. Kim (Eminem, 2000)
Horrorcore

It’s hard to call a relationship “healthy” when the on-and-off boyfriend writes a sick love-song detailing a fantasy where he drags his daughter’s mother into the woods and then slits her throat 'til death do them part. But this prequel to 97 Bonnie & Clyde (a previously released song where Eminem dumps the corpse into the ocean) does just that, shoving you into the middle of their disturbing animosity and personal suffering in the most nauseating of ways. The lyrics spit with bile of hatred and spite, revealing both sides of Eminem’s personality (the lost, vulnerable, heartbroken victim; and the vengeful, violent, irrationally furious murderer), all the while imitating Kim’s voice with a performance so genuinely desperate it doesn’t sound like an act whatsoever. It is the epitome of horrorcore, the flows are never once sacrificed in favour of the story or vice versa, and the connection to his real life is so blunt that Kim herself even attempted suicide after hearing it. All of which contributes as to why this song is borderline unlistenable yet still stands as the centerpiece for the fastest selling hip hop album of all time, and I can hardly fathom anyone would even write something like this. Hence why I love/hate it so much.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 10. No More I Love You's (Annie Lennox, 1995)
10. No More “I Love You's” (Annie Lennox, 1995)
Pop

Originally written by The Lover Speaks, there is a unique flavour surrounding this super-dark pop song which doesn’t quite sit right somewhere inside of me. Best experienced in conjunction with the disconcerting music video, the tune reflects some sort of a 19th century brothel where romance and sexuality comes hand in hand with hidden agendas; where bizarre fetishes you’d never thought about intrigue you; and where the overall experience leaves you feeling appalled, used, and dirty. But even when it alienated us with its dainty sadness and lunatic vocal deliveries, it still managed to reach far and wide, winning the Best Female Pop Vocal Grammy Award (the first for a British lass), hitting #2 on the UK charts (Lennox’s highest), and as a result, is often considered to be somewhat “overplayed”. Don’t believe me? Try this test at home: walk up to a stranger and sing “doobi doobi doop doop doop”. Nine out of ten will respond with an automatic “ah-ah”. That, my friends, is called an infection.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 09. Little Boxes (Malvina Reynolds, 1967)
09. Little Boxes (Malvina Reynolds, 1967)
Contemporary Folk

After a pleasant walk around the countryside, your granny sits you down in her warm living room and hands you a cup of tea with a dry cracker, her small way of coaxing you into spending more time with her, granting her someone to talk to for just that much longer. She begins to speak about how different things were back in her day, sharing political insight about living in the 1920s middle-class suburbia. The development of uniformity, the conformist attitudes, the shoddy material used to construct low quality house upon low quality house, crammed together without any distinguishing features nor regard to personal comfort. And while she mutters along, you can’t help but smile politely at her satirical antidotes, all too aware that her outdated wisdoms are coated with love and her intentions come from the right place. She doesn’t realise that her ancient slang is adorable at best, and that her own sanctimonious smugness smells a bit preachy, but who cares? All good political stuff is a supposed to be a little bit stubborn, isn't it? And at least she sounds sweet while she does it.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 08. Kool Thing (Sonic Youth, 1990)
08. Kool Thing (Sonic Youth, 1990)
Alternative Noise Rock

As if you ever needed any more proof that Kim Gordon is too cool for school (or anything else for that matter), here’s something: a feminist anthem of damaging proportions; the band’s first single on a major label; that perfect mix of expensive production and the trademark Youth noise; all with a backstory to match. During an interview between Gordon and LL Cool J, the artists clashed over the issue of gender equality, causing Kim so much frustration that she wrote this song, her playfully insulting response to the man. It slyly referenced many of his tracks, but above that, contained some of the most sticky quotables I’ve ever heard, in particular the lines: “Hey kool thing, come here. Sit down beside me. There's something I gotta ask ya. I just wanna know, what are you gonna do for me? I mean, are you gonna liberate us girls from male white corporate oppression? Huh? Don't be shy. Fear of a female planet? I just want you to know that we can still be friends. When you're a star, I know that you'll fix everything.” It’s no wonder, then, that this is currently my most listened to track ever, according to Last.FM.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 07. Windowlicker (Aphex Twin, 1999)
07. Windowlicker (Aphex Twin, 1999)
IDM

As Aphex Twin’s highest charting single, this creepy erratic masterpiece is well-known within all genre circles, and yet very few truly understand the genius behind it. For example: when run through a spectrogram, there an image of his face hidden within the wave frequencies. Or that the tune comes with a beautifully unsettling 10 minute long music video directed by Chris Cunningham; a parody of American gangsta hip hop, showing two young black men window shopping for women, aware that the French term for window shopping itself is faire du lèche-vitrine (literally "licking the windows"). And of course, these women are not normal, their sexy bodies contradicted by their faces which morph into Aphex Twin’s own recognisable face, later joined by one particularly ugly female based on the likeness of H. R. Giger’s sketch The Windowlickers. But even without this knowledge, no one can deny the complex and unpredictable nature of this memorable track, which invigorates attention by occasionally presenting accessible intelligence, but usually completely destroys all comfort with sex samples and distorted noises that no one could possibly prepare for. Hence why this song was my ringtone for many many years, and hence why each time I hear it I apprehensively touch my pocket in fear.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 06. I Was Hoping (Alanis Morissette, 1998)
06. I Was Hoping (Alanis Morissette, 1998)
Alternative Rock

After releasing the biggest selling album of the 1990s, Alanis was shoved into an awkward corner: the impossible task of following up a genuine modern day classic. But instead of doing the predictable and offering us yet another angst-fueled attack, she stepped sideways from expectations and tried to find a spiritual place within her newfound mega superstardom. And no other song from her critically acclaimed yet repulsively underrated album Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie applies to this definition more than I Was Hoping. By utilising barely audible noises and hip hop percussion, as well as rejecting formulaic repetitiveness and shunning anything mainstream, she managed to create a deep atmosphere which was primarily strung along by her vulnerable and introspective lyrics. They tell an autobiographical narrative which reads like a conversation, wandering along the path of self realisation, yet still completely lost and unashamed of that fact. It’s wise, it’s articulate, it’s educational, and it drips with an aura of desperate sadness which is so intelligent, so emotional, and so very disconcerting that it hurts. But if you (like many) cannot swallow this darker side of your 90s icon, you may find relief in the equally brilliant and (only slightly) lighter version of this track on her MTV Unplugged album.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 05. Super Mario Bros. Theme (Koji Kondo, 1985)
05. Super Mario Bros. Theme (Koji Kondo, 1985)
Video Game Music

It shouldn’t surprise you that this piece was a very difficult thing to construct. For armed with nothing but a small keyboard and a Latin rhythm, Japanese video game musician genius Koji Kindo was forced to make many small changes throughout the process, often scrapping entire drafts when the Super Mario game itself took on a new direction. But I think I speak for the whole world when I say that such a pedantic attitude was totally worth it, for even if its continuous melody changes and technical complexities should make it next to impossible to remember (YouTube people drumming to it for full effect), it’s anything but. So much so, that it has been called the “most famous, memorable theme in the world” as well as the “greatest video game song ever”, a few publications correctly stating that “every single person growing up in the 80s can hum it note for note”. Even Kondo himself expressed doubt that he could ever make something as infectious ever again, but I can’t blame him. It’s arguably the catchiest-as-fuck and joyous-to-the-max composition I’ve ever heard in my life, especially when considering the limitations of an 8-bit sound, and so full marks and high scores for all.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 04. Good Morning, Captain (Slint, 1991)
04. Good Morning, Captain (Slint, 1991)
Post-Hardcore, Math Rock

Telling the tale of a sea captain apologising to a little boy while the ship sinks during a storm (based on Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner), this two chord magnum opus seems almost symbolic to the band themselves. During the climactic chorus (which The Guardian unsurprisingly compared to Stairway to Heaven, as it’s one of the best deliveries in music, period), singer McMahan became physically ill due the strain of his yells, and then the band broke up directly afterwards, one member reportedly checking himself into a psychiatric hospital because of how taxing the production of this album was. And it’s not hard to hear why. The mathy bassline almost sounds out of tune, the awkward off-beat drumming feels claustrophobic and panicky, the whispery vocals are hardly there, and the whole loud/soft dynamic is so overwhelmingly intense that it shreds at my insanity to the point of delirious goosebumps, without ever going too far over the top. It’s so desperate and strange that I disintegrate into nausea and tears, gasping for air as this song finishes off one of the most epic albums I’ve ever heard in my life.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 03. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Theme (Jon Brion, 2004)
03. Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind Theme (Jon Brion, 2004)
Modern Classical

Despite having worked with Kanye West, Dido and Fiona Apple (to name very few), Jon Brion is an unfairly unknown composer. That said, the romance of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (starring Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet) is exceptionally popular, calculated as the second most critically acclaimed film of the 2000s with a Rotten Tomatoes approval rating of 93%. And this special theme song represents the vibe completely. With such key-driven sadness and warped backwards background noises, it is the epitome of beautiful (probably the most beautiful piano piece I’ve ever heard, if I'm willing to say that out loud), touching my heartache and spreading an irrational longing for death throughout my emotions. For these reasons, this is the second and final song on this list which I publicly state and beg of you: please play it at my funeral. I want to hear it when I die. I want to listen to it on repeat forever.


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 02. The Chauffeur (Duran Duran, 1982)
02. The Chauffeur (Duran Duran, 1982)
New Romantic

Duran Duran have a weird reputation, often disregarded as some 80s synthpop boyband who have dated badly and are too old to dance. And this is true. However, this judgement does not apply to their 1982 album Rio, or even more importantly, the dark album’s closer, known simply as The Chauffeur. Delivered by signature laid back vocals, the poetic lyrics tell the story of a driver, his female passenger, and a hot car, all transported via intricate basslines, eerie sound effects and retro discomforts, perpetually building up and teasing you until the moment they casually stab you in your windpipe. Oh what a sexy murder! What a horrific romance! What a passionate way to choke on your own blood! I knew we shouldn’t have gone to the roller disco tonight, darling!


The 20 Greatest Songs Of All Time: 01. Goodbye Horses (Q Lazzarus, 1988)
01. Goodbye Horses (Q Lazzarus, 1988)
Synth Pop

I could easily go on about how Q Lazzarus was a taxi driver before getting involved with this underappreciated song, or how people unfairly call her a “one hit wonder”, even though she only ever performed this one track. I could talk about how her androgynous delivery is so mysterious that I honestly assumed she was a male for many years. I could analyse the great stereo production, or educate you on the finer details of the lyrics, such as how the horses represent the five senses of Hindu philosophy, or how they focus on the ability to see beyond our Earthly perspectives. I could say many things, but essentially all I really want to do is shove you into the pit I dug in my garden. I want to put lipstick on, tuck my dick between my legs and then admire myself in the mirror for an extended period of time. I’d dance dangerously, ruining pretty things, getting intimate with myself, feeling as sexy as I was feeling wrong. Would you fuck me? I'd fuck me. I'd fuck me hard.


Songs Disqualified For Being Too Predictable
The Beatles - A Day In The Life; Bob Dylan - Idiot Wind; David Bowie - Station To Station; Elvis Presley - (I Can't Help) Falling In Love With You; Fleetwood Mac - Never Going Back Again; Frank Sinatra - My Way; Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart; Johnny Cash - Hurt; Led Zeppelin - Stairway To Heaven; Pixies - Hey; Prince & The Revolution - Purple Rain; Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody; Radiohead - Paranoid Android; The Rolling Stones - Paint It Black; Simon & Garfunkel - The Sound Of Silence; The Smiths - Frankly, Mr. Shankly; Talking Heads - Once In A Lifetime


Other Songs Considered
Aerosmith - What It Takes; Animal Collective - My Girls; The Beach Boys - Good Vibrations; Bob Seger - Turn The Page; Bjork - Hyperballad; Blink 182 - I Miss You; Counting Crows - Mr. Jones; The Dandy Warhols - We Used To Be Friends; Dawn Penn - You Don’t Love Me (No, No, No); The Dillinger Escape Plan - 43% Burnt; Dusty Springfield - Windmills Of Your Mind; Enya - Orinoco Flow; Eric Claption - Tears in Heaven; Finley Quaye - Even After All; The Flaming Lips - Fight Test; Flobots - Handlebars; The Foo Fighters - Walking After You (acoustic version); Gary Jules - Mad World; Jay-Z - 99 Problems; Jeff Buckley - So Real; John Frusciante - Running Away Into You; Joni Mitchell - A Case Of You; Kate Bush - Oh To Be In Love; Massive Attack - Teardrop; Mr. Bungle - Goodbye Sober Day; Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Do You Love Me; Nine Inch Nails - Closer; Paul Simon - You Can Call Me Al; Peter Bjorn And John - Young Folks; Pogo - Alice; R.E.M. - Everybody Hurts; Stone Temple Pilots - Sour Girl; TLC - Waterfalls; Tracy Chapman - Fast Car; Vitalic - Polkamatic; Viktor Vaughn - Can I Watch?