I’ve totally gotten into this band. In short: they rock! I mean look at that album cover. Don’t you want to just buy it based on that? It’s currently only $10.98 on Amazon.com.
If you’re not convinced, check out two of their music videos.
They’re opening for some other band (The Sounds?) in Toronto, April 16th at the Opera House. Anyone from Rochester interested in a little road trip?
I was listening to my iPod on shuffle and “Hearing Voices In One’s Head” by MC 900 Ft Jesus came on. The lyrics of that song are so good. Yes, they’re creepy, and really silly, but good nonetheless. Believe it or not, I couldn’t find the full lyrics online anywhere (oh Google why do you mock me?!) so I typed all of it in myself from the liner notes. I hope you appreciate them.
I know you. I know all about you. You see things that other people don’t see and it makes you nervous. If your hands would stop shaking, you’d wipe the cold sweat off your brow. It’s hard for you to think but you don’t need to very much because the voices in your head usually tell you waht to do. You consider yourself to be invisible and it’s true in a way, because everybody can see right through you. Other people can even read your thoughts, although they’ll never let you know it for sure. But when you leave the room, everybody discusses you and then has a good laugh. You used to have some friends, but they don’t come around much anymore; probably because it’s hard for them to keep a straight face in your presence. When you go out you need to be very careful. Things always seem to happen too fast. If someone accidentally brushes against you, you jerk away in a panic that you foolishly hope no one will notice. When you go into a place of business and see a security camera, you try to beam pleasant, innocuous thoughts at it. You make a feeble attempt to be nonchalant until you are out of its range. If you see a book or magazine, it usually has a picture of yourself on the cover, one taken by such a camera. These pictures are skillfully retouched to look like someone else in order to mock you. You never read books or magazines because they all contain secret messages hidden in multiple layers of meaning that make you do things you can’t remember later. Nights are rough. You stay in your apartment with the shades drawn and all the lights off, watching television. You keep the sound turned off and try to be very quiet because you want everyone to think you’re asleep. And all night long, a disembodied voice in the back of your head sings over and over: “Somewhere, there’s a place for us…”