Ive always been into indie rock, but Ive noticed in my time that that doesnt lead to a lot of positive attention. Or any attention really, if we are going by sheer hours spent doing an activity my favorite hobby is explaining that when I mean American Football I dont mean the NFL. (which in Texas might as well be a leprosy diagnosis) It was in the back of my high school classes that I could not care less about where the lights dimmed just a little and heartbeats werent deafening that I found Pitchfork magazine. First I read only the reviews about the bands I liked basking in the hagiography of the artists that justified my decision to learn the guitar. As I read I noticed the lights around me blurring into a tolerably bright haze, and the sounds of everything around me getting traded for the immediate intimacy of my own steady breathing. I did not stop reading, once I went through all the reviews for the bands I liked I moved onto the bands I hated, then the bands I had never heard of. The ominous blue emitted by a picture of a scenic landscape was traded for the blinding white of the webpage, and the warm hue of a recently installed blue light limiter.
