There’s a lot of legal mumbo jumbo that goes along with obtaining the rights to get music in a podcast. Dealing with mechanical licenses, public performance licenses, direct licenses, on and on. Oh and if you overlay the music with talking, it’s a SE
This is deLUXE.
So, I think I might have died and gone to hell without realizing it because I find myself living in a shitty apartment building with a bunch of corny cockknuckles emanating all manner of douchebaggery. And what’s more, the building is designed like melrose place or a cheap motel, so that everyone’s living room faces each other and opens outside to a delightful courtyard. That way I can hear all the intimate details of the world’s shittiest people as if they’re right here in my apartment with me.
I’ll spare you boring details, but I wanted to let you know that today I awoke to someone “playing” the Recorder outside of my bedroom window – only to go to my front room and hear someone in my building playing the UKELELE.
The UKELELE of all the the twee, precious, god-awful things! With few exceptions.
The Recorder: “A differently abled Flute”.
These two – I’m gonna say instruments – are the bane of my aural existence. So getting one of these sounds from the front and the other from the back, is some sort of sadistic fuck train that got me to thinkin… Hmmmm? Am I in hell? I mean, I dont’t hear any midwestern transplants trying to play african drums while walking at the same time, so I’m not sure. But I think, at the very least, I’m in a really low rent purgatory. God. Help. Me.