JennNeSaisQuoi wrote:oneeyeddick wrote:What in the hell is dubstep ?
Whomp 101
Dub is not "hip". It’s not catchy, or trendy. It’s not sunny and sweet – it’s chewy and thick. You can’t sing to it. You won’t hear on American Idol. Dub doesn’t go down easy, it just...goes down. When transferred from disk to device to speaker to ears, it leaves an impression. It leaves a brand, a scar on every fiber of every muscle. It fills every pore – that’s when you know that it owns you.
You don’t dance to it, you FEEL it. Movement and sound transforms to light and you undulate in and around one another – writhing and dripping to raw bass emotion, and every whomp feels like a dose of medication. Ten minutes of bass feels like ten hours of therapy – without the side affects of feeling invaded and analyzed by an over-educated, Birkenstock wearing, narcissistic, self-righteous hypocrite. It’s a mind-fuck nonetheless, but this one will actually give your brain an orgasm.
Dubstep will change and evolve into something more within a matter of seconds. It will bend and obscure, it will break and grow, it will swell and growl – it will roll a vibration that begins at your feet and reverberates through every hair follicle, peels your face off and ends with an awakening in your mind. If hip hop and reggae were water through a sieve, then dubstep would be thick, organic honey. It’s an addiction. Dub is like butter and the DJ is its hot knife – cutting and melting it away into a slick, slippery stream of deliciousness that when poured onto most anything, it just fucking tastes better. It’s sinful and indulgent. Its bass line is x-rated and will leave you feeling like you need a cold shower, a hot bath, and a confession.
Listening to it feels like a resurrection. It is our atonement. It’s the love child of Bob Marley, Eazy-E and some futuristic machine, grinding and breaking sound into something really offensive and dirty.
You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to appreciate it. You don’t even have to respect the fact that we like it – we are a class of music lovers that require no outside voice, no validation, acceptance or approval. We don’t care how we look, what we wear, or what others think when we are in and around what we do. We are a tribe – threads from the same fabric, ripped apart and woven back together. We are free-thinking, body-shaking, head-bobbing, hand-waving, shoulder-dusting, feet-stomping, beat boxing, whomp enthusiasts – and those who don’t get it...can suck it.
“When your spirit is floatin’ down the tunnel toward the light, you know what’s behind the light? It’s not God…its ME. And I’m gonna kick your poncy soul all the way back down the tunnel ‘til you choke on your own fucked up ribs. Now…wake the FUCK up.â€
