Re-watch Spiderman: Into-the-Spider-Verse. Three times now.
The song list, or commonly called OST, is gorgeous. Apart from Sunflower my daughter has been singing time to time since she watched the film the first time (how sweet is she. And how sweet is SONY of making real a daring and beautiful Gwen Stacey, to whom my 6-year-old daughter feels relatable), Scared of the Dark (bt Lil Wayne & Ty Dolla $ign; Featured by the late XXXtentacion) is a gem of Hip Hop. I can say it’s one of the best. The Chorus keeps stick to my head. The Cantonese 洗腦. I nearly cried in my seat on the last row of the bus this morning, right in front of a passenger, a stranger sitting opposite me. But I think that sentimentality is more about my drug Loraz (boosting up my sensory response like x10) than about the sagaciousness of the lyrics. I used to say I like English thing because it helps myself suppressing my emotion because I suck in English. Now judging that, I may not suck as deep as I think of myself. That sucks.
P.S. Lil Wayne, Ty Dolla $ign and the late XXXtentacion are superstars of the Hip Hop. They getting together in the verse of music is equivalent to the classic triple punch of Miles, Gwen and Peter B Parker in that Collider.
Related this song, I recently get a bit of interest of Mac Miller, another Hip Hop prodigy and genius who died of late, too soon too young. Thank you NPR Small Desk Concert, for letting me a taste of a genius Hip Hopper, who can bend the rules of Hip Hop which usually stresses the anger and hatred and power from them. Instead, Mac Miller presented a genre of Hip Hop which is so lazy, so chill out, so in Marijuana, but so good.
From his lazy eyes triggers my reminiscence of another prodigy, any genius, who nearly died a couple of years ago, too young too soon. Peter Doherty of the Libertines. The first time I listened to his show made me wonder how can one make music so drugged, so wild, so carefree, so poisoned, so terrible, so effortless, but so good, so all the good and bad together. In this sense, he in my opinion is even better than Thom Yorke and Damon Albarn, whose music reveals so much of their thought process, their hair stretching effort, their 24-72 hours non-stop cigarette smoking.
Prodigy. Genius. I love those words. I hate those words. It pierces me time to time, making me vulnerable to my jealousy and lust. That why, ask I myself all the time, am I not the one? How wonderful if those words have a bit of association with me. I remember one of the sub teachers in high school used to describe me as genius. Wrongly so, expectedly. My life afterwards my trajectory my orbit been proving her wrong in every single criterion to define this word. I love to be different. I hate being normal. I hate being who I am what I am. And you can’t blame me. You are not me you can’t blame my for being honest to myself, to others. What you blame me just reveals how much you are as a dickhead.