How about an mp3 of 2 Linkin Park songs, one in each ear, pitch shifted — and they line up perfectly. Awesome. It's one thing for Ray Parker Jr. to rip of Huey Lewis. But to just make the same song over and over?

All Linkin Park Songs Sound Exactly The Same (mp3)

via nervousxcircuits

I heard today that Jeff Healey died of cancer. He sang "Angel Eyes" which was my huge, huge torch song for this girl I dated in high school. In the tape deck on dates, at the prom, or on lonely drives through the winding back roads of Hangover County. It voiced that seemingly all-encompassing, blinding love you get in high school, that 'love-sickness.' In the end, we were a total trainwreck with enough chapters to fill a book. And not a 'happily ever after' kind of book. Think more along the lines of Bronte or a messed-up Henry James sort of way.

Still, there is always that song. For some reason it always takes me back to a moment where I believed I could hold the entirety of the world.

I was dumfounded to learn he was just seven years older than me. My heart goes out to his wife and children.

sarah silverman is fucking matt damon. and it really makes me laugh.

gondry makes bjork look hotter than i ever recall seeing her in her new ">'declare independence' video. at first i thought it was maybe a single shot, then i thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. but no, she looks hot. though, to be fair, she doesn't look much like herself either.

[via fimoculous]

I found a good blog post about specific songs that resonate for specific people, and what particular moments they are. It was kind of funny, because I had been thinking a lot about this very subject in terms of my musical taste.

I read an article by Chuck Klosterman a while ago where he talked about the difference between good and bad songs. His argument was that all good songs have a "good part," you know, that one special moment in a song where your ears perk up and tell your brain that you like what you are hearing. Without this moment, the song is not worthless.

There are many songs that I love, but only a small list of songs that resonate with me; songs that have such a good "good part" that I will listen to the song over and over again and still get chills when I hear my favorite moment. Here are four of my favorites.

Song: PDA by Interpol
Best Part: Near the end of the song, when guitarist Daniel Kessler starts to sing

I had a conversation with my girlfriend months ago about "good parts" of songs, and when I started to talk about this song, she interrupted me and said, "the best part of the song is the end, when the other guy starts to sing." If two people and independently agree on something like that, it must be true. To be honest, I really have no idea what the hell he is saying, but there's something about how it says it that makes all the difference. That song was already fantastic before Daniel's part at the end, but it truly becomes majestic at the end.

Song: Church on White by Stephan Malkmus
Best Part: The guitar line ten seconds before the song ends

I was going to talk about Malkmus' previous band, Pavement, and my favorite song of their, Gold Soundz, but frankly the guitars at the end of Church on White do more for me. It sounds as if the guitars are singing. As corny as it sounds, I could listen to that particular guitar solo for and hour straight and never tire of it. It's that beautiful.

Song: Mr. November by The National
Best Part: The chorus

Most of the lyrics in this song are about sports. Lots of talk about being carried away by cheerleaders, about being the "great white hope," and even the name Mr. November is most likely a reference to Mr. October himself Reggie Jackson. That said, I'm almost positive this song has nothing to do with sports. At least it doesn't for me. When the drums start into the chorus, and Matt Berninger starts to belt out "I won't fuck us over, I'm Mr. November…" you can't help but get chills down your back. Or at least I still do.

Song: Good Morning Captain by Slint
Best Part: "I miss you!"

My girlfriend will hate me for mentioning this, because she really really hates this band. The song is nearly eight minutes long, and in that time it meanders around, with Brian McMahan's whispered vocals retelling the epic poem "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" over continually building music, until it reaches its peek, slows to a near halt, and then the guitars blaze and McMahan screams "Did I miss you? I miss you!" It's really one of those things you have to experience to understand. On top of that, this moment is the moment that ends Slint's album Spiderland, which was their last record. I saw them live on their reunion tour last year. I miss them too.