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06-13-2013, 06:06 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-14-2013, 03:11 AM by Greyfox)
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Boards of Canada - Cold Earth
Boards of Canada's new album 
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Fucking love Boards of Canada, thanks for the post, I had only heard one other tune so far. Going to buy this one when I get the chance.
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(06-20-2013, 12:31 PM)Maka link Wrote: Fucking love Boards of Canada, thanks for the post, I had only heard one other tune so far. Going to buy this one when I get the chance.
not sure if richfag or trolling
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(06-20-2013, 01:13 PM)Shark link Wrote: not sure if richfag or trolling
Richfag.
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There is music in the club. Not just any music. Heavy bass pounds in your ears, while you lick nervously lips. The rhythm quickly becomes just a background, something you simply stop noticing. It unsettles you a little bit, makes you feel out of place. You weren’t exactly IN the place, to be honest. Not everyone had an access to this club and certainly not you.
“Dude, are you certain they will let me in?”
“Yep, I’m one hundred percent certain they will. Hey, how about you stop worrying about getting in and start worrying about not losing your wallet in there.”
You smile a little, recalling how your mate presented you with an entry pass to THIS club. Good old Steve. He was always around interesting and influential people, despite being a simple white-collar worker. By day, a simple mundane ant, by night a king of underground life, full of bass and whisky on rocks. Speaking of alcohol…
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You stick a straw between your lips and sip a bit of apple Martini, which cost an arm and a leg. Bar looks simple. But simplicity is the new luxury, your secretary would say. Maybe. Round room is slowly filling up with people, which sit eagerly on leather sofas. Right in the middle was the metal, shiny dancing pole. Mild blue light was shining, reflecting in the eyes of awaiting guests. Most of them are like you – young, enterprising, showing promise with their first million already on their accounts. Men in suits, women in costumes, chatting away, speculating, never shutting up and waiting. You take another sip. The bartender glances at you. She stops cleaning the glass, which she was holding and disappears behind some doors that you never even noticed. That moron pretending to be a DJ slowly tunes down and is engulfed by some secret entrance. You loosen up the tie. Was the spectacle about to begin?
And suddenly, without any warning, the lights are out. Some quiet screams. You pull out your mobile phone, yearning for light. You are welcomed by dark screen, pushing all buttons notwithstanding. A nervous giggle. In dark you find your straw and take yet another sip, your hand shakes a little. You can feel that everyone is nudging people around.
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Speakers emit a buzz of radio without any station, which deafens you for a little and leaves dull ring in your ears. All light bulbs shine and then go out, leaving only those near the pole. The audience moaned, ones with fear, others with reverence. You say nothing, being able only to stare at the podium, at what suddenly appeared there.
Tall and slender, empty and terrifying, eternal yet young. Long, long arms and legs, dark suit and aura of buzz. Lack of face stared at you with much attention and you drop the glass in cascade of shards. In the same moment, the music started to play.
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No wifing in the club
Whistles of excitement.
Gimme twenty dollars
Gimme twenty dollars
Gimme twenty dollars
You recall the leaflet, you recall all the rumors and warnings. Slenderman leaves the last glance at your face and lowers his head. You can hear the ruffling of wallets.
Play ya position in the club or gimme 20 dollarz
First notes are flying towards the monster. He bends down, like a giraffe in front of a lake. He sticks them in invisible pockets of his suit.
People shriek and squeal.
He circles the pole twice, his butt is moving seductively, causing another avalanche of notes. You can barely hear the music with all the excitement of the crowd. He slides the jacket off himself and throws it somewhere in the corner. A women pushes herself to the front, screaming something like please, let me, I beg of you, let me. The monster crouches for her and she touches his chest, licking the place where a belly button should be. Everyone starts pushing towards her, so the monster moves away, throwing away his shirt, showing the whiteness of his skin. Dumbfounded woman pulls out all of her money, trying to summon him back.
No kissing in the club or gimme 20 dollarz
The back of the monster supports itself by the pole. His chest is breathing heavily, while his long hand is slowly tracing his shirt, unbuttoning it with attention. You shiver.
No tricking in the club or gimme 20 dollarz
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/i like that tune shark!
![[Image: SkeletalEdibleIndianpalmsquirrel-size_restricted.gif]](https://thumbs.gfycat.com/SkeletalEdibleIndianpalmsquirrel-size_restricted.gif)