It's about time I return to the acclaimed Extraordinary League of Kickassery...
Wait. Who are these people? The Joker? An emo Kid who's been recluse for too many years?
People who have followed my chronicles of the Extraordinary League of Kickassery are no strangers to my confusion as to why these honored men must change their hairstyles and don such befuddling garments every time they produce a new album. Just when I think, "Their hair can't get more bizarre than this," these gentlemen graciously swoop in with platinum hair and patterned buzz cuts to prove me wrong.
Once you can get over the visual packaging, however, so far this album looks to be one of the best. I was a little bit meh towards the songs they released last year, but since they've released the music videos for "Blue" and "Bad Boy" I've been hooked on the beats right from the start.
Let's go over the first title track:
You know what's great about this song? The most important line is in English, which means I CAN ACTUALLY SING ALONG. "I'm singing my bluuuuuuuuuuuuessssss!!" Way better than having to be like "Toniiiiiiiight. Toniiiiiiiight. Toniiiiiiight" or "blahblahblahblah HARU HARU."
Not to mention, I'm a big fan of bittersweet songs. This is the perfect song to listen to when I wake up early in the morning and try to do homework. The music video is melancholy as well, and the blue-grey shots of New York city give it a somber, urban look. The only beef I've got is with that girl who keeps popping up in the video. I'm still in the dark as to what her relation to the Extraordinary League of Kickassery is. Who art thou? Wherefore doth thou keep disappearing? Are all five of them hallucinating her image? Is this an artsy take two of "Beautiful Hangover"? Why do their movements keep mimicking hers? Are they implying that the culmination of all five members of the Extraordinary League of Kickassery is equivalent to this female?
Oh, and I was confused by all the running. From where are y'all running from? To where are y'all running towards? And why?
And now we get to the second title track:
I don't usually gravitate towards these more upbeat songs, but seriously -- THAT BEAT. I just want to play this everywhere I go and swagger to class with this rhythm. It's been a while since a Big Bang song hooked me right from the first play, but this one did the trick.
One thing I am starting to notice is that my ability to decipher and interpret their music videos has been on a sharp decline. Is it just me? Has it been too long since I've taken an English class with an analytical focus? Granted, their music videos have come a long way from the melodrama seen in songs like "Lies" and "Haru Haru," but at least I could still come up with some sort of interpretation for the artsy "Love Song" and overtly symbolic "Baby Good Night." No, the lady in "Blue" threw me off completely, and I'm still not sure what's going on here in "Bad Boy." Namely, WHO ARE THESE PEEPS TURNING DOWN BIG BANG?? I mean, I guess I kind of understand the one Taeyang was hitting on, 'cause I'd be kinda weirded out if a guy started doing a body roll right next to me on the street, even if he was pretty ripped and all that.
So once you get over the fact that GD's emo fringe is flopping all over his face, you start appreciating how the same backdrop (New York City) can conjure such distinctly different vibes in two music videos. There's still a greyish blue tint to the video, but it's crisper and sharper than in "Blue." The best part of all this is the gangsta dance/walk they do in the city streets. Totally makes me think of a stylish, updated version of West Side Story's gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, except our Extraordinary League of Kickassery has a hundred times the swag.
Seriously. All this swag is almost enough to forgive this egregious poster:
My excitement about Big Bang's world tour was duly neutralized by my horror upon seeing the Badass One's bedazzled eyebrows.
... SERIOUSLY??
I can't remember where I got the idea from. The idea that if a person manages to learn some specific, miniscule detail about you, you know that he's managed to his worm his way into your heart.
When I was in middle school, it was pizza. Among the thousand factoids I picked up about him during my five year infatuation, I knew my Watermelon Prince ate only mushroom pizza. I believed back then that if a guy didn't know that my favorite topping was Hawaiian, then he didn't actually like me that much. 'Cause when you're crushing, you pick up every little detail you can get your grubby hands on. You memorize his school schedule, recognize all of the shirts he owns, check out all of the favorite artists he lists on Facebook.
I wonder, if I could create a visual representation of all these stalkerish factoids I have accumulated in my lifetime, what would it like? What percent of my brain capacity is filled up with this kind of useful crap? Some of it has eroded it away with time, but there are still so many dumb details I can picture so clearly in my head.
You turned up in my dream last night. I don't know how you always manage to appear in my subconsciousness whenever I haven't thought about you in ages. It's as if your ego can't stand the thought of me tossing you out of my brain along with the rest of the garbage.
I don't know where we were, but our mutual friends were there. You were almost unrecognizable, in a black trench coat, scars on your face, and dark, unkempt hair. I called out, "Hey, You. Long time no see." My words caused all our friends to whip around and lash out at me. They called me a psycho. They told me that you had been dead for months. They said that the vagrant I said hello to didn't look anything like you, so how in bloody hell could I have mistaken him for you?
But I knew it was you. Your hair was different, your clothes were different, but I would have recognized you anywhere. I can't remember how to integrate a natural log, and I can't tell you the timeline of the Civil War, but I would have to be three-quarters dead not to recognize you even under all those scars.
//Spatial//
It was just the two of us at that bus stop. You were wearing a navy blue blazer with golden buttons down the front, paired with gleaming dress shoes and khaki pants. In contrast, my boots were tracked with mud, my unkempt hair a frazzled cloud brought into levitation by the drizzling rain. We talked briefly of work and mutual friends before boarding the bus one after the other.
Cramped in the aisle of the moving bus, we stood in an awkward jumble of crisscrossing limbs. My arms, too short to reach the bar above my head, grasped onto the pole behind you. You, nearly a foot taller than I, reached for the bar above our heads. Whenever the bus jolted around the corner, my hand would brush against the fabric of your back, and I could sense you bracing yourself from falling onto me.
The spatial reduction of the distance between you and me closes the temporal gap between us.
//Temporal//
Suddenly, I remember it all. I remember all the things I thought of you two years ago, before I found out you had a girlfriend. I remember finding out that she was still in high school, but that she would be attending our university next year. I remember looking at her Facebook photos, thinking how beautiful and sweet she could look in just a photograph and wondering how she must be in real life. I remember thinking that in a matter of years you two would be married. High school sweethearts to college sweethearts to husband and wife. Every girl's dream.
She and I became friends this year, and it turns out she is just as beautiful and sweet as I imagined.
I see the way you look at each other, her face cupped in your palms as you two sit face to face in the midst of a party in your apartment, oblivious to the noise and chatter around you. I hear the way you treasure her, how you cook dinner for her at least once a week and mix all of her favorite cocktails.
But then I remember other things.
I remember how you and Pike sat down with me at breakfast that one day. I was studying for an organic chemistry test. The two of you had a crack at my misery, teasing me about how much nicer your lives were as Public Policy majors. I laughed lightly, but it wasn't enough to flush out the anxiety bubbling in the pit of my stomach. But when I stood up to leave for the exam, you stood up beside me and raised your arms.
"Hey, you'll be fine. Here - you look like you need a hug."
//Spatial//
When the bus rolls to a halt, we bring our arms back to our sides. I exit the bus before you, and when I turn back around to see you behind me, you nod farewell. I say goodbye and we part ways.
