Do you like listening to Techno music? If so, I’m shocked — I can’t believe it. You seriously enjoy this garbage? I myself can’t stand it. It makes me feel like I’m waiting for an airplane that will never take off.
(NOTE: a “rave”, in North America, is “a lively gathering”.)
The only way that I could imagine myself being able to tolerate listening to Techno is if I could dance like the rave-goers do — if I had a colorful bottle of mango-flavored Spykes malt liquor in one hand, and a bag of weed in the other; plus if I had taken a few hits of acid and was high on speed, and if I wore baggy pants and dyed my hair purple and had a mohawk, and I could see beautiful visual trails flying around in the air, due to a permanent perception disorder that I acquired from taking too many hallucinogens — then, and only then, maybe Techno would appeal to me. But you’d need to crank the speakers up pretty loud, and turn on a strobe light, in order for me to enjoy partying till sunup to this trash.
And if you had a 100-disc CD changer hooked up to a home-theater system: this might win me over. Also it would help if I had a girlfriend who was a raver, and a bunch of fellow travelers who were all party animals. Or if my sexual orientation were different — maybe that would help me to appreciate Techno.
Unfortunately, none of the above fantasy elements are true for me. So, instead, I’ll stick with Miami Bass music.
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