Sergeant D loves a lot of music everyone else rightfully hates. I despise a lot of bands that many people stupidly enjoy. Our Venn Diagrams wouldn't usually overlap, but we've made an ipecac pact: Once a month, we send each other videos guaranteed to make the recipient vomit and cry and spasm and beg for eternal nothingness. Enjoy!

Romance on a Rocketship, "A Million Kisses"

GD: A few years ago, I visited a college roommate in his hometown of Lebanon, Missouri, and we climbed a rickety free-standing staircase on the side of a water tower in hopes of getting a panoramic view of the 4th of July fireworks. Seeing this thing, which apparently hails from that godforsaken town, sitting as pictured in a field below me really would have amplified the small voice inside my head that was whispering "jump now, this life is a goddamn joke."

Like Owl City, The Rocket Summer, and the rest of the new crop of fresh-faced happy-go-lucky fucks, Romance on a Rocketship espouses a disgusting, almost pornographic optimism that doesn't remedy adolescent depression so much as it spreads it by making pre-teens wonder why their lives aren't one big fun ride down the magic rainbow. The "take you to the moon" love poems this emaciated hair-nest peddles are just as fake as his Auto-Tuned croon. Listen, kids, grown-up life is nothing like Romance on a Rocketship, and you should be fucking thrilled about that.

Florence and the Machine, "Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)"

Sgt. D: Have you ever wondered "what is the soundtrack to having a giant bush?" If so, then you should listen to this band, because I am pretty sure Florence is packing at least a square yard of pubes under that sheer, flowing dress. Aside from not shaving her pussy, I'm guessing Florence spends most of her time in front of the mirror, practicing new ways of looking whimsical while wishing her life was more like a photo shoot for the Anthropologie catalog.

I am also certain that she identifies strongly with movies about a quirky girl who meets a sweet indie dude with permanently messy hair who wears rumpled, button-up shirts. He is about to get married to some uptight bitch who wants to control everything and stomp all the creativity out of him, but fortunately the quirky girl comes along and reignites his passion for life and shows him that he has to call off the wedding at the last minute, even though it's going to disappoint his parents and make him question everything he thought he knew about himself.

Oh, and I'm almost positive she "doesn't even OWN a television" and takes every possible opportunity she can to tell you that she doesn't know who a given celebrity is: "Who is THAT?? Why do you get so wrapped in all that fake Hollywood bullshit? It's so PLASTIC and PHONY, man! Wait, hang on a second, my iPhone is ringing."

The Antlers, "Two"

Sgt. D: I pressed play on this song and instantly felt any traces of masculinity leave the room faster than a person with functioning eardrums at a White Stripes show. The singer dude in this band should hook up with Florence. I think it could be a match made in heaven: flabby-skinny indie dude with excessive facial hair + self-centered nu-hippie bitch with excessive pubic hair = true love 4evs.

Maybe they can bond over microbrews while they talk about how meaningful that one Wes Anderson movie was. You know, the main character is so amazing, he has this demeanor that's quirky and spontaneous, but at the same time you feel like there's so much pain beneath the surface and you are always looking for the hidden meaning in all those sarcastic jokes he makes because you know there is so much he's thinking but not saying! He just has the most incredible sense of humor where he stands back and makes these brilliant, hilarious observations about life.

Oh, and the indiepop/twee soundtrack is seriously the best thing ever, it totally takes me back to college. I feel like I really found myself there, especially during all those late nights where my friends and I had deep conversations about how we couldn't decide on a major because we were stuck at fucking lame-ass Antioch when we really should be at Evergreen where they aren't shackled by the anachronistic norms of traditional academia. And as if the film couldn't get any better, the funky, hand-drawn typography on the poster evokes the same sense of childlike wonder and idealism triggered when I put on my ironic Christmas sweater and hop in my Volkswagen to buy some organic produce at this really authentic farmer's market I found out about when I was reading the local alt/free-weekly paper.

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