Last week for the Hair Balls blog, Craig's Hlist drank three cans of Four Loko to research just what has had all the kids freaking the hell out and going to the hospital in droves. It was a hellish experience, and we passed straight out after drinking three cans out of the four we originally bought. We came to on the office couch almost three hours later, loopy and feeling like total shit.
The distressing part was not the grape-y battery acid taste in our mouth, or the fact our pants were undone, it was that we remembered listening to some of the most awful and disparate music possible. Emphasis on the "disparate" part. We heard from onlookers that it got progressively louder as the "experiment" went on, and was wholly erratic.
Not completely out of character, though. Our Rdio account is a house of horrors when we are doing advance research for a show we are reviewing, like when Jack Johnson was hitting town we were doing our homework on his peers like John Mayer and Jason Mraz.
What follows is a sample playlist of what we were playing for two hours as the demon liquid began to take effect. You have every right to judge us. Does Rdio kill musical tastes, our does it merely act as a conduit to make your bad musical tastes bloom? With Four Loko involved, we believe it to be the latter.
Prince, "When Doves Cry":
Of course we started with the Purple One, since we were going to be drinking the grape Loko later on.
Lady Gaga, "Monster":
Duh.
Rolling Stones, "Emotional Rescue":
After downing over half a can, we suddenly got obsessed with opening drum parts of this Stones song, like almost sweaty-obsessed. We couldn't stop playing it repeatedly.
Alan Silvestri, "CHiPs Theme"
And the weirdness sets in, along with a fleeting concentration on the history of the motorcycle cop show. As we turned our head, it felt like our brain was itself soaking in Loko like we had poured it directly on the organ.
Slayer, "South of Heaven"
Things took a metal turn for a few minutes as we cut into the second can, the fruit punch flavor. We could taste Kerry King's solo work almost. Our teeth gritted and we had to pee real bad.
