Medasin convinced me that Post Malone isn’t a horrorPosty3

Medasin convinced me that Post Malone isn’t a horror

In what may come as a shock to my Twitter followers, parents, coworkers, and ex girlfriends, by the strictest of legal definitions, I am an adult. As such, it is with a humble heart and hat in hand that I make the following confession: I was wrong.

You see, dear reader, there is an argument that raged in DA‘s Slack channels, one that spread from isolated DMs to ignite everything up to our #Global missives. As this disagreement spread like sepsis in 19th century Washington D.C., noble heroes emerged on both sides.

I was solitary in what I thought was righteous certainty, faced down by a veritable legion led by Dancing Astronaut’s Editor in Chief, Alexandra Blair. In noble defiance, I jutted out my chin and exclaimed to the vapid, heedless horde: Post Malone is straight up bad!

From his blasé singles (carefully avoided on DSPs), shortsighted courtship of controversy, and his… “”aesthetic,”” I found nothing appealing about the artist whatsoever. Thus I hunkered down, comfortable in my choice of hill to die upon.

Like many campaigns, mine was done in by the unanticipated. Blindsided. Medasin came roaring into my flank and caught me completely unawares. To my, in  hindsight, detriment, I gave in to entreaties from the angelic few who wished to see this conflict end and listened to the Texas producer’s remix of Malone’s “I Fall Apart.”

The incredible rework’s moderate tempo is brought to life by thudding drums, interspersed with a walking electric piano and fuzzy synth waves, for a result that is measured and engaging. Indeed, its clever arrangement heightens Malone’s vocals — here, endlessly catchy — into a level of earnestness that couldn’t be imagined previously. All of a sudden, I knew every word and could not help but to dejectedly mumble along.

The stages of grief are well known, though acceptance, the final step, hurts that much more when one knows that this entire fiasco is their fault. I hoped this screed would exorcise those particular demons; yet I sit, with Medasin’s remix playing on repeat, and feeling none the better. Healing is a process, forgiveness is too, and I hope one day to again know a measure of peace.

Until then, I’m sorry, Post Malone. :(

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