A man must party. And when no one else will rise to the cause, sometimes one must party alone. Even if that means playing "Brass Monkey" really loud on a shitty boom box on the train and drunkenly slurring along in between unintelligible loud angry conversations with your girlfriend/wife/mother/dealer or whoever on the other end of that phone got you so pissed off.
No matter. Brass Monkey makes it all better. Headphones are not for the likes of you. Oh no. This music and singing along must be heard by all.
Is this a mix? 1999 by Prince to follow the Beasties? Well played, my friend. Well played. Do keep stamping your feet like that. This is your disco, our commuter train. It is Da Club- hold nothing back.
