At 11 p.m. on a Sunday, I am finally finished with not only at-work work, but with personal work as well. It’s been a long week, full of deadlines and three-minute breaks, and I’ve nearly forgotten what sleep is. I’m stoked for warm blankets and flannel sheets. My head hits the pillow, my thumb slides up the menu on my iPhone and hits the little crescent moon; that dimly shining beacon, the Do Not Disturb setting. I smile. My heavy eyes close.
U2’s “Sleep Like A Baby Tonight” starts playing out of nowhere.
At first, I don’t understand. I have no idea what’s happening, where the music is coming from. I fumble around in the dark for the flashlight on my phone…only to discover that my phone is the culprit. My phone has betrayed me.
Not only do I have this bullshit record that I can’t seem to delete, but it’s fucking sentient and is now playing itself. This is not punk rock. This is invasive and fucking annoying. It’s 11:10 p.m. on a Sunday and I’m pissed the hell off now. I’m up, I’m pants-less, and I’m writing this month’s MxC just for you, Bono.
10 WAYS TO RELEASE YOUR RECORD THAT ARE LESS ANNOYING THAN THAT SHIT U2 PULLED.
1. Eat $20 worth of Taco Bell in one sitting. Fart into jars and sell them for $13.99 each. The deluxe version can go for $18.99 and should have actual fecal matter in it.
2. Make a three-track album, 13 minutes long tops. Sell it for preorder only. Release four-second increments via your subscribe-only website over the course of eight years. It’s genius, really.
3. Take the golden ticket approach, only put your “YOU’VE WON OUR RECORD!!!” slips strictly into bottles of baby aspirin, creating worldwide panic whilst simultaneously generating the most buzz for your band, like, EVER.
4. Choose a person at random on the street or in the mall and stalk them till they panic and give in, forking over $1.99 for a one-track download. Just to see if they’re into your sound, ya know? (Repeat as necessary.)
5. Cut a glory hole into a bathroom stall in a bar where a similarly sounding band is playing but instead of putting your dick through it, string some ear buds through and play your best track on repeat.
6. If you’re an emo or skramz band, keep your heads down and don’t look at anybody for as long as it takes someone to care and ask what the fuck is wrong with you, then tell them about your record. Same applies for hardcore bands, just substitute being a social invalid with punching people for no reason. All people. Men, women, babies. Everyone’s got ears and they all deserve to hear your music.
7. Buy 600 mice from multiple pet shops, tie little cards with links to your Bandcamp or iTunes around their necks, set them loose in an enclosed public setting. Make sure to adjust your profit margin to include the purchase of 600 mice. And string. You should already have promo cards printed; if not, what the fuck is wrong with you?
8. Scream and flail like you’re seriously injured in the middle of a convenience store (or pretty much anywhere) and when someone asks you what your emergency is, yell “MY BAND IS OFF THE FUCKING HOOK CHECK US OUT!!!” Bonus props if you get an EMT to like your Facebook page.
9. Continue to Snapchat your dick to chicks without them wanting or asking for it like normal, just make sure the link to your website is written on it from now on.
10. Crowd-fund a multimillion-dollar labyrinth in the shape of your drummer’s nutsack to be built. Those who contribute get to try and solve it—the prize, other than their precious lives, is your record. If they fail to solve it, they most likely die in there though. Just label it as art. Which it totally is.
Whatever the hell you do, don’t interrupt my sleep, and don’t mess with my storage. Hundreds of photos were deleted to make room for the newest update, but the fucking U2 album I didn’t fucking want is still there.