Tag Archives: musically fans

I think pop music has dropped on me. Well, more specifically, I gave up pop music. Try to follow what's happening on the old musty terrestrial radios or what's happening on YouTube, I prefer to listen to something that comes out before I get naked in my ears. In short, I am old and can not be bothered to be cool anymore. I'm too busy trying to pay my mortgage and prevent my dog from chewing on my wife's bras to really engage with pop music significantly.

Musically Likes

That's why Musical.ly, a new lip-synching application that often features stars like Ariana Grande, puzzled me so much. Part of the thrill seems to be telling Sia or Twenty-One Drivers riding a bike through a blizzard, and then uploading a video of this whole sordid affair so people can give you feedback on your ability to do not sing. It is very popular with teenagers and pre-teens (AKA children), with the majority of the 100 million users of the app falling into this demographic. They are everywhere in the app, and some become full stars. Everything is harmless unless you watch 10 in a row and you start to feel like you've fallen on the worst pajama party in the world. I tested the app for a day and had only an intermittent feeling that looked like fun. Just warning: I am 32 years old and has performed most of my extreme public acts of embarrassment within the confines of my house, sometimes while eating.

It's easy to record and upload a video. There is a yellow button in the bottom row of the screen that takes you to a menu where you can choose to pick a song, turn the video first and add music later, or download a pre-recorded video of your library. My first thought was to secretly film my neighbors leaning over to pick up stray leaves from their yard, then add the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme and upload my masterpiece, but I have to break the bad news that the Curb theme is not available. If it had allowed me to secretly drag my fellow citizens with impunity, I would have ranked five stars.

The first song I chose from lip-synch was Closer by the Chainsmokers, starring Halsey. I have never heard this song in my life and you can see that I did not articulate well. The best I could find for flair was to swing my head slightly and make sure Sky News was in the background. I get random support words from accounts that seem very clearly to be bots designed to encourage you to continue using Musical.ly, lest you realize that your lip sync is a terrible waste of time. "Pure Track Star", says xohayle.88. "Beautiful tunes," says lex.e_f1. Yungnoe66 always says that my work is "top quality".

I'm happy to think they're real fans until xuanpham53 says a video of me crying for humanity in Bart Simpson's Do the Bartman tracks was "incredibly good". Sorry, I buried the lede here, is not it? Yes, the Bartman is available. What a stroke of luck.

In order to get free fans on musically you needed accessories to make my Musical.ly videos really engaging. The only accessories I have in my house are delicious pita chips, which I slammed while telling broccoli by D.R.A.M. and Lil Yachty, a song I do not only know, but love. Look, I'm 32 years old, not 82. Although I thought it was my best job at the moment, I did not receive any tastes and a lousy comment: magconbri2053 said "top" with a heart next to him. How impersonal.

In order to save my self esteem, I downloaded the video on Instagram, which Musical.ly allows you to do after you've posted, which is one of the ways the app has gained popularity. The ability to share your work across multiple platforms, while each video sports a discreet watermark, is a valuable free advertising. I was thinking of going on a field trip and saving in the bathroom for my next track. I chose another song I had never listened to in my life: I took a pill in Ibiza by Mike Posner. Even 10 seconds of this song makes me want to set fire to the recording studio in which it was created, or better still, to go back in time and prevent humanity from inventing musical instruments. In the clip, I must avoid catching a reflection of my chauvian spot