It's been a very long time since I've been able to update Mr. Newstyle, the bastard, illegitimate column of a site that doesn't exactly go out of its way to be legitimate, or accountable, or any of those fancy words that make journalists go all atwitter. As you can imagine, I've been so busy with other projects on the site that usually Thursday updates are relegated to silly things like drunk pictures, or our most recent thanksgiving feast. Those two represent the extremes of "no work" and "lots and lots of work". Mr. Newstyle is the squirreled away alternative to those extremes for use when it's getting late and I want to put something out for our total lack of fans.

So here you go, it's getting late and I want to put something out for you! Has it really been two months? Why just this past week I was listening to Beatdrop's little ditty. My how time flies.

I would say to you that this mix is probably the best thing ever put out on the internet, barring the inclusion of this banging scratch-fest. But I don't need to say anything about the awesome opus(es) of djpretzel. That man's some sort of kung-fu karate god that doesn't need the praise of a weak-willed slug like myself. We're here to talk about the more recent reinterpretation of the classic "Marble Zone" theme from Sonic the Hedgehog.

Marble Zone was a quality area, barring inclusion of massive magma attacks. The game waited until you had acclimated yourself in the relatively forgiving Grass Zone before throwing you full force into the quagmire of despair that represents all the second zone has to offer. The soundtrack, delightfully pleasant even in those prehistoric days of videogame audio, was there to guide you through every step of that dangerous path. It was your sole comfort as a child, the one thing that could keep you alive in this hazard world of bees, and robots, and robot bees (that had baby chickens inside them).

Cryptic Marble is a very different experience than what we experienced with djpretzel's Love Hurts. While I would say that djp's song is more consistently good throughout, they are things for two different moods. djp is romancing time with your lady or, alternatively, sad time after your lady has left you and you're crying about it in your beer. Both are equally applicable emotions, but one of them will cause me to laugh at you. I'm gonna let you figure that one out.

DistantJ miffs the hell out of me by all but ignoring the main thrust of the song, but I suppose that was his original intent. It's long been my contention that the entire internet has it out for me. It's only just now that I realize my suspicions were true. What makes his crime especially heinous is just how good the guy treats it. It's like the words "justice" and "does it" were never in the same room before this guy came to town. Heck, I'm not convinced they were ever as close as the same continent!

But when this song hits 1'42 you will know that something has been done justice, though you will not immediately know what or where the justice is being done to. The final call of the frilly woodwind will hurt you into a techno beat freakout session that does not last nearly as long as your undernourished ears would desire. The sort of tribal feel that this thing encompasses, with predictable woodwind accompaniment at key moments in the beat, is something that needs to be experienced, not talked about. I can not describe the level of awesome that this section of the song has cooped up inside. It's like it was genetically engineered to be awesome. I won't sully it by quoting other time markers, save to say that it comes back at 3'41 and it's just as good.

I have now used more italics than some people use their ENTIRE LIVES.

But Could I Drive To This?: Funny you should bring that up. I was just pondering the same questions. I believe that, with some creativity, this is a song that would be intensely applicable to your driving experience. Say you're coasting down the highway at night, it's raining and you're taking it slow. When 0'33 hits you notice something in your rearview.

It's ninjas.

And they're gaining on you.

Well I don't think I need to tell you what happens next, but I will provide a brief outline. You try to play it cool for awhile. After all, how could these ninjas be after you? But at the 1'41 flute break brutal realization hits, accompanied by a sexy close-up on your eyes as they narrow. By 1'43 your hand is on the shifter and you're taking off at breakneck speeds. Whatever you did to these ninjas, they're out for your blood. But, by god, they WON'T HAVE IT!

Not if DistantJ has anything to say about it.