Another Essay About Wonderbra

Another essay about Wonderbra from Abaw, our favorite critique, in

http://somaphilia.blogs.friendster.com/somaphilia/2006/06/wonderbras_thre.html

Wonderbra's three new songs!
Freedom is the state of being of every artist, so no wonder that u can never constraint her works in a uniform scheme. The same rule applies to one of my fave bands, Wonderbra. Different from its previous shamanic single, “die!die! baby die!”, the new songs drive me to face a personality; a female one. The songs place me as if I was in this forlorn theatre where there’re only me and her, yet there’s an absolute gap between us; she was the performer and I was her only spectator.

Despite that fact, you need to know that I’m a very demanding spectator. If the story performed is just about a girl who is madly-in-love-need-fuck-get-dump, I’ll go away. But, what I’m seeing is a Greek-like tragedy with quality. It’s about one woman who is struggling to get away from the phantom that has haunted each woman since the day she was planned to be born into this world. Virginia Woolf gave the phantom an eloquent name, “the angel in the house.”

The woman is still struggling; I can hear her groaning, yelling, and cursing the fucking angel. But, the angel just keeps smiling, as if there’s nothing important; nothing significant in her distress. My heroine surely won’t take it, since the matter involved is deep; it concerns the very meaning of her existence. The angel is forcing her to stay on surface; blocking her path to her own essence. So you see that it has nothing to do with hatred. She doesn’t really hate it. She just wants to dig it deep.

Unfortunately, there’s no other way, because the angel is abso-fucking-lutely dull. She must kill it. She’s using all her might just for one fatal blow. Yet, there’s no blood; the angel is still smiling maliciously, keeping its composure; maybe waiting for her to get tired herself, and finally shut up. Slowly, the heroine starts to show the limit of her energy. After all, she’s just a human being. Her voice becomes weaker; soon it’ll be the end. But, even though I know for sure that my heroine will lose this battle, I can hear a faint whisper coming through her breath… ”this desperation is because of you!” … Some might think that it’s only some silly last words from a dying person, but for me, it show a determined will, and because of that, there’s a possibility for a hope; a hope that the heroine is just resting temporally; a hope that someday, she will wake up strongly and achieve her glory.

June 02, 2006

For critique about DIE DIE BABY DIE see:

http://somaphilia.blogs.friendster.com/somaphilia/2005/12/diediebaby_die.html