I legally changed my name to “World’s Strongest Man” around the time that I became the strongest man in the world. This was to celebrate the fact that all those years of lifting, diet management, training, focus, creatine, steroids, reading bodybuilding.com forums, etc. were absolutely worth it. But immense physical strength comes, I have found, with immense psychic loneliness. People do not love me for me; they only love that I pick up very large objects on basic cable programs dedicated to various feats of strength. When I go to shake the hand of a prospective new friend, they recoil, anxious that I might accidentally crush their miniscule bones. But I, the World’s Strongest Man, am gentle. I am kind. I am worthy of love, as we all are. I blog about music on the Nina Protocol in the hopes of showing my true nature to the world.
I do, however, have one friend, and that friend is the producer Teen Daze. He respects my takes on things like the synth tones on Emeralds’ Does It Look Like I’m Here?, and I appreciate the unknown city pop jams he sends me in return. Last weekend we got together at a random bad bar in Brooklyn and protein-maxed by swallowing raw eggs whole. Teen Daze started the year by winning a Juno, which is the Canadian version of a Grammy. (I appreciate the design of the Juno statuette, for it is gold and pyramid-like and therefore heavier than the leg-day-ass zinc alloy that makes up the Grammy trophy, but that’s a take for another post.) He spent a good chunk of the year putting out various EPs from his home studio in the Vancouver-ish area, and ended it by temporarily relocating to Los Angeles. His most recent release is Quiet City, a three-song cycle that I listened to on repeat while blasting through the second-most meditative workout I had last Friday. It was so good that I awarded it the vaunted Nina Staff Pick.