heres some excerpts from my rider
i dunno if anyone cares about this stuff but im like obsessed with reading other peoples riders lol, so if ur anything like me perhaps this is of interest to you.
ill post the rest of it later but we’re refining it still
Listen, you seem like a good kid. I’ve tried to appreciate your whole manic pixie dirt squirrel vibe, and I’ve even tried to enjoy your albums. Really, I have, but at the end of the day, all the ecstasy at Coachella can’t get me past the fact that your music sounds like it was recorded in a Tokyo drainpipe by two feral cats violently fucking on top of a Casio VL-1.
Still, I respect you as an artist, and I’m happy for you. You’ve earned the right to go on tour. You have a dedicated fan base of emo rainbow scene kids whose parents are cool dropping them off a block away from your show. Legions of shoegazing trust fund gutter punks will pay full price on ticketmaster and proudly wear your merch. You are well on your way to becoming the Canadian Bjork, and I have no doubt that the rest of your life will be a vegan quirkfest of genre bending artistic endeavors. It’s all gonna work out for you, Grimes. Yours will be a life less ordinary.
Of course, one day when you least expect it, you will have a moment of clarity. It will happen many years from now, perhaps in the middle of a Lisa Frank collaboration where the two of you have locked yourselves in an abandoned Toys-R-Us to fingerpaint anime on a head full of acid. You will look up from your canvas filled with pink unicorn skulls and suddenly remember that time you posted your hospitality rider on tumblr.
“Absolutely no styrofoam, plastic, or foil containers may come in contact with food products," you will say out loud, and as the words escape your lips, you will realize how painfully ridiculous they sound. Lisa Frank will look over at you, her face pulsating with neon tiger stripes, and she will nod with ancient wisdom.
"Yes, you were once an idiot child," her soul will say. "You might as well have demanded the stagehands save electricity by lighting their farts on fire, but nevermind. The past is past." A chill will run down your spine and out through all your triangle shaped tattoos, and in that moment, you will come to understand the emotion known as shame.
That’s okay, though. You will find the nearest drum machine and write a Tuvan throat song about the experience that will get rave reviews from Pitchfork, because like I said, it’s all gonna work out for you.
Enjoy your charmed and eco-friendly life, Grimes. May you be visited my many cute bulldogs.
Yours in generational relevance,