Andrew Jimenez in  Alternative , Folk Rock

Location

Queens, NY

Andrew Jimenez On the Web

Official Site

I was once the King of Montezuma; all coin and paper money there bore my profile. Then one day, I (foolishly, I now know) decided to go to college at Florida State University. Florida State University exists in a town called "Tallahassee" in a region called "Floirda" in a land called "United States." No one in this Tallahassee even knew Montezuma existed, nevermind believed I was the king of such a place; I was surrounded by a village of idiots, each whom believed they were the king.

While I was there--in Tallahassee--despite all the odds, I found a beautiful woman and we moved in to a meager, two-bedroom palace together. It was very romantic at first, but we soon realized that she would not be a suitable queen for me--nor I a suitable king for her. Around this same time, I recieved in an official ceremony what I consider to be a useless piece of paper, but what everyone assured me was an important document called a "degree." This degree proclaimed that I was now a graduate of English with a focus in Creative Writing, certified by the Dean of the Liberal Arts College at Florida State University. Upon recieving my degree, I said goodbye to my failed queen, and sent my royal messenger to Montezuma to tell all of my return. Little did I know, he would not live to see my return.

With my adventure into college a decidedly unadventurous failure, I returned to my homeland to reclaim my throne. In my absence, I left my cowardly brother to rule over my beloved people, the Montezumans. What a mistake! Had I known that, upon my untriumphant return, I would find my people slain and my traitorous brother a servant of white men who came over the sea on large ships, I of course would have never left. Angry that the very men who gave me my silly declaration of graduation sent their own brethren over to my country with orders to kill and take-over, I realized I should have killed them while I had the chance--instead of working so niavely to recieve such a perposterous document.

Had the white men been planning this the whole time? I wondered. Is this why they lured me to their Tallahassee? I felt so foolish. While I sat on a lonely mountaintop, watching the smoke of my former home rise in apologia to the Gods, an idea--like a vision from those Gods--began to form in my mind.

One of the few good things I gleaned from my time in that wicked place was a new world of music through classes I took at Florida State University's Ethnomusicology program. In these classes, I learned about Gamelan, which is the native music of a mystical land called Indonesia. Through socialization, I also recieved an informal education on the seductive world of American Pop Music.

So it was with this knowledge that I decided, on that mountaintop overlooking the ruins of the land I loved, to take vengence upon these fat white men by moving to the city of their New York and assuming the humble personage of a singer/songwriter. It will be through the popularity I will gain by my heartbreakingly catchy melodies and sweet rythmn that I will take over their beloved, horrible America and reveal it's true ugly form to the world through powerful lryical imagery--the skills for which I learned from their very academic institution--Florida State University!

Sandwiches, people, and things that are sad.