Wow, that’s so incredibly gracious of you to reach out and share the carefully crafted demos you recorded in your friend’s basement while blackout drunk! I can’t wait to press play on this bad boy as I’m sure, of all the unsolicited band links I receive, your unfinished, unpolished demos are going to very much reward me for clicking.
But, hey, while we’re sharing sloppy works-in-progress, could you do me a solid and peep these accounts receivable claims? Thanks bunches.
Work is breathing down my neck and, while I typically wait until these spreadsheets are fully approved by supervisors before submitting to the clients themselves, I thought you would definitely have a great time giving everything a once-over.
What’s that? You don’t want to? Come on, it’ll be fun! It’s actually pretty similar to you expecting me to enjoy your band’s amateurish, muffled recordings, isn’t it? Sure, you could spend your afternoon reading the literary classics of Chinua Achebe, Harper Lee, or Sandra Cisneros, but I truly believe that these incomplete debts owed to my employer are just as good. Come on, these spreadsheets really mean a lot to me! I’m sure they have just as much artistic merit as this first track you sent me, “Shitfight (Redux).”
Seems like a fair trade, right? I spend time ignoring my own thoughts to hear your poorly EQ’ed guitar amp and out-of-tune vocals and you can scan my inaccurate, typo-filled Excel mastery. My unfinished spreadsheets are art. They’re like jazz; it’s the numbers I’m not crunching.
Actually, while you’re at it, why don’t you also make a “music video” that solely consists of shots of you in your rehearsal space and apartment? Preferably in black-and-white, so I can really feel the vibe. In return, I can send you a time-lapse video of me in my cubicle. We are both artists in the exact same way.