That stuff is fine, the joyful rush of pop music cannot be denied - nor should one attempt to. On the other hand we must recognise pop for what it is, with its limitations as clear as its pleasures.
Sometimes one needs more, music of a greater depth and density, nourishment for the soul and also the mind - two concepts often wrongly considered to be in opposition to each other, as though in any moment when one truly feels sonething, they must of necessity also be a literal idiot until that feeling and all other leaves them. And by that same token, anyone acting rationally must be almost by definition an unfeeling automaton, barely half a person.
Even so it's hard to unite the two halves, only the greatest artworks can heal the soul and stimulate the mind. Drop Your Pants by DJ Fuck Off is one of the very very few that can do those things and more.
Noone can fail to be moved by the sublime, aching melancholic beauty that lies at the heart of this masterpiece, while at the same time the mind is dazzled, staggered by the simple complexity and the multiple layers of meaning packed into the deceptively straightforward lines - one could meditate for days on the meaning of the stanza where she says "fuck me" forty-seven times in a row without ever beginning to approach the tortuously twisting truth which mockingly wriggles away from under your hand just when you thought you had grasped it. My descriptions could never do it justice, you will simply have to listen to it. Also the beat is pretty sick.