It was boredom, that which killed us, yet it was tedium, that which brought us back to life.
"Apocalypse watch: cult netlabel rises from the grave; cult re-assembled, then quickly disbanded by religious authorities, who call it a very tangible threat; cult leaders, resurrected but penniless, claim recognition and fresh beer to clear their throats from that dry, funny taste you get when you die; Hollywood offers a wad of dollars for the story of their enigmatic founder but cult leaders fight for royalties and end up killing each other all over again; unexplainably, the music is still free to download."
For something that’s been dead for nearly two years, Umor doesn’t really smell all that bad. Still, there is a stench, and therefore, the need for an apology. But first, a bit of history:
Umor was born at some point during 2006 and then starved to death somewhere in 2008. Despite its brief life and the crippling drug addictions of the people behind it, Umor managed to become mildly popular with some crowds: hip kids looking for cheap thrills (can’t get cheaper than free downloads); perennially frustrated housewives searching for that artsy pastime to show off during the weekly get-togethers with their equally vacuous and venomous friends; snobs and poseurs of all shapes and colors, hoping to be acknowledged by the opposite sex for their rather remarkable taste in esoteric, underground music with a vague pop sensibility and an even vaguer potential for future cult semi-stardom; and yes, why not, even those rare, smart individuals who actually enjoyed the music we published and were somewhat surprised by the high quality and weird beauty some of these free mp3 albums could offer.
So why then, did we let it rot and fade, why the criminal negligence, why work so hard on something if you’re going to turn your cold slimy back on it one day, and on all the artists that helped you build it?
Well, you see, you never did pay us one single cent for our efforts. Not one lousy peso. So you really have no right to ask that question, now do you? Still, we have big hearts, so we are going to give you an answer, and here it is:
Because we were drunk, probably.
There, hope that settles it.