Somewhere in In a sleepy Philadelphia suburb, a 23-year-old clown is committed to an act that will make you laugh, make you sing along, completely baffle you, or all three.
Keenan Salazar, a native of Earth, has found his calling in creating perfect covers of classic rock songs that use nonsensical slang instead of the original lyrics, making his 12,000+ followers (and counting) laugh every day. He’s gained a lot of fans — and maybe even a few enemies, if you count the algorithmic takedown notice he received after publishing a post on his blog. A stunning version of the Eagles' 1972 hit “Take It Easy,” hijacking the original backing vocals to deliver “Skibidiiiiii rizz” in sunny four-part harmony.
Don Henley certainly didn't personally stop Salazar. He probably doesn't even know his name. However, this clip has been removed from Instagram in many regions. “It was banned in Australia and the UK,” says the singer, songwriter, guitarist and producer. Rolling Stone Outside a coffee shop and bookstore in Blackwood, New Jersey, near where he lives with his parents and sisters in the town of Depford.. (An Eagles spokesperson says: “The Eagles were not aware of the post until we were contacted by Rolling Stone No decision has been issued to cancel it.
None of this will stop him. Content creation may seem like a dark place, with the winds of copyright and algorithms blowing here and there—but he clings to hope. Part of that is because he’s smart; part of it is because he’s simply come up with a great idea. Sure, he’s working in the form known as “brain rot”—meaningless for meaningless sake. But Salazar achieves more than brain rot: His novel not only captures the magic of the songs we love, it also serves as a crash course in the Dada subculture, corrupted by the internet and spreading rapidly, for today’s youth.
Born in Manila in 2001, Salazar immigrated with his family from the Philippines to Philadelphia around the same time he lost his baby teeth. He grew up in a middle-class neighborhood, watching spongebob squarepantsHe was obsessed with music. By the age of 11, he was making YouTube videos, mostly covering songs he loved, like Guns N' Roses' “Sweet Child O' Mine.”
While studying at Berklee College of Music a few years later, someone noticed that his singing voice sounded hoarse. a lot Like Donald Fagen. He’s kept it under his hat while continuing to experiment as a content creator; he made waves early last year—to the tune of half a million views—by crafting a perfect anime theme song. Then, eureka moment: He’s as connected to Twitch and YouTube culture as he is to chords and ninths. What if you took Steely Dan’s “Reelin’ in the Years”? very Different role?
“Your constant meowing, you see it fading fast/So you go to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria for a snack,” Fagin sings in a weird, inventive way over the usual tune — and links references to a very popular internet trend involving jawline exercises and the viral game/movie. five nights at freddy's“Well, you wouldn’t even be able to identify the scammer if he was in the chat/The stuff you think is working, I can’t understand.” If you weren’t laughing at the radiant “skibidi sigma gyatt” tune – well, look at that last line.
(If you don't know any kids or don't have access to the internet, the word skibidi is a reference to a bizarre YouTube series that shows an army of severed heads running mobile toilets. Michael Bay is reportedly in talks for a movie and TV franchise about it. Oh my god… just Google it.)
The video went viral. By the time it was posted—six weeks after it was posted on July 2—Salazar’s remake of “Reelin’ in the Years” had been viewed more than 5.7 million times. That’s about 75 percent of New York City’s population. The comments were a sea of disturbing confusion—not just at the random, offensive juxtaposition, but also out of genuine bewilderment at the language used. “I was born in 1997,” one person said. “What’s the Phantom Tax?” (I’ll let you comment.) Rolling Stone(Jeff Ihaza is that field.)
Salazar has continued to perform Dan Brainrot songs, following them up with equally inspiring tracks on “Big,” “Do It Again,” “Josie,” “Ricky Don’t Lose That Number” and so on. Since then, Salazar has turned to bands like the Doobie Brothers, King Crimson, Hall & Oates, Rush and, of course, the Eagles. He’s even gone so far as to introduce the hardcore band Pierce the Veil. But for now, Salazar says, what he calls “Steely Brainrot” is the main draw.
He doesn’t use AI, thank you very much; this stuff is 100 percent organic, and if he can’t use a backing track, he’ll build an exact recreation from scratch. And to keep the clip fresh—there’s a finite number of times he can use “skibidi,” “rizz,” or “Ohio”—he keeps as many recent references as possible. (The internet is currently buzzing about controversial creator Adin Ross gifting Trump a Rolex and a Cybertruck, which sounds pretty cool from Henley’s lungs: hint, hint.)
If all of this isn't crazy enough, Salazar keeps a detailed spreadsheet called the “Gen Z/Alpha Word Rhyme Bank.” From “$16 Big Mac” to “zesty,” Salazar lists the rhyme values and syllable counts, making sure each syllable flows just right.
Part of the spreadsheet Salazar uses to write song lyrics, with slang terms listed next to their rhyme and syllable equivalents.
Courtesy of Kenan Salazar
But as the Eagles’ uproar makes clear, Salazar’s approach isn’t without its drawbacks. Salazar’s version of Steely Dan’s “Babylon Sisters,” in which he says, “Baton Sigma, shake it!” was promptly removed in August. “I have a feeling that this only happened because my account was already flagged as ‘previously infringing,’” he says.
The problem, he says, is that he used the actual backing tracks of famous songs, rather than reproducing them from scratch. “As much as possible, I like to use the original track, for accuracy,” he says.
Salazar—a genial, intelligent, introverted but talkative man—doesn’t take it personally when classic rock gods or their copyright enforcers impose their authority. Like multi-instrumentalist and celebrated educator Rick Peto in his many YouTube videos, he simply questions the long game that the censors are intent on playing.
“It’s something intangible, but at the same time very tangible,” Salazar reflects on this music that was intended only as a loving and ridiculous tribute to it. “Whether you agree with it or not, it belongs to the culture at this point.”
Ultimately, Eagles and Dunn's overthrow didn't matter much: on both “Take It Easy” and “Babylon Sisters,” he composed new backing tracks, and got better (Okay, almost no one saw his first version of “Babylon Sisters,” but still.)
Just over a month after the first Steely Brainrot was released, Salazar is just getting started.
“I’m someone who doesn’t like to be told to shut up after a joke,” he says. “If I feel like the record label is trying to shut me up, I’ll say, ‘No. I’m going to tell this joke louder, and I’m going to find out why you don’t like it, and I’m going to make sure everyone hears it.’”
