Terrible Analogies

I love music.

Actually, “love” might be too understated of a term; it’s more of an unhealthy obsession.

When my eyes were opened to the world of music, I was introduced to, and indoctrinated into, the ways of The Cramps, Yello, Talking Heads, Violent Femmes, Sisters of Mercy, David Bowie, Kraftwerk, Bauhaus, Operation Ivy, The Strangers, The Jam, and The Replacements.

Fishbone, Oingo Boingo, Frank Zappa, The Cure, Nick Cave, The Damned, and The Nails provided me with my soundtrack for my more formative years.

And today, at this stage in my life, I’m still heavy into music.  Nearly every genre of music has hidden gems that often go overlooked.  In fact, right now, in heavy rotation on my iPod is Saul Williams, Dr. Octagon, Ancient Astronauts, Blind Pilot, T-Bone Burnett, Chinese Man, Combustible Edison, RJD2, Disturbed, Curtis Mayfield, LCD Soundsystem, Portugal The Man, Eagles Of Death Metal, and The Cat Empire.

I have over 350Gigs of music on my hard drive.  Let me tell you, backing that thing up takes hours.

My listening habits are so diverse that my brother-in-law recently asked me, “When Tyler rebels against you, what music could he possibly use?”

I could only laugh, shake my head, and reply, “Country?”.

But I can’t imagine any son of mine stooping so low as to bump country music from his car stereo.  I mean, could he be so cruel and spiteful?  

I remember the first time I saw you. It was at that Bauhaus concert in ’98. I fell in love with you at first glance, and I had a feeling that you felt the same about me. That night I held you for the first time, drove you home, and saw you again the very next day. Remember?

We were soon inseparable. Wherever I went you tagged along. And through the years we shared some amazing experiences.

Together we moved out from that small apartment and into a large home. You were with me when I adopted Nemesis from the pound. And it wasn’t soon after that she cuddled up next to us every night as we curled up on the couch.

We went to more than our fair share of concerts, movies, and sporting events. Remember the time when Trent Reznor threw a keyboard key at us? Call me jealous, but I think he was glancing at you throughout the show.

We soon moved again, this time into another home closer to where I worked. It was around that time that you disappeared for a several days.  I had no idea where you had gone. I thought I’d lost you, but one day you magically appeared in my living room. I can’t tell you how happy I was to see you again!

But as the years went by we both started showing our age. We settled down into the habit of laughing at late night talk show hosts together, then sneaking off to bed where you kept me warm on dark, cold nights. Time continued to march on, and it became evident that you were feeling a bit worn out. Threadbare.

I couldn’t help but notice holes in your once flawless veneer.

I find this tough to say, but I fear our relationship has come end. I can no longer stand by and watch you slowly fall apart on me.  It hurts me to see you like this.

I’ll always love you. You know that.  I’d like to tell you that we can still be friends, but you and I know that that would be a lie.

I miss you already.

You were my most favorite t-shirt…ever!

It’s a sad day for me whenever I have to retire a concert tour t-shirt.  I grew up listening to Bauhaus, but they broke up before I started attending concerts.  I thought that I’d never get to see one of my favorite bands of all time play live.  Lucky for me they reunited for their Gotham and Resurrection tours.  In 1998 I saw Bauhaus play live for the first time.

With much regret, my Bauhaus shirt was officially thrown away yesterday evening.

I’m still in mourning…

REM has called it quits.

I guess it eventually had to happen, but after having this band around for the past 31 years it feels strange to know that they’re gone.  I feel like I took them for granted, assuming that they’d forever be a part of the musical landscape, performing the songs that we’ve all come to love.

REM defined a generation.  They were an iconic bit of fluff that stuck on the collar of your Member’s Only jacket, the quote scrawled on to your high school yearbook by that weird kid with acne, and the Greenpeace advert proudly printed in the pages of Mother Jones.

They were the band that didn’t fit in, yet everyone wanted to be part of their clique.

And so, to the original members Michael, Peter, Mike and Bill, I want to thank you for the good times and unforgettable tunes.  Here’s hoping that I’ll bump into you at the back of some smoke-filled club as we watch yet another band of young people on stage try to take over the world, one song at a time…

From what I gather:

An anonymous psychopathic redneck takes out his pent-up aggressions on the on the fairer sex, proclaiming his undying love to those he courts whilst exhibiting unchecked homicidal tendencies. He laments upon each act of aggression, taking solace in the fact that what he could not provide in life he can bestow in death by keeping watch over the bodies of his many loves that he keeps buried under the floorboards of his claptrap domicile, where they’ll remain together. Forever.

All in all it’s a darn catchy and nifty little ditty.

Happy Friday?

It irks me to know that I live in a world where the likes of Justin Bieber, Katy Perry and Beyonce get more exposure than people like Dub FX:

But then again I guess music (and art in general) caters to the lowest common denominator. People like Justin Bieber and Katy Perry represent the glossy magazine, manufactured, showroom attraction that requires the least amount of critical thinking from a dumbed down and gullible society. The broad appeal of “artists” such as “The Biebs”, Ne-Yo and Trey Songz (if that is, indeed, your real name) shows a certain lack of critical thinking and discerning taste amongst a majority of music lovers.

Granted, art is subjective, and the end goal of many a successful musician is to gain a certain amount of mass appeal. But why do we judge the beauty and validity of art simply by how many albums a particular artist manages to sell?

And gifted artists that are hugely popular? These are those who strike an intimate chord in us, and often serve as some form of social significance or bookmark in time. Nirvana? Destroyed hair metal and ushered in a new form of music. Metallica? Brought metal music to the forefront of our collective consciousness. James Brown? The Godfather of soul & introducer of funk. Grand Master Flash & the Furious Five? The first rap/hip-hop act inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame. And where were you when Elvis, John Lennon, Joplin, Hendrix, Cobain and Jerry Garcia died?

Will people even notice when the likes of Perry, Bieber, Sisqo and Los del Rio leave this mortal coil? Much like the passing of the pet rock, the slinky and Cabbage Patch Kids I don’t believe they’ll be missed.

But hey, I guess everything has its place. The pap and the cheap can be exciting for a time, but the measure of an artist doesn’t necessarily equate to their position on the Billboard charts.