I’m what you might call a music snob or…music elitist. I listen to stuff that I think is good, disregard the standard poppy/rappy crap and voice my musical opinion to whoever listens. I have strong opinions about Madonna’s last album and her albums before that. I have issues with Coldplay’s latest album, to whom I feel betrayed. It’s good to have an opinion about SOMETHING, my 8th grade English teacher told me during a debate portion of our class. To have an opinion meant you had a brain, with thoughts in it. My father, while I was working on my index cards for my Pro-Life side of our debate the next day, said I was too young to have an opinion, that I hadn’t had enough experience to have anything to say about anything. That’s stuck with me since. So if I have an opinion, or if something rocks, or sucks, I tell you. Because I have an opinion. You don’t have to listen, but I’m going to tell you what I think.
And here’s the what. I have become increasingly aware over the past, well, three years that there are bands out there that basically exist under the horizon line, never bobbing up onto the the surface, happy blowing bubbles under the water of near-obscurity.
I like these bands. I like the indie-don’t-give-shit-we’ll-put-out-our-own-record-and-tour-in-my-mom’s-van attitude. I want to keep them in my pocket. I want them to stay small and not want to get famous and tour tiny little venues and shhh…just don’t go on TRL, promise. And when they do get big, I kind of back away going “Who the HELL are you?” Ah, Coldplay. They broke my heart. They could’ve been SMALL, I tell you! They could’ve just remained on that slow-mo, out of focus Yellow beach forever. Ok, Rush of Blood to Head kicked ASS. But that started their rapid, steady decline into Crapdom. They could’ve been great.
But I digress…
I think this is why I like Wilco, Spoon, Neko Case and some others so much. Wilco has existed for SO long and they’ve only had one “major” hit, which was ‘Box Full of Letters’ which hit the charts when I was effing high school, for Christ’s sake. These bands seem to exist in my head, my own private orchestra, full of emotion and hidden meaning. Listening makes me feel better. It makes me think and dance and write and sing. I feel lucky to have them, knowing I’ll NEVER have to make choice between listening to Fergie’s new album or that great new P Diddy single. God, it makes me want to put my head through a plate glass window, it really does. It’s almost unbearable. Ugh.
Music is important to me. It’s a tangible memory. It’s a memory I can listen to.
Playlist from this evening (as you can see, the Zune shuffle can be a bit weird)
Mer Girl, Madonna
29, Ryan Adams
Believe, Gus Gus
Polybackwards, Gus Gus
Nature is the Law, Richard Ashcroft
Small Stakes, Spoon
The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine, Spoon (“Every morning, I’ve got a new chance.”)
They’re Winning, the Walkmen
Kicking Television (live), Wilco
Blues Die Hard, Uncle Tupelo
Year of Our Lord, Sufjan Stevens
Heaven, the Talking Heads
My Mathematical Mind, Spoon (possibly one of my favorite songs…Britt Daniel has one of the voices, man.)
Death of a Disco Dancer, the Smiths
God Put a Smile Upon Your Face, Coldplay
Love is the New Feel Awful, the Dandy Warhols
sentimental geek 