YEAR-END MUSIC
For the first time in my life, I've made a year-end list compiled by someone who does not know me. The House of Blondes made Nick Southall's Top Records of the Year. Nick used to be the senior writer at the much-missed Stylus Magazine. A lot of people should be proud of their contributions to this record, but for now, cheers to me.
For the past four years, I've compiled a cd-r of songs I was introduced to during the calendar year. I used to have a thirst for new music and a historian's monocle for gems for treasures past.
Not so this year. For a number of reasons, I reached a saturation point where, at least in the rock music category, I hit equilibrium. After being disappointed by new releases from a number of bands who I'd loved in years past, I realized that of the 60-80,000 rock songs I've heard in my life so far, I'm set. I've heard enough. Most new music I hear is worse than most of any rock song I've heard before.
In high school I had classic rock shoved down my throat, injected into my blood stream and formed into puppets and magicians that put shows on in my garage. I was psyched in high school to spot the backup goalie of the St. Louis Blues at the Eric Clapton show on his 'Journeyman' tour. I got a boner anytime K-SHE 95 would play 'Never Been any Reason' by Head East. But I came to resent the McConaugheys in my Midwest teenage years turn "Skynyrd!" into an interjection, and I went searching for music of my times.
Well, my times are over. For the first year I'm getting all my pleasure from re-listening to what I've already accumulated (partially due to the fact that I hate new music and the way it sounds, but we'll save that anger for a future post. I'm not angry at you, world, I'm just playing hard-to-get.)
Apparently, I'm not as crazy as I thought. Noel Murray, critic from The Onion, has apparently reached the same saturation point. In this blog post, he iterates that he's going to stop listening to new music for 10 months. I heartily applaud him, and guarantee he will lose his thirst the same way I did. I absolutely guarantee it. To be safe, in case I'm wrong, I've kidnapped his grandma. She's a sweet, sweet woman. She just crocheted her own handcuffs. It brought a tear to me eye.
I'm actually a year ahead of Noel; he plans to listen to ABBA and lots of other crap. This year, I'm planning to listen to a lot more of...no music. Silence is a nice change of pace. Recently, more than music, it beckons me to listen.
So shut up, everybody. Happy New Year.
For the past four years, I've compiled a cd-r of songs I was introduced to during the calendar year. I used to have a thirst for new music and a historian's monocle for gems for treasures past.
Not so this year. For a number of reasons, I reached a saturation point where, at least in the rock music category, I hit equilibrium. After being disappointed by new releases from a number of bands who I'd loved in years past, I realized that of the 60-80,000 rock songs I've heard in my life so far, I'm set. I've heard enough. Most new music I hear is worse than most of any rock song I've heard before.
In high school I had classic rock shoved down my throat, injected into my blood stream and formed into puppets and magicians that put shows on in my garage. I was psyched in high school to spot the backup goalie of the St. Louis Blues at the Eric Clapton show on his 'Journeyman' tour. I got a boner anytime K-SHE 95 would play 'Never Been any Reason' by Head East. But I came to resent the McConaugheys in my Midwest teenage years turn "Skynyrd!" into an interjection, and I went searching for music of my times.
Well, my times are over. For the first year I'm getting all my pleasure from re-listening to what I've already accumulated (partially due to the fact that I hate new music and the way it sounds, but we'll save that anger for a future post. I'm not angry at you, world, I'm just playing hard-to-get.)
Apparently, I'm not as crazy as I thought. Noel Murray, critic from The Onion, has apparently reached the same saturation point. In this blog post, he iterates that he's going to stop listening to new music for 10 months. I heartily applaud him, and guarantee he will lose his thirst the same way I did. I absolutely guarantee it. To be safe, in case I'm wrong, I've kidnapped his grandma. She's a sweet, sweet woman. She just crocheted her own handcuffs. It brought a tear to me eye.
I'm actually a year ahead of Noel; he plans to listen to ABBA and lots of other crap. This year, I'm planning to listen to a lot more of...no music. Silence is a nice change of pace. Recently, more than music, it beckons me to listen.
So shut up, everybody. Happy New Year.
posted by stinkrock at 2:20 AM
3 Comments:
"It's over kid, you missed it. The swill merchants have won..."
I past this point a few years ago. Look to other genres to rekindle. The better players have moved around a bit. There is still good stuff under the rocks and snow, but it won't be found on the dank surface that is todays rock scene.
BTW, I've siad it a million times, the House o' Blondes record rocks. Well done all of you guys.
I hope this doesn't include your own music. On second thought, it would be an interesting experiment to make a record without hearing any of it... "He plays by sense of smell." Follow the Stink.
Can I have your iPod then?
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