thank you for the music

I’m not a music elitist. Really. My darling Big Cuz would beg to differ but he also loves the Backstreet Boys (and if a fully grown 25-year-old man seriously believes that the Backstreet Boys are “great musicians” and expects anything less than endless mockery and patronizing sighs every time the topic of music – or anything else for that matter – comes up then the world is worse off than I have ever expected). I might get a trifle involved & ridiculously possessive with certain bands & songs sometimes, but I am also acutely aware that, hey! It’s just rock n’ roll man! And I am utter shite at these things anyway! Many a-time have I been caught not only singing proudly to the Bee Gees and praising the disco gods that are ABBA (hello?! Aluminum sashes? PURE GENIUS!), but also happily dancing to the Pussycat Dolls (or is it PCD now? Am I cool yet?) and the completely fabulous bollocks that is this. Yes, ladies & gents, I am a shameless dancing whore, and therefore in no position to pass any musical judgements at all.

Also, unlike other hardcore musical snobs that I lovingly know (hey there, deary! How’s it going?), I listen to the radio. *gasps* And not that socially aware pretentious informative one either, no - it’s mainstream radio for me, baby! I enjoy its peppy chatter. Usually, while meandering through my morning routine as to not pass out from the buzzing silence as I brush my teeth, you understand. Or as I go through my besoins matinaux. Which means I mostly haven’t a clue of what is going on other than I mustn’t pass out and fall asleep in my own wee. (No, thank you, morning radio!)

However, it has alarmingly come to my attention that an increasing number of utter & complete shite curiously composed music has gained more and more airwaves time recently, which not only cause the little number of functioning neurons left in my brain to auto-prune but to wake me up in an angry jolt at the sheer offensive unpleasantness of it all. Here are but a few causes for my concern:

Covers & remakes.
Or Much Of The Same Old Thing. Only Not As Good.

It seems that covers and/or remakes are becoming as fashionable as footless tights again. And just like the bewildering piece of clothing, it takes a certain flair to carry it off. A flair that unfortunately is missing in most.

These days, it's Eric Prydz’ 'Proper Education' that is constantly dubbed in me neck of the woods. It’s not that it is bad – or even that it’s a clubby dance remix of Pink Floyd playing at 9 in the morning (and let’s face it, I’d probably embarrassingly shake my ass like no tomorrow if it were played in an actual club, regardless of what time of day it is). The problem it’s that…well, it’s not that particularly good either. Or even – dare I pretentiously say it – relevant. I mean, if you are going to take a well known classic from a 70’s cult rock band with enough hardcore fan base to ruminate in their basement and strike a half-baked outrageous whiny letter to spam the daylights out of the gorgeous Mac on which you produced the song in the first place, at the very least, do something interesting with it, eh. Like this. Biased? Completely. But notice how, in this version, the Scissor Sisters managed to retain the gloomy disillusioned mood of the original while leaving the cringing angst behind for some uber groovy & sexy beats. It’s inventive! It’s fabulous! It’s Is-It-Me-Or-Is-It-Getting-Hot-In-Here kind of music that grabs you by the balls every time you listen to it and doesn’t let go! (Which sure beats vapidly giving a few disinterested pokes to it, now donnit?)

Then, there’s this Gary Jules’ cover of Tears For Fears 'Mad World' that completely defies my purpose of listening to the radio altogether and sends me collapsing in the sink in a bad case of narcolepsia. Ironically, I tend to indulge in these very sentimental slow naval-gazing soppy songs, so if I think it induces untimely comatosis – may it be voluntary or not, due to its monotone and boring beat rather than its depressing content – then, Houston, we have a problem. And how is it that it’s becoming so popular now? Wasn’t this a song featured in Donny Darko some 6 years ago? Why the sudden resurgence?

…Just like footless tights! A-ha! So the mystery starts to unravel….


Boys. Bands. And boybands.

Okay. Justin Timberlake. I must humbly admit that there was a foolish time in my ‘youth’ where I’ve thought, “Huh. He’s kinda cute, isn’t he? And wow, what great skin!”, but that was back when he’d just started his solo career and really caught me by surprise by not definitely sucking [said, I note, in a sexy German accent]. Now, I am convinced that he is on a one-man quest to bring back Castrati on the forefront of fashion again, and unless you are a pedophile hidden under the veil of a catholic priest (hiss!), I really don’t understand why more people aren’t marching against this most barbaric of trends. Instead, Mister Timberlake is swarmed in popularity & praise wherever he goes and even succeeds to make out with the incredibly hawt Scarlet Johansson in his over-hyped and bore-me-to-tears video, which begs the question, “Why, Scarlet, why?” No, seriously, why? At least with Michael Jackson, it was always flabbbergastingly cool (even when he started making out with Elvis’ daughter, we were all morbidly fascinated – that was entertainment!). As for comparison with Prince (for shame!), I believe Mr. Purple Rain has well proven that he had a fair dose of testosrone during his adolescence to reach a decent C.

It is also possible that I may have missed the memo where 12-year-old boys were hot & sexy.
Balls. I’m always left out from these things.

*pouts*

In other boy news, has anyone heard of this guy?


When I first heard him on the radio, I almost shat in my pants thinking Queen had released a hidden track and no one bothered telling me about it. When the truth was revealed that no, Freddie Mercury did not come back to gloriously haunt our airwaves again, I struggled between feeling a little robbed & outraged that this Mika had the insolence to imitate one of the greatest rock n’ roll voices of all time and secretly comforting myself that it wasn’t actually that godawful… Alas, the song tends to get highly on one’s nerve after the third listen, by which time you’ve successfully determined that though similar, he definitely lacks Mercury’s, well, talent. And charisma.

Oh Freddy, you are still the original one & only Fag to the Hag in my heart.
Le sigh.

While on the topic of voices, why wouldn’t Fall Out Boy crawl back to wherever it was they fell from? Their whinging screeching through my speakers is starting to pain me to tears. I know, it took some time but I’d always believed that patience was a virtue and they’d run out of air soon enough. Was that hopeful thinking? Wassit? Because, WHY WILL THEY NOT LEAVE?!

The only problem I fear is, once these emo squealing dolphin-boys are drowned away from the musical ocean (see what I did there? Dolphins? Ocean? Ha! I’m so rad…), old sharks (okay, will stop with the aquatic metaphor now) shall come back with a bloody vengeance…. Bon Jovi? I’m talking to you here. Oh, Bon Jovi, what a love/shame relationship I have with thee…. You were so great back in the day with your long 80’s mop and sleazy tees and ripped jeans, singing and promising debauched love & infidelity with damn-it-all attitude while riding your motorcycle into the sunset like the soft little toughie you wanted me to believe. How many times have I risked being thrown out from a speeding car as I insisted on wailing 'You Give Love A Bad Name' on top of my lungs… Good times. Why then must you return from rock n’ roll heaven with hip trendy haircuts and fashionable leather jackets with half-assed written self-important ballads to shatter my 14-year-old dreams of you? WHY?!

*weeps in her sleeves*

This is starting to bring me down. I seriously need to find me some hot rocker boy to inappropriately perv and conceive many adventurously steamy fantasies over. Any suggestion is welcomed.


Gangsta rap.

I don’t get it.

That is all.

Please don’t shoot me.


Ô Canada, land of crap music!...

Alright. That was a bit harsh. And rather untrue actually.

There is indeed great music grown in this land I live – Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Feist, K-os, Tegan & Sara, The New Pornographers, to name but a few from the English side of the medal. But that’s not exactly what’s being massively exported now, is it? It’s not even getting most of domestic airtime. Instead, you know what we get to hear day in, day out, every fucking day? DO YOU? Go on, have a guess!










NICKELBACK, that’s what!
NICKEL. FUCKING. BACK. Why in the world would anyone want to release this unredeeming horror of a band from our borders – any borders! – is beyond me. Oh! how it shames me…. And I’m not even the least bit nationalistic at all! But is that sort of utter horseshite that's known as "Canadian music"!? (That, and Ann Murray. But let’s leave poor Ann out of this, she didn’t spawn the devil child that is Chad Kruger.) *shudders* God, I feel dirty just saying their name. And not in that good naughty-dirty kinda way either. That can’t possibly be healthy, now is it? That’s not what music is suppose to do? Ever. And can someone please tell me how to differentiate one of their song from another? Or is it just the same old rubbish being endlessly played in countdowns for the past 5 years? Shouldn’t that be illegal? No, really. I NEED TO KNOW!

Oh, and as if that wasn't enough to make one wants to change nationality, who can forget about "our little Canadian princess"? No, I am not talking about this:


but rather this:
Lady Lavigne who, for all the money & marital bliss in California, would not shut up. Sadly. And while I’m fully aware the very high risk of her stalking me down to scratch my skin off and spit in my face, this is something that must be said. For your own good, Avril. Really. May I call you Avril? I don’t care. Listen, Avril, you are quite pretty to look at, seriously. Looking at photo above, no one would think you’re an obnoxious mentally insipid little brat who hadn’t cleaned her nails in three years. I’ve heard you were interested in modeling, or *contains vomit* ‘acting’ a bit. Which is great! Really! As long as you never ever open your mouth again. Please? I’m sure you’d be quite pleasant as a little model. You really do have great facial features, which pains me to see them being so utterly deformed with your constant grimacing & tongue-pulling. It makes me want to slap you. And come to think of it, I don’t even mind if you land a speaking role in a movie at all, for (a) it would hopefully be someone else’s lines & not your own incomprehensible slurring that will be excreted from your perfectly defined lips, and (b) if I don’t want to watch your *contains vomit* 'acting' I will simply not go see the movie, instead of having to endure your banshee voice that every goddamn radio station forces me to listen every goddamn morning! So, it's a win-win situation! Hurrah!

Except for the dancing. What’s all that about, eh? Is that suppose to be "ironic"? Was that the aim? Were you drunk? Because, like, I don’t, like get it.

Like.

… Then again, is it all just me? Am I too old to "get with it"? Am I "out of the loop"? Am I not "hip" enough? Not "in with the crowd"? And, more importantly, when the hell was I ever anyway? So many unanswered questions....

*sighs heavily*

In any case, as I am waiting for my new music to come in through the mail (I love you, Amazon!), here’s to hoping that they will make me all forget & forgive the above and that I won’t throw my radio through the wall in a fit of uncontrollable morning rage. With these new purchases, I really can’t afford any renovation.