/*empty set*/
Eye  | Home ◊ Noodlings ◊ Music ◊ Music is Stupid Search  | Site Map
I remember enjoying the first time I heard "Smells like Teen Spirit" while my friend's parents drove us home from a movie in their mini-van. He turned to me and said "I can't believe people think this is music...It'll never catch on." I remember thinking "I don't care if the music sucks, this is fun" while crowdsurfing my way up to the forward fence at Edgefest. Being a gangly teenager meant I was light enough and offered enough surface area to be propelled like a ragdoll. I remember hopping around frenetically while the sun came up at my first rave overlooking an isolated lake. It was the first I ever went too and probably the last I enjoyed. Do you know what all of this has taught me? The music scene is irredeemably retarded. I can't take it anymore. Unknowingly, as I've gotten older and been able to comment "done it," I've also found myself withdrawing from the public consumption of music. It's not that times "are a changin'" and I've suddenly become an anachronistic curmeudgeon. Instead, just how many concerts, clubs and parties can one go to before all of it just fails to disguise the growing pretentiousness of the experience? And while I admit that such a sentiment sounds like anti--mainstream pretentiousness in its own right, the environment for indie, college and niche music scenes are even worse. It seems any form of popular music that cultivates a following will be cannabilized by an insipid movement towards cliquishness. Hardly earth-shattering I know, but it's such an astounding pattern of perversion that every generation is subject to. It's so inevitable a development that it should be a primary tenet of psychohistory. Simply, how do you share in the public experience of music without becoming mired in convention rather than enjoyment? It's not the case that the music itself is stupefying--atleast not anymore than 99.7% of it has always been. Instead, the music scene's accompanying--and unavoidable--apocrypha of elitist sentiment deadens music for everybody. Also. it's not that people who bugout to the pop music du jour are the problem. No, It's the people who need to institutionalize the manners of enjoyment that dilute the experience for everyone. No wonder then that all musical scenes end up so ridiculously retarded: they take themselves so damn seriously. I've only experienced two decades of popular music culture ebbing and flowing, but I've seen more than enough to realize that the stylistic legitamacy of {insert any Rolling Stone Cover Artist here} or {insert emerging genre du jour here} matters about as much as the current whereabouts of Hitler's Left Nut. h3. "It's not the band I hate, it's their fans." Raves are chocked full of pretentious farts who complain about how diluted "the scene" has become--though they only got into "the scene" for the drugs anyway. Concerts are filled to the brim with sycophantic toadies who posess a radar for detecting posers in exchange for trading away their ability to have fun. Clubs and their suffocatingly pretentious trends need no further explanation. I know I come across as a misanthropic ex-scenester as well, what with all my criticisms of these scenes. Yet, it's not the state of all these scene's that I'm whining about. Rather, my gripe is that these ridiculous contraptions exist as ends unto themselves: Musical culture is a misnomer, it only serves to cultivate the ego's of people who'd behave like asses no matter what type of music they listened too. Damnit, music stops being fun when all these trappings of trendiness take themselves too seriously. It cannot just be ignored. The entanglements of popular music are nigh universal constants. It didn't take too much of them to get my fill and perhaps if my vices amounted to more than computers and chocolate, then drugs and alcohol may have been the secret to a prolonged ability to take it all seriously. People make music stupid and even people who took the blue pill awaken to that understanding at some point. Five years from now, nobody is going to care about how real their scene was anyway.

Comments

I used to think "man, music has gone downhill from when I was in junior high." Then I took the time to compare music from when I was in high school, the music after, and the music from the decades before. Even to compare traditional folk songs to all the last approximate century of pop, everything that can be said was said in the first few songs ever written. There's only so many tempos, keys, and arrangements of notes to go around too. Change the instruments and mixing, and all you're left with is a limited set of variations. Seriously, listen to some polka, disco, and dance music, and if you pay close attention you'll see what I mean. What matters is when it's NEW TO YOU. I remember in grade 8 I used to stay up late with my headphones on listening to Z95.3. These days I'd prefer the sleep. So what changed? Nothing, that's just what entertains me anymore. However, I still take enjoyment from the music that used to listen to, but now it's for nostalgia rather than novelty. Hearing the old songs somehow make me feel 13 again, when I was looking forward to the adult liberties and entertainments I now enjoy freely. So why don't I enjoy new music the same way? Because it's all the same. I already have my happy dance music, my angry power chords and sappy valentines day crud. Sometimes I add a new song to the old playlist, but as time goes by the new songs that stick to me get fewer and fewer. It's like a chemical reaction that slows as I approach an equilibreum. Even in equilibreum I think I'll still trade the occasional old favourite for something new, but the point is it gets old, like a drug I've developed a tolerance for. Come to think of it, I've heard that singing releases endorphines. I wonder if listening to music can have the same effect when you're into it? It might explain why high schoolers can gyrate for hours when confronted by a continuous barrage of music, and those of us who are no longer with it can't feel the buzz?

Hmmm... something else just popped into my head. If there's only so many radically different new things to be had, when will there be a generation that truly has heard it all, or an approximation thereof? What I'm specifically wondering is if music will change so very much that when I'm older I won't be able to distinguish tune from noise. Will music be so different when I have grandkids that I won't be able to find a single song that I like in everything they listen to? I won't be with it at that age, I know that, but could I like even one new song forty years from now? What would it take for me to hate all new music? Or is there going to be another change in me that I'll experience? Perhaps Kavin is more right than I know and he's actually chemically older than me, so to speak.

Posted by: Steve on January 23, 2004 11:31 PM