Fresh as a Daisy to Maisy
So I'm sitting here, a tad hyped up on an energy drink ( Sugar Free Sobe Arush. ... Screw Red Bull. That stuff is atrocious). Figured I would do an experiement to see how long the effects last on me. As a result, I have decided to shove out a blog. My playlist on random, this should be an interesting experiment. Maybe when I come down off my caffeine high "Last Kiss" will be playing. Apropos? Probably not.
I've been trying to think of a suitable first official musical blog entry. That whole first impressions thing always seems to ring true, so I best step lightly. As such, I'm going to do a tribute to the younger years of musical beginnings, my musical beginnings to be precise.
My personal music tastes never really surfaced until I was about 12. Unfortunately that put me in that akward era following grunge. You know the era I am talking about. You are starting to cringe in your seats because you know the horrible inevitability that is to come. That's right: the resurgance of teeny bopper pop music. I won't lie to you, I had my share of the happenings of the time. In amongst my collection remain the vestiges of this time. Fortunately I escaped quickly from the over-produced harmonies of Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, and that list goes on. I know somewhere in the pits of Hell Satan is laughing because Pearlman sold his soul to bring back pop music. O-town we hardly knew thee. But I digress.
I remember the age well. I was in grade 7 when the musical bug hit me. I generally seemed to be oblivious to popular music. I still have that tendency now a days, but that's just because I don't have the time to watch tv or listen to the radio. Granted I'm not missing much. Watching Much Music ad nauseum in order to watch the latest and greatest videos became a pasttime at that age. I still enjoy the horror-inspired Backstreet's Back video, but I'm a sucker for nostalgia. Oh the humanity. Don't hate me. Or do, I really don't care. I even still have some of the cds I acquired in my musical fledgling time. I won't sell them because hell they have sentimental value. Why hold on to old porn? Because it still gets you off right? That and noone really wants used porn. Same thing goes with music. You only get rid of music when it stops getting you off (musically of course). And as a good lesson to all you, noone wants that crap anymore, so you're better off keeping your memories.
From my teeny bopper era I moved into that eerie realm dominated by Limp Bizkit, Korn, Staind, you know what I am talking about. Like the teeny bopper phase, I still hold on to what I acquired then, but I have a general despising going on there. Not because Fred Durst is a paedophilic bastard, or that Jonathan Davis just got really ugly and creepy (Anyone been to his horror museum?), but rather that they never evolved. With the teenyboppers, they attempted to move beyond their bubblegum image. The Backstreet Boys have moved into adult contemporary, NSYNC has withered away into the background of Timberlake's Sexyback, and Bass's coming out, O-town....they were never interesting to begin with. I got sick of hearing the same rift, the same over-pained lyrics, and well the same inability to express with profuse profanity. I just have no respect for that. Much like I have no respect for a lot of the music industry as of late (or at all). How Joni-Mitchell-ish of me. That's another rant for a time when I have less bitterness. Not like that will ever happen. You know the story.
I fluttered through high school amidst a flurry of the Rap-Core, the resurgence of classic rock, and the increasing popularity of emo (see: middle class white kids with too much free time and the propensity to whine). In my grade 12 year I got my current job. I became the envy of my friends. " A Job in a music store? WOW!". I thought my luck was extroardinary, and in hindsight it was and still is. Around this time, my music tastes began to broaden. Granted they were broad to begin with, but this job brought me into a world of rarely heard artists, and the tastes of people outside my social circle. I'm grateful for this experience. Without it, I would still be stuck in a revolution of the likes of Puddle of Mudd and Hinder, or heaven forbid emo. Connor Oberst be damned.
More to come? Perhaps. This self-indulgent expose on my life (why won't alt+ codes work for me? I want my accent!) has been tiresome, and well I have a religious ethics paper to finish off.
Sell your soul, and make sure the rock and roll is worth it!
Song: Rock & Roll- Velvet Underground (oooohhh eerie)
Reading: Lady Chatterley's Lover- D.H. Lawrence
I've been trying to think of a suitable first official musical blog entry. That whole first impressions thing always seems to ring true, so I best step lightly. As such, I'm going to do a tribute to the younger years of musical beginnings, my musical beginnings to be precise.
My personal music tastes never really surfaced until I was about 12. Unfortunately that put me in that akward era following grunge. You know the era I am talking about. You are starting to cringe in your seats because you know the horrible inevitability that is to come. That's right: the resurgance of teeny bopper pop music. I won't lie to you, I had my share of the happenings of the time. In amongst my collection remain the vestiges of this time. Fortunately I escaped quickly from the over-produced harmonies of Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, and that list goes on. I know somewhere in the pits of Hell Satan is laughing because Pearlman sold his soul to bring back pop music. O-town we hardly knew thee. But I digress.
I remember the age well. I was in grade 7 when the musical bug hit me. I generally seemed to be oblivious to popular music. I still have that tendency now a days, but that's just because I don't have the time to watch tv or listen to the radio. Granted I'm not missing much. Watching Much Music ad nauseum in order to watch the latest and greatest videos became a pasttime at that age. I still enjoy the horror-inspired Backstreet's Back video, but I'm a sucker for nostalgia. Oh the humanity. Don't hate me. Or do, I really don't care. I even still have some of the cds I acquired in my musical fledgling time. I won't sell them because hell they have sentimental value. Why hold on to old porn? Because it still gets you off right? That and noone really wants used porn. Same thing goes with music. You only get rid of music when it stops getting you off (musically of course). And as a good lesson to all you, noone wants that crap anymore, so you're better off keeping your memories.
From my teeny bopper era I moved into that eerie realm dominated by Limp Bizkit, Korn, Staind, you know what I am talking about. Like the teeny bopper phase, I still hold on to what I acquired then, but I have a general despising going on there. Not because Fred Durst is a paedophilic bastard, or that Jonathan Davis just got really ugly and creepy (Anyone been to his horror museum?), but rather that they never evolved. With the teenyboppers, they attempted to move beyond their bubblegum image. The Backstreet Boys have moved into adult contemporary, NSYNC has withered away into the background of Timberlake's Sexyback, and Bass's coming out, O-town....they were never interesting to begin with. I got sick of hearing the same rift, the same over-pained lyrics, and well the same inability to express with profuse profanity. I just have no respect for that. Much like I have no respect for a lot of the music industry as of late (or at all). How Joni-Mitchell-ish of me. That's another rant for a time when I have less bitterness. Not like that will ever happen. You know the story.
I fluttered through high school amidst a flurry of the Rap-Core, the resurgence of classic rock, and the increasing popularity of emo (see: middle class white kids with too much free time and the propensity to whine). In my grade 12 year I got my current job. I became the envy of my friends. " A Job in a music store? WOW!". I thought my luck was extroardinary, and in hindsight it was and still is. Around this time, my music tastes began to broaden. Granted they were broad to begin with, but this job brought me into a world of rarely heard artists, and the tastes of people outside my social circle. I'm grateful for this experience. Without it, I would still be stuck in a revolution of the likes of Puddle of Mudd and Hinder, or heaven forbid emo. Connor Oberst be damned.
More to come? Perhaps. This self-indulgent expose on my life (why won't alt+ codes work for me? I want my accent!) has been tiresome, and well I have a religious ethics paper to finish off.
Sell your soul, and make sure the rock and roll is worth it!
Song: Rock & Roll- Velvet Underground (oooohhh eerie)
Reading: Lady Chatterley's Lover- D.H. Lawrence
posted by Matsie at 7:53 PM
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