I’ve built my whole life around loving music. I’m a writer for ‘Rolling Stone,’ so I am constantly searching for new bands and soaking up new sounds.
It takes only one bad amp to turn your ears to oatmeal: That’s how old hippies became Yanni fans.
Like most fans of ‘So You Think You Can Dance,’ I wouldn’t know a pasodoble if it beat me with a rake.
Rebecca Black might sing like a robot, but that’s just proof she has evolved beyond us. Her vocal is just a slightly exaggerated version of the robot glitch-twitch stutter that’s been mainstream pop vocalese for the past 10 years or so.
Ron Swanson is more than the MVP of the ‘Parks and Recreation’ squad, more than just the funniest character on TV – he’s the perfect depiction of aggrieved American manhood at the twilight of the empire.
When Ke$ha tries to rap like L’Trimm, she sounds like any ordinary lonely teenage girl stuck in a nowhere town, singing along to her radio and dreaming of a party where she’s the star. Ke$ha’s greatness is that in her voice, you can hear both the loser girl and the star. All hail the Queen of Noi$e!
You can hear the Celtic heartbeat all over Europe and America, from Bing Crosby to Jack White, from the Smiths to My Bloody Valentine, from House of Pain to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.
You’d think if anyone could charm America into caring about the evening news, it would be Katie Couric, the Tri Delt from Virginia who became America’s sweetheart on the ‘Today’ show. But her ratings have been dismal – she comes in last place every week.
The dilemma of the eighth-grade dance is that boys and girls use music in different ways. Girls enjoy music they can dance to, music with strong vocals and catchy melodies. Boys, on the other hand, enjoy music they can improve by making up filthy new lyrics.
If the girls keep dancing, everybody’s happy. If the girls don’t dance, nobody’s happy.
That’s the secret of ‘True Blood’ – all the creatures that roam Bon Temps become a metaphor for our insatiable lusts and inner desires. Humans craving what they can’t have and those secret appetites transforming them into beasts, or even killers.
The 2000s were the time when bromance became a kind of love that dared to speak its name. As a high-water mark of bro culture, nothing can ever top the MTV series ‘Bromance,’ with Brody Jenner and his search for a new BFF.
The first season of ‘Community’ stumbled a bit because the plotlines too often veered into realism, but that is not a problem anymore. Not when prize episodes concern a campuswide blanket fort, or a secret garden with a magic trampoline.
If all music did was bring the past alive, that would be fine. You can hide away in music and let it recapture memories of things that used to be. But music is greedy and it wants more of your heart than that. It demands the future, your future. Music wants the rest of your life. So you can’t rest easy. At any moment, a song can come out of nowhere to shake you up, jump-start your emotions, ruin your life.
The Word ‘Repulse’: I hate this word. I believe ‘repel’ is a perfectly good word, and ‘repulsion’ is the noun, as well as the title of an excellent Dinosaur Jr. song. A compulsion compels you; an impulse impels you. Nobody ever says ‘compulse’ or ‘impulse’ as a verb. So why would you ever say ‘repulse’? This word haunts me in my sleep, like a silver dagger dancing before my eyes. Renee looked it up and I was wrong. But I still kind of think I’m right.
Singing what’s in your heart? Naming the things you love and loathe? You can get hurt that way. Hell, you will get hurt that way. But you’ll get hurt trying to hide away in all that silence and leave your life unsung. There’s no future without tears. Are you really setting your hopes on not getting hurt at all? You think that’s an option? You clearly aren’t listening to enough Morrissey songs.
I believe that when you’re making a mix, you’re making history. You ransack the vaults, you haul off all the junk you can carry, and you rewire all your ill-gotten loot into something new. You go through an artist’s entire career, zero in on that one moment that makes you want to jump and dance and smoke bats and bite the heads off drugs. And then you play that one moment over and over. A mix tape steals these moments from all over the musical cosmos, and splices them into a whole new groove.
Something I really enjoy about older couples is that they really have given up on getting everything right. They don’t sweat the imperfections.
When Renee and I talked about it years later, we agreed on one point: We were insane. Renee always said, “If any of our kids want to get married when they’re twenty-five, we’ll have to lock them in the attic.” We were just kids, and everybody who came to the wedding party was guilty of shameful if not criminal negligence – look at the shiny pretty toaster, isn’t it cute to see the babies playing with it in the bathtub? Jesus, people!
The important thing isn’t that we’re freakazoidal about the same things – it’s that she’s as freakazoidal about her stuff as I am about mine, and that enthusiasm can’t help but unite us, even if the object thereof doesn’t. If two people are twisted enough to connect on a deep level, it’s only natural there will be lots of angles where they don’t connect at all.