I seem to
have developed a secondary musical taste.
Yes, it’s a
strange thing to say. Normally when one talks about developing a secondary
anything they’re usually referring to some bizarre mutation: secondary organs,
secondary limbs, or any other biological redundancy that might result from
proximity to Chernobyl. I’ve never been off this continent, let alone within
range of Ukraine, and so I’m unable to link this newly discovered tangential fondness
to the ill effects of radiation, but it’s a mutation nevertheless.
I’m not trying
to say my musical tastes are superior in any way. My iTunes library includes,
among other similarly questionable works, the original score to Punisher: War Zone. I’ve also previously
established how some plain and seemingly inoffensive hit singles are actually
darkly sophisticated, so I’m not averse to giving these tunes their proper dues.
But the fact is I’ve come to unironically embrace songs I’ve previously scorned
not in spite of what used to turn me off about them—excessive synthesizers,
overproduction, lyrical and thematic cheesiness—but because of them. Keep in mind I don’t at all feel ashamed; I might
be many things, but a hipster I am not. I’m more surprised by my liking them
than anything else.
Yet if asked, I
wouldn’t place any of these songs or artists alongside my favourites. They
probably wouldn’t even make a top 20 list. I seriously can’t mix them with my
established musical preferences: they feel completely separate from anything
else I like. I somehow enjoy them independently and in completely different
ways than I do my established favourite songs. Most people wouldn’t have given
a second or even a first thought to
this, but anyone who frequents this site probably realizes I’m not most people.
It has haunted me.
And then a
couple nights ago, it came to me: the unifying theme, the single, unbreakable
thread weaving all of these artists and songs together. “Carry On Wayward Son,”
“Black Velvet,” “The Final Countdown”… if you put me in charge of assembling a
movie soundtrack, every single one of these tunes would end up playing in the
background at every scene set in a bar. Every one.
Also, every one of these bands looks the same.
They’re all
perfect for the job: they feature catchy hooks, are pushed forward by driving,
unbroken rhythms, are instantly recognizable and yet won’t distract from the
immediate action or dialogue, and have been around long enough that there’s
near universal recognition and, by extension, welcoming familiarity. You might
think, “Hey, that’s Journey on the loudspeakers,” before returning your
attention to whatever humorous/heartbreaking/game-changing conversation the
characters might be engaged in. They’re perfect. My eclectic taste isn’t just
some quirk; it’s a vocation.
So, in
conclusion, it all boils down to this: someone needs to put me in a music
supervisory position and fast.
1 comment:
Hysterical. Well written.
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