Deja Tune

The state of music today is something that is lamented by so many people, everywhere you go. It must be a common thought that you're not a true musician or music fan unless you hate basically everything you hear on the radio, at the bar, on the street, or in your head before your medication starts working.

Whoever came before was better. Whatever's on now is utter crap, and getting utterier and crappier with each passing single.

Everything is imitating everything that came before it, and doing a piss-poor job at that, too.

And then there's me, who will basically like anything with harmony, melody, and a beat I can tap my foot to while working. And you know what? I'm not fucking ashamed of it.

Yesterday X. talked about how Eat, Pray, Love is a fast-food-condensed version of true mental enlightenment. If that is the case, then the music I choose to listen to must be about equal with the street meat and churros you find being sold out on the streets of Jackson Heights.

I must admit that I am all about these empty musical calories. Give me Britney. Give me Beyonce. Give me Cascada. Or whatever nameless slut is currently auto-tuning her voice with sampled parts of Kylie's Locomotion in the background. I will eat it up, the greasy crumbs falling from my earlobes, and ask you when the beat buffet will be refilled.

And it is truly for the flavor, not the substance. Like eating Tacos at Midnight Doritos. There is no nutritional value - but you're not throwing back those tangy orange triangles for your joint health. You're doing it because they taste so damn good.

I do not go to Beyonce, Britney, Pink, Katy, or otherwise for true life meaning or relevant topic matter. I go to them to get some beat in my head that can power me through the day. Most of the time, I never bother to learn the lyrics to the songs I overdose on. They don't matter. They could be singing words in another language. Or in no language whatsoever.



And then, maybe as a defense mechanism for my inexcusable poor taste in music, I usually roll my eyes at the music snobs. Chill back! I say. It's not really that bad. Lighten up and shake your booty! Can't you just smile? Why does all the music YOU like sound like a heroin fiend going through withdrawal in a factory that bangs pots on blackboards?

And then they say things like: Everything is the same fucking song these days. You don't have taste. You're falling victim to SCIENCE.

Bullshit, I say.



Oh. Shit. When I first found this, I'll admit I choked on whatever crummy pop I was currently devouring. Here in front of me was proof positive that two chart-busting singles released in the SAME TWELVE MONTHS could be stitched together to become one continuous song. A completely nonsensical song, sure. But still: one continuous song.

Further shame: I then downloaded this song to my iPod and began listening to it on repeat.

Because it's a damn good song, even if it is the musical equivalent of The Human Centipede.

What do you want me to say? If the beat is right, the harmony is right, and the sampling is right, I am just a lab hamster slamming his paw on the feed pellet button. Over and over and over and over. Munch munch munch with my big-ass teeth sticking out of my lips, my cheeks puffing out as I jam more and more in.

Plus, it's just two recent songs by two pop goddesses, Music Assholes. Big fucking deal. Right? Right?

No, not right.

Perhaps you've seen this video already. If you haven't, you might find it interesting, hilarious, or incriminating:



Thanks to Joe over at Laughter, Singing, Sex for that one.

And guess what? I've been listening to this pop version of Dr. Frankenstein's monster on repeat since I first found it. I'm hooked. And unfortunately I can't download the recording, so I have to keep YouTube open so I can keep hitting "replay" every 5.5 minutes.

If that's not lab hamster behavior, you tell me what is.

Should I be ashamed? Should I expand my taste and search out truly innovative music that maybe adds a 5th, 6th, and even 7th chord?

No. Because I discovered something else last night: this 4-chord progression I love so much actually originated in Pachelbel's Canon in D.



Which means I have a deep-seeded appreciation for classical music. Which means I have taste. Taste I was born with.

So fuck the lot of you. I'm gonna go download the new Katy Perry single and watch The Human Centipede.

- J.