So posting every dang day in November is hard. It forces me to concentrate on my commute. I hate to concentrate on my commute. Especially my morning commute. That is supposed to be 35-minutes of coffee-drinking and rocking out to get ready for a big day of herding cats. Or teaching middle school. Same difference.
Anyway. Driving and thinking. Driving and listening to music and thinking.
Today I started thinking about what I listen to and I realized something: I’m a music snob who maybe deserves to have her music snob card revoked.
First, let me share my presets with you. I have Sirus XM because I am in my car a lot and my husband loves me. So this is what I have: Pop2K (Pop music from the 2000’s), Faction (Punk, older rap, and some harder rock), Pearl Jam Radio (self-explanatory), Classic Rewind (classic rock from the 80’s), Backspin (rap/hip hop from the 80’s and 90’s), and Lithium (90’s grunge and alternative).
I also listen to more Kidz Bop than I care to admit. But here I am admitting stuff, so you know. Perhaps that is it’s own confession.
You should know I also openly mock people who enjoy country music (because OMG it’s so whiny) and hair bands (not all of them, but if you try to convince me that Slayer or Winger are quality musicians, I will dismiss you from ever talking to me about music again).
With all that noted, here is where I fail at music snobbery…
I hate Rush. I am well aware that people who love rock music think this band is HUGE. Getty Lee’s voice makes me want to scratch my own ears off. I simply cannot change the channel fast enough. My soul erodes a little every time a note of their work reaches my ears.
I hate Coldplay. I don’t care how attractive (or not) Chris Martin is, he sounds like a whiny cat.
And while we are on the subject of whiny music, Radiohead actually makes me think death would be a better option than having Radiohead be the last music on earth. I blame “OK Computer”. One of my roommates in college played “Karma Police” so much I started to think that was what hell actually sounded like. As in hell wasn’t a place, but a sound that you lived in and Thom York’s voice whining was that sound.
I have bought albums strictly for the radio song, and then listened to just that song (or songs). I know. This is like the cardinal sin for music snobs. In fact, to show what a damn hypocrite I am, I have gone to concerts and mocked the people who only knew the radio songs. Granted, I have never gone to see a band based only on radio songs, but I have bought CDs for that reason. Oh? You want an example? How about every Madonna album ever. Except for her recent ones because yuck (<–probably another reason I’m getting kicked out of Music Snob Club).
I don’t get why people like Adele. There. I said it. Her song, “Hello”? More like hell no. I couldn’t even listen to the whole thing. As Cortney said, I kept wanting to finish it with “…is it me you’re looking for?”
I really, really love “Tubthumping” by Chumbawamba. As in I crank it up and holler-sing along. Every time. Ever since the song was released in the 90’s. Even when everyone I knew was saying, “that is the most annoying effing song I have ever heard.” I was secretly adding it to my I Will Love You Forever list of songs.
Do you know what the funniest (or maybe most terrifying) thing about writing all these down? Someone, maybe even you, will get incredibly offended that I hate something you love. Music is weird that way. As Madonna says (and I’m clearly paraphrasing here), it can bring the people together. But it can also rip people apart.
Case in point: I never got so many people riled up as I did the year I live-Facebooked the MTV video awards and announced that I think Brittany Spears is not an icon because it mostly sounds like she is singing underwater in a baby voice.
People were UP. IN. ARMS.
The great thing is, I don’t care. I’m not trying to change your opinions; I’m just admitting mine–my less popular ones.
So now I want to hear your less-than-popular music confessions. Unless they are that you hate Pearl Jam.
Then we can no longer be friends.
(no, I’m not.)