I like their old stuff better than their new stuff
There is a day in all lives when you realise that you cannot possibly like any more new music.
I'm not convinced this is a conscious decision. But it happens. One of my friends observed to me recently that owning the next-to-most recent White Stripes album and playing it occasionally was the only thing that kept at bay her sneaking suspicion that she is no longer cool*.
One day, I might wake up and think:
"You know who I really like? That lovely young (insert boy band here)"
And of course the counter-point to this is a frightening but seemingly unavoidable deletion of any sense of cool or decorum you might have when you find yourself tapping your foot and humming along to (for crying out loud) Janet Jackson's 'Rhythm Nation'**.
I KNOW that this is nostalgia - because five years ago I would have rather dropped dead than admit in a public place that I even recognised 'Rhythm Nation' let alone knew enough of it to sing along. But to mis-quote Samuel Johnson, "nostalgia is the last refuge of the moron" - and as we get older it appears we grow increasingly moronic***.
The chances of achieving a hideous taste in music (or at least a perceived hideous taste in music) are, I suspect, increased by procreation. Grizzlewick will only tolerate my musical taste until he reaches puberty, at the very latest. At that point I expect him to embark on the requisite metal phase visited upon most young boys.
I intend to go with the flow on this one.
Mr Fix has already been heard to mutter "Do you really even LIKE Judas Priest?" in the direction of young boys he sees wearing metal t-shirts. Between that and the "Yeah, Budd? I saw them in 1992"-style anecdotes, there are hours of parental torture to be had during that phase of young Grizzlewick's life.
But I'm sure it will only take a withering stare and a slice of "What would you know, parents? You like Wolfmother!"
And then we'll be obliged to point out that he used to like Wolfmother.
And then he'll say, "At least I was only three".
Just like I did, when my parents told me how much I used to like Kiss.
* A point on which I obviously disagree. But what would I know? I'm a moron.
** For the record I don't own a copy of 'Rhythm Nation'. And also, I blame the Rock Eisteddfod.
*** Present company excepted, naturellement.
I'm not convinced this is a conscious decision. But it happens. One of my friends observed to me recently that owning the next-to-most recent White Stripes album and playing it occasionally was the only thing that kept at bay her sneaking suspicion that she is no longer cool*.
One day, I might wake up and think:
"You know who I really like? That lovely young (insert boy band here)"
And of course the counter-point to this is a frightening but seemingly unavoidable deletion of any sense of cool or decorum you might have when you find yourself tapping your foot and humming along to (for crying out loud) Janet Jackson's 'Rhythm Nation'**.
I KNOW that this is nostalgia - because five years ago I would have rather dropped dead than admit in a public place that I even recognised 'Rhythm Nation' let alone knew enough of it to sing along. But to mis-quote Samuel Johnson, "nostalgia is the last refuge of the moron" - and as we get older it appears we grow increasingly moronic***.
The chances of achieving a hideous taste in music (or at least a perceived hideous taste in music) are, I suspect, increased by procreation. Grizzlewick will only tolerate my musical taste until he reaches puberty, at the very latest. At that point I expect him to embark on the requisite metal phase visited upon most young boys.
I intend to go with the flow on this one.
Mr Fix has already been heard to mutter "Do you really even LIKE Judas Priest?" in the direction of young boys he sees wearing metal t-shirts. Between that and the "Yeah, Budd? I saw them in 1992"-style anecdotes, there are hours of parental torture to be had during that phase of young Grizzlewick's life.
But I'm sure it will only take a withering stare and a slice of "What would you know, parents? You like Wolfmother!"
And then we'll be obliged to point out that he used to like Wolfmother.
And then he'll say, "At least I was only three".
Just like I did, when my parents told me how much I used to like Kiss.
* A point on which I obviously disagree. But what would I know? I'm a moron.
** For the record I don't own a copy of 'Rhythm Nation'. And also, I blame the Rock Eisteddfod.
*** Present company excepted, naturellement.
posted by gigglewick at
10:47 pm
3 Comments:
Well, I have a friend (yes! TRUE!) who says that each song only has so many listens in it before it becomes dross. This is why those Gold stations are such shite. They keep playing songs way past their last listen. So I'm guessing you'll have to keep buying some new stuff, even if the kids think it's like the future equivalent of Robbie Williams.
Never! Nah, you're probably right. I think I would always like to know who 'the yoof' were listening to, even if I didn't listen to new music anymore. I think there is a point where you start to regress and go back and listen to the stuff you were crazy about as a teenager or student, because the music holds so many memories and I think as we get older we may stop associating music with the really important periods in our life.
I'm not sure, but I think this is why I just started listening to Beck's 'Odelay' and Radiohead's 'The Bends' after years of not having listened to them. This is a sign of age, no?
Meva,
Yes, I think you may be right re repetition = shit.
Pomgirl,
What worries me is going a whole year without being able to find anything new I can listen to without wincing. I live in fear of this (although not as much fear, obviously, as one day enjoying the music of the Corrs/cause).
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