2011 Year in Review
Blue Whales
Christmas Carol
Duty to Object
Evenhanded Pursuit of Truth
Flood and Bush
Never There or Here
Review: Sufjan Stevens' Age of Adz
Space Flight
Success With Values
Terrible Kids Music
The Nineties
Year in Review

Behind the Music…snob

In an effort to address a recent comment from Mrs. Wheat, I have decided to post about music snobbery*. *I prefer the term music bourgeoisie, but that is only because I am better than you and know what that means, knowing also that I am misusing it in a ironic manner, but only slightly ironically as to confound and mislead.

Before I justify my actions, let’s play a game. I am an attention-seeking Italian female with some musical talent and ethnic name. Changing my name, I embrace dance/pop music and achieve vast success. I rebel against my Catholic upbringing complete with naked pictures, homosexual confessions and stoking of media coverage of continual shock presentations. I have achieved fame and know how to keep myself in the papers. Can you guess who I am?

This is "The Jump" →

This post has 3 responses.

Why I Am an Audiophile

I spent this past New Year’s Eve in Stockbridge, Georgia, visiting my friend, cousin, and college roommate, Travis.* We watched the New Year’s Eve program with Dick Clark and Ryan Secrest, which gets more depressing every year as Dick Clark continues to deteriorate. After the ball dropped, they switched to a live musical performance by something called Far East Movement. They performed a song called “Like a G6,” and, in the hook they repeat the mantra “Now I’m feeling so fly like a G6, like a G6, like a G6.” I didn’t really understand why you would want to feel like one of the six most powerful members of the European Union. I mean, I guess that would be cool, but it didn’t really seem to fit the context. I figured I was missing something, and I found out that a G-6 is some sort of private plane. It stands for Gulf…something.

“Is Spain part of the G-6?” “Not sure, dude.”
This is "The Jump" →

This post has 7 responses.

Soothing the Savage Yeast

I must begin by saying that at one point I was a rock star …well, not a big star. Okay, so it might be most accurate to say I’ve written a few ditties in my life and this experience colors my perspective of music. I feel the urge, the strong urge, to lament the bland music that is in the pop(ular) music world today, but for fear of adding to the idea that we three ingredients make a hard, old crusty bread, I’ll begin with a pinch of sweetness and levity.

Say What?

There is a real danger that I might be obliged to forfeit my rights as Musical Bourgeoisie to Mr. Wheat for the coming confession – I don’t know the lyrics to many of my favorite songs. I’m not even talking about those mile a minute Red Hot Chili Pepper songs. I’ve even been known to forget the words to songs that I have written, and yet still the music moves me. In fact, I think this underscores a great power in music, to reach out to the indescribable through the indiscernible. If Wheat thinks this sounds crazy then I can only respond with, “Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do.”

Now this lacking for lyrics might have come from my upbringing (like Wheat) in a capella church music. Being the dyslexic, mixed-up Leaven that I am, I couldn’t read the words and the lyrics at the same time so I would (and still will) spout gibberish while trying to keep up with the music, the melody, and ohhh the harmonies, by listening to folks around me. While it might have sounded like speaking in tongues it wasn’t, but it was moved by the Spirit.

What you talkin' bout Willis?

This is "The Jump" →

This post has 2 responses.