Perhaps this is just my sour grapes now that I have no computer or cd player, but I’ve noticed how much I hate music.
They were right in the 50s. Music affects your emotional mood, which in turn affects your life choices. The B-side of Elvis’s second single was about kissing after dark until you lose count. Most songs of the last sixty years are about love in some capacity. You don’t have generic songs about hard times any more.
I got sick of country-pop radio. For one thing, the lyrics were painfully blue pill. All the songs are about how whatever person you are currently (or have until recently been) banging is your entire world. The music all has a kind of disco drum beat. It sounds like it’s from Nashville, not the country.
Worse are the commercials. They don’t just say, “Buy Colgate. It’s awesome.” No, they have all these sound effects and background music and stupid jokes about the car dealership. I turned it off when a rooster crowed as loud as possible in my ear.
Worst of all is the morning show. They spent five minutes talking about how many layers of clothing they have. And every morning it’s Wiksepedia, where they give unfunny made up answers to questions and laugh at their own jokes. I also learned that apparently everyone loves Ellen DeGeneres.
So I switched to classical radio. But the constant emotional highs and lows bothered me. You can’t just have it in the background. This was odd, because I hated how “””country””” radio was all highs.
I hate music. Even something vintage like Patsy Cline or The Everly Brothers grates on me, like a goose squawking. I know I am an old man because I can’t understand how anyone could like The Doors. Could I even listen through a Charlie Parker CD anymore? I hate sitting in a diner and having the forgotten top 40 of 1957 blaring overhead, even though I know half the songs.
Music. It’s either too emotional or too bland. Too scratchy or too subdued. It’s all more escapism. By default you live vicariously through whatever the singer is pretending to have experienced, and you want to experience that too.
Music was my thing in high school. I’m classically trained and even went to a fine arts magnet school one year. I can fake jazz piano fairly well and played in college. I can learn any instrument in twenty minutes. I can sight-sing a capella choir.
One of the sound bites I remember from television growing up is from The Grim Adventures Of Billy And Mandy. Someone tells Billy he has to face the music, and he says, “But I hate music! Especially soft rock!” Does anyone on earth actually hate music? Billy and I do.