Shitty Music…

This is totally a first world problem but suffer my idiocy (and lick my plate you dog dick).

So I am driving to work this morning with the radio in the on position. I am tuned into a local alternative station, one that claims to play a wide variety of “new rock”. Additionally, it seems they like to run 95 mins commercial free music. Initially this may seem like a pretty good deal if, like me, you hate commercial interruptions. However, the catch is this…they, the radio station programmers, fail to tell you it will be 95 minutes of uninterrupted shit. How do I know it is shit? Because while I was listening to it I said, “What the hell is this shit?”.

It takes me about 30 minutes to drive to work with mileage and traffic. So for 30 minutes (of the advertised 95) I was consistently disappointed, hoping a decent song would follow the epic pile of shit preceding it. Yes, yes I could have changed the channel, but then that would mean I gave more than zero fucks for your opinion.

For 30 minutes I was bombarded with the opposite of K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the 70’s, including, but not limited to, Collective Soul, Artic Monkeys, Mumford & Sons, Cold Play, Filter, Cage the Elephant, Queens of the Stone Age (omg I cannot adequately express the level of suck they possess),and a couple others I seriously could not identify.

The state of the music scene/industry/universe today hass gone to hell in the proverbial hand basket. The chimps running record companies are manufacturing shit, widely and recklessly distributing shit, and hoping it hits whichever entity is stupid enough to be yawning at that moment in time. Now I cannot completely blame the record companies for the propagation of this pollution. Many of the new bands creating this audible shit storm spent their formative years in the mid to late 90s. Any taste of decent music was washed away by dubious contributions to society like Oasis, No Doubt, Matchbox Twenty, Hootie and the Blowfish, Dave Matthews Band, Goo Goo Dolls, Third Eye Blind, Candlebox, Silverchair, Reel Big Fish, Slipknot…fuck I cant go on, I am in a rage…wait one more…THE FOO FIGHTERS…zomgwtf these guys are simply this generations Toto…no Van Halen…no .

Let us not forget the end of the value chain…the consumer…Je’sus Christos on a cracker, crutch or pogo stick, why would someone pay to listen to the aforementioned fecal matter. I mean at some point market dynamics (supply and demand, puts and takes, whatever your poison) will take over, just stop feeding the monster(s). I cannot accurately count the times I have heard the moronic justification for the quality of music be causally linked to the number of copies sold. For the last time, just because there is a lot of it does not necessarily make it good…just like shit.

Now back to my original point about shit and music and such. While driving and suffering the psychosomatic effects of the aforementioned audible harassment, I began to contemplate my harsh characterization of the musical masterpieces leaving a greasy film on the inside of my ears. I began to wonder was this music really akin to feces? What attributes did they actually share? What this just another of my baseless judgments resulting in yet another wild claim?


You see bad music is very much like shit. Most of us hate shit, I mean some eat it and rub it on themselves during sex, but I mean for the most part it is human nature to avoid it. We typically tolerate it in small and confined doses. If you see a dog turd on the sidewalk it may gross you out or annoy you, but overall you move on with your life. However, if you are forced to wade through an oil slick of shit, having it thrown at you, while wearing a shit suit you will likely get pissed off.

Now take what I have just shared with you and translate shit to bad music and bad music to shit and so on and so forth. You will see that my theory holds water be it logically, rhetorically, or linguistically. If anyone would like to argue from the subjectivist position, beauty in the eye of the beholder and so forth, please do. I have provided examples above to fuel the debate.

May the Lord bless you and keep you; may he make His face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you and give you poptarts…


A REM classic

R.E.M. – Strange Currencies


Last Caress

Sweet Lovely Death

I am waiting for your breath

Oh sweet death one last caress…


It is about time…

Jim Morrison may win indecent exposure pardon 40 years on –

WOOOOT Shit balls!

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Alice in Chains…

So Tara, as she has a tendency to do, purchased tickets for Jacob and I to see Alice in Chains.  We attended this full featured event on Saturday, the 2nd, the year of our lord 2010.

Two groups, chocked full O’ bearded lads opened the show.  The first band was Mastodon.  Once I got over the lame ass name, I really enjoyed their music.  They lacked a bit of energy, but they were a solid band.

The next band was the Deftone, aka linken311againstthemachine.  This band I was less impressed with, although the last half of their set was pretty good.  I was informed it was their older stuff.

The weather was nice although the air was cold, the beer was warn, and there was an odd smell, like someone was burning yard clippings???

Holding with tradition I drunk dialed Mr. VonNieda to shout obscenities at him.  We spoke briefly then bid each other a good night.

Alice in Chains took the stage about 10:15pm.  I was really curious as to how their new lead singer would hold up against Layne.  I was pleasantly impressed with his vocals.  Between his singing and Cantrell’s back ups the songs were clean and spot on.  The new singer, William DuVall be thy name, sported a leather jacket and pants.  He struck me as a really skinny Lenny Kravitz or a really tall Prince.  He moved around the stage like he was in a Broadway production (I swear I caught him skipping several times).

Musically, they were very tight.  However, the music was missing a gritty and dark core it used to have.  There was no doubt that Cantrell had control of the show.  His was a commanding presence in a kind and welcoming way.  He was smoking while playing and appeared very relaxed and in his element, reminded me of Mr. Lacey.

Here is, what I am sure, is a more reputable review of the show:



If it is sick and wrong…I am in.

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The Beatles

I don’t think the Beatles were that great…