Wednesday, December 17, 2008

I've Heard It So Many Times: "Instead, We'll Have Barack's People Contact Neal's People" - Right?

"Biodiesel innovation wasn’t exactly at the top of the crowd’s agenda."

-- Nate Chinen, with another review of a Neal Young concert (“We’re auditioning for our old record company, so when you hear those new songs, you make a lot of noise whether you like ’em or not, O.K.?”) for The New York Times.

I have dreams at night of challenging, both, new and over-the-hill artists to a musical duel - one where I show them how conventional they, their ideas, and their art, are - while revealing to the audience how much damage has been done because they choose to blindly follow those lamers without ever demanding (or even knowing to demand) anything better. Right now, as far as I can tell, the majority of contemporary musical entertainment choices seem to be:

A) Syrupy songs about how shitty it feels to be betrayed. Of course, in this NewAge, I understand the attraction of this genre - except for the syrupy part. Personally, I'd rather shoot myself than be the kind of loser who willingly listens to such nonsense.

B) Songs that admonish a "girl" to shake her booty as fast as humanly possible. These songs are made by male and female artists, giving detailed directions to stupid girls on how to end up as the subject of Genre A. They're nothing without the visuals.

C) Is it just me or have Country music's lyricists lost the whole concept behind meter and rhyme? They're supposed to be free/but with a real sense of seriousness/so real emotion is left - and do it in time.

But they don't anymore. Why?

D) Hippie cult garbage - like what Neal Young/Madonna/Kanye/U2, etc. are selling - in which everything depends on agreeing with the gooey thought-stopping message, rather than the art having any worth on it's own merits.

Like newspapers (being willing to go broke rather than change their editorial positions) record companies are only hurting themselves. Hint: It's not the internet, you guys, it's YOU.

And no - I ain't auditioning for anybody - you want me? You pays up-front: