Sunday, July 09, 2006


I have this habit that people seem to find a bit strange. Well, actually it's two things, now that I think about it.

One: it takes me ages to get into an album. I mean, seriously, we're talking months here. I've got a couple of albums, some I bought, and some copies that I got given last year by friends, and I still haven't gotten into them properly yet. In fact, some of them I haven't listened to the whole way through. (I would apologise for being a shite friend here, but it's the way I am - sorry.) I’ve only just got round to saving Beth Gibbons and Rustin’ Man to the hard rive and I bought that about six months ago. A few others will go on tonight. Perhaps it's because I listen to a lot of music on the computer, so I tend to skip through tracks, not listening to some, listening to others a few times, so I never tend to listen to an album right the way through. I guess I'm sticking two fingers up to the artists and their record companies who slave away over a hot track list to decide the order they appear on the album, but never mind. It takes me an age to discover each track individually and learn to love it. So, if any of you anonymous lot out there have ever given me an album, bear with me - I shall get back to you with my opinion by next Christmas. Ish.

Two: I can be insanely obsessed with someone’s music, and not like them, or even find them downright irritating, as a person. A good example of this would Tori Amos. I love, love, love her music (well, the older stuff anyway), but listening to her being interviewed is, for me, akin to Chinese water torture. Or being made to listen to Agadoo on repeat. But I can still feel an affinity with their lyrics even if I don’t like them. Strange, I admit. So, it is important for me to know what they are singing. Foreign languages are out. I don’t want to fall in love with a song only to find out they’re singing their shopping list.

On a separate, though related, topic, can I just say how much I detest this new breed of female singer-songwriters. Or should that be "singer-songwriters"? Corinne Bailey-Rae, Lily Allen, Sandi Thom and so on. I'm trying to think how to articulate my feelings about them without resorting to wailing 'they're crap!', but I'm not sure it can be done. They seem to fit into two distinct categories: sugary sweet chill-out pap or faux-angst piffle. I'm not sure which annoys me more. Can't they attempt to come up with at least a semi-original topic? ‘The world is a big bad place and a man has screwed me over.’ Well, join the club honey. Sing about your breakfast, or your postman, or the dust-bunnies under your bed. Anything original would do.

I don’t know if the current pop-culture climate has been deluged with a higher than normal level of material that is the musical equivalent of tapioca, or whether it’s always been like this, but, to use a technical term, it’s doing my nut in and I wish they would all go away.

At this stage I would like to clarify that I am in no way a musical snob (see my post entitled, er, ‘Untitled’ for proof) but I just can’t stand that people seem to be taken in by the music industry ‘this-is-the-next-big-thing’ tripe. I love some musical cheese, but even then I would rather it was by someone who had more personality than an amoeba. Or at least a decent tune and lyrics that don’t make me snort with derision.

Phew. I feel much better now.


At 11:53 PM, Blogger c said...

Excuse me . . . dust bunnies???

At 11:55 PM, Blogger Suz said...

Those bundles of fluff and hair and dust you get in corners, under beds and such. Not actual rabbits. :-)

At 11:55 PM, Blogger Suz said...

In fact: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dust_bunny


Post a Comment

<< Home