Oh, by the way, I get paid when you click on the ads on this page. And I don’t have a real job right now, so if it’s no trouble…
January 18th, 2008 by Dusty
Just like many of you, I like some things and dislike others. This comes from a general understanding of the difference between good and bad when it comes to most stuff.
For instance, you could argue that a cilantro and onion sandwich (two food ingredients that I think should be outlawed when used uncooked) would taste delicious, and I really can’t argue much with that, as I know that lots of people like to eat food that tastes like soap and ammonia. I’m basically outnumbered on that and I accept it.
On the other hand, when I go to a museum and I see crappy artwork that everyone is gushing about, I feel just fine calling it crap with some confidence. This has nothing to do with my own background in art, either. It either took skill or it didn’t.
I don’t like Chipotle (McDonald’s version of Mexican food) at all. However, I do make a paste out of smoked Jalapenos, molasses, and vinegar that you could spread on anything you want to see me eat. I would eat Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ diaper if you put enough chipotle paste on it*. My problem with Chipotle (the restaurant) is at once painfully simple and a mystery to those around me who like that place.
It is as follows – Their food doesn’t taste good.
I gave it the rule of three; I ate there three times to be sure that I wasn’t mistaken, and sure enough, it was bad twice and below average once. Add to that the fact that you can go to a dozen tastier cheaper messican joints within a mile radius, and I am left with zero reasons to eat at Chipotle.
Music is a big one with me, too. I don’t think it takes any musical training to know when one kind of music is better than another. For instance, I was horrified when I turned on the radio for the first time in about a year and realized that while I was asleep, robots had taken over the world and replaced our music with something slightly more horrible than the crap we listened to in the 80s.
Let me qualify that. In the 80s, the music was crap. Mister Mister, A-Ha, and all the rest jammed synthesizers and those guitar/keyboard things and sang crappy lyrics and we lapped it up like so much pablum. I don’t know exactly what pablum is, but it sounds like something you’d lap up. You can’t even say pablum without making a lapping noise. Try it.
Seriously, I’m not typing another word until you try it.
No, do it out loud. I’m not kidding. Don’t ruin it for everyone else.
Okay.
The crappy music of the 80s was mercifully euthanized by the grunge stuff that came out in the 90s, and we briefly enjoyed some actual musical talent, songwriting, and folks who could play instruments. The fact that grunge sort of gave birth to that pathetic emo/goth garbage is forgivable in light of the fact that it basically nuked the hair bands overnight.
Why, then, is the bulk of today’s music worse than that of the 80s? Two reasons – first, I am getting old and I am required to start bitching about “that damned noise” at some point, and second, NO ONE IS PLAYING INSTRUMENTS ANYMORE. In the visual world it is the same garbage that came out of the general population having access to digital photo editing software and calling themselves designers. In the music world you take an unremarketable (marketable, but otherwise unremarkable) girl or guy and have him or her record lyrics. Any lyrics will do. Then you email those lyrics to a producer who can electronically make it sound like someone is singing. Then the producer turns on his Mac and adds a bunch of electronic drum beats and other noises and whammo – you have synthetic pablum. Or robot music.
You might ask, “Oh really, mister bloggeybutt? Then what do you listen to that is so great?” Really it’s not that I think the music I listen to is the best in the universe; just let me share a situation with you that has happened more than once.
I put some thought into the music I choose for an occasion. Most of my friends and family are bright, educated, and tasteful when it comes to food, music, art, and so on. If we’re hanging out having dinner and wine, I’m all about some Sonny Stitt, Oscar Peterson, or just about any other brand of old smoky jazz. That stuff just kicks ass. If we’re grilling steaks and drinking beer, you can’t beat some old Chicago (not the sappy love song crap, the stuff from when they were a 28 piece brass band), a little Porcupine Tree, Umphrey’s Mcghee, Leo Kottke, or whatever else fits the situation.
Now let me tell you what truly boggles my mind. When somebody (usually a chick (sorry ladies, I just don’t know a single dude who would turn off Tool in favor of Nicklejump 3 Blind Six or whatever)) makes a music decision and we suddenly hear Fergie spelling her name for the trillionth time. Are you serious that you’d rather listen to that recycled shit than actual music? I really don’t want to be thought of as a music snob, but I think my youngest friend is 30 years old and when Kanye West is squeezing his sonic feces through the speaker grill like some kind of nightmare Play-Doh Fun Factory and I am in a room full of grown-ups, I want to run away and rearrange my friend roster.
“We just want some party music”, they say. SERIOUSLYOHMYGOD. Does Fiddy Cent mumbling “bottlefullabub, come gimme a hug…” make anyone with an I.Q. greater than 60 feel better than the opening guitar riff from Chalkdust Torture? If so, how is that possible in a universe where the tender baby jesus loves us and wants us to be happy? “That’s why they make chocolate and vanilla, Dusty. Some people like other things.”
I understand. However, this is like saying “Some people just prefer to eat boiled hog dick flavored ice cream” and not expecting me to ask for an explanation. Not only does robot music suck, but this week’s moronic hit is played on the radio every fifteen goddamn minutes. How does that make it better and not worse?
Think of music like food. Two types of humans like really simple foods like chicken fingers, spaghetti-o’s, and Pizza Pockets. Retarded people and children. Yes, and stoners (they count as retarded people). They like it because everything else is unfamiliar and they know they can get their simple menu anywhere they go and it won’t make them have to think or otherwise expand their horizons. Shit. I think I’m back on the comfort zone thing again.
Everybody is dumb. Let’s just leave it at that until I think of something else to bitch about. I’m changing the subject.
I lived in Mannheim, Germany for about a year after I graduated college. I was too immature to fully appreciate it, but I still remember it as one of the most growuppy periods of my life. I also met some good friends. Thomas and Klaus and I hung out and drank beer and had a great time while I was there. We called Klaus “The Shredder”, and we’re still trying to remember exactly why. It was either a late night hookup with some chick, or the raging case of herpes that followed. When I moved back to the states, they came out to Atlanta to see the Olympics in 1996 and I haven’t seen either of them since then, save the occasional email.
This past week, Klaus was in town and we went to dinner and talked about old times. We hadn’t seen each other in twelve years, but it was pretty much the same. He had a couple of days left in the States so I asked him if he wanted to go flying the next day. Usually when you ask people that, they either say “No fricking way I’m getting into one of those death trap tiny airplanes”, or they are not idiots. Klaus was all about it in his broken English way, which is much better than my broken German. “Oh yes, this would be very great. I am very looking forward and will have camera on charge so it is ready.”
Yesterday we rented a plane and flew around for about an hour. Klaus is 6’5”, so he had to squeeze in a bit. He had never been in anything smaller than a 50 seat regional jet (I told him I’d take him for a ride in one of those later this year), and it was windy so I handed him the barf bag I keep in my flight bag. We took off, and he was taking video as we climbed out, saying “This is…wow. So great.”
We flew around a little and circled some stuff he recognized from the last time he was here, and then I let him fly. “Move the stick to the left and we’ll go left, right to go right, pull back to go up, and push forward to go down. Your plane, Shredder.”
For the next ten minutes we went left, right, up, and down and Klaus laughed his ass off while I tried to take pictures of him flying. He could turn and hold altitude, and was really pretty good at the basics without my having to say much. He just laughed and flew the crap out of it, soon being renamed “The Shred Baron” because I am creative like that. I asked if he was having a good time and he said, “This is most fun I have in my whole life!”
Couldn’t have said it better myself, Klaus.
*daps to Georgina for the recipe – sorry I misspelled your name
You just made my Friday night! I agree with you on the music thing, but I’m old and crotchety, too. We don’t have the same tastes, but I don’t get dragged into pop music. Well, sometimes, because some hook reels me in hard. And now I can go to bed happily after reading about Klaus flying. Really excellent
Your friend Klaus sounds like one to keep on the friends list.
Also, clicked all the links on the side merrily and I shall do so again when I get home.
Dude! Where the hell have you been? Call me or email me, I have a special treat for you and need your address to send it along. FYI, I clicked on all the ads. I know you love me.
I think you need to listen to “The Tea Party” and now just “Jeff Martin”. Look them up, Jeff is awesome with some really sweet kick ass instruments and his songs actually have meaning. Odd hey?
Love reading your posts, they always make me laugh. I want a friend who will take me flying. One of my dreams to fly a fight jet. That would be sweet!!!
I do have to agree that when someone starts playing Fergie it actually makes me cringe, unlike most chicks. Party music, my ass. Party music to me is playing a selection of AC/DC loud enough to shake my windows. And I am very jealous of you getting to live in Germany. I’m really starting to think that I should pay my relatives in Hanover a visit. Also, the flying bit sounded completely awesome. I am so jealous of your friend.
todays music is all crap… when the Beatles and Led Zeppelin quit making music, they should have outlawed new attempts…
love the frequent posts lately, Dusty. you should be unemployed more often(I did click the links for ya).
Whatever. I love cheese-80s-music. Ahh, I celebrate the fact we can disagree and not care.
I lived in Mannheim for 4 years (I even popped out a kid there). It’s a great place, isn’t it? I hated coming back to the US.
I know I’m lucky to live in Costa Rica, but the music is about 15 years behind. Think of the hell in which I am currently occupying. And the knowledge that it only gets worse…
Dusty,
Thought of you and the album covers when I saw this:
http://listoftheday.blogspot.com/2007/09/great-olan-mills-photos.html
It’s true, your biting humor would have laid waste to the commentary here, but it’s still pretty funny. Enjoy!
I clicked on one of the ads at random and got taken to an article entitled “Six Things You Don’t Know About Your Guy.”
http://www.lifescript.com/channels/well_being/Meditations_Motivations/5_things_you_dont_know_about_your_guy.asp?page=7&trans=1
If this is any indication of what women have been reading about for years in magazines like Cosmo, the men of the world really have two legs up on the womenfolk (the other one being the ability to pee upright. Maybe it should be two and a half legs up.)
If you’re a women and you read this thinking “Is this true? Does my guy really not like all of my friends?”, then you need to read the whole article to find out that he also checks out other women. I know, it’s shocking.
Dusty, I hope you get your three cents for me clicking on that.
The second person I’ve met from Costa Rica this week…
Seriously. I wish any of my family/friends were as completly awesome as you. When someone takes me “flying” it usually involves a jacked up 86 Ford Ranger with the top cut off and a 6 pack of Keystone Light. Stupid Gramma and her damned truck.
Love the posts. Somehow I’m getting your fan mail on my site. If I get one more email that starts off with “Hans- did you read Dusty’s new blog.” I’m going to get a complex.
Keep it up, Texas gets a kick out of it.
-Hans
www.hansmiyagi.com (relentless self promotion)
Crusty
Your sis and I love that totally 80’s sound and I can’t believe you dissed our generation’s radical music talent like that. You are a cruel and insensitive bro-in-law and in retaliation I may have to expose your closet fetish for Creed music (oops, looks like I just did).
We hope to be heading to the ATL area soon so keep a fishing pole ready for the chitlin’s as they keep asking if you and Stosh will take them fishing.
Hope you’ve recovered from your week in the higher altitude and sub-zero over Christmas.
BTW, in the spirit of openness and full disclosure, I didn’t click on any of the links as none of them were adult in nature…
Dusty, Dusty…
First time, long time…or do I have that backwards? Been reading you for a year or so now, meticulously going back through your archives. I was introduced to you (as I’m sure a multitude were) at the “album covers” stage. I think that went around the world thrice; I still guffaw when reading it for the umpteenth time.
I just wanted to say that I think you’re brilliant in a worldly, old-soul way, and your writing is some of the most hilarious, well formed scribing I’ve seen on the net. I write for a living too, but not the funny stuff. :
Geez! I got cut off!!
Dusty, Dusty… (con’t)
I wish I could put into Bloggish even half of my funnybone in the manner you do. Thanks for the light-hearted (yet somehow socially serious…) entertainment. Best wishes on finding that mile-high job, but pretty-please never stop blogging!! Now go buy a new hat!
Much Respect,
~V.
Alright Dusty as soon as I leave this comment I’m click on the ads… But the favor you have to do me is… Listen to Hank Williams Jr.’s Family Tradition… The Live Version if you can get it… I’m 19… The only rap I like is what I have pounded in me from hanging around my brother and 20-23 year old boys 4 nights a week… i can distinguish tupac and kanye and lil wayne from other people that’s about it… tupac has a distinctive face and that head thing… kanye would actually have a pretty voice… lil wayne is the most hideous man i have ever seen… he reminds me of the blue beast thing from hellboy… his tendrils that lean to his back lil wayne’s hair is like that… anyways… point is… i do not like rap or pop or any of the sort… i like country… old and some new… so you should listen… and i also think you should listen to shooter jennings manifesto no. 1… or anything from that album… that is all… the end
ANY music will make you want to kill yourself if it’s played 15 times per hour on the whoradio. It’s hard enough to stay motivated on a treadmill.
“Lips of an Angel” is why I finally went out and bought a fucking iPod. So I wouldn’t have to listen to how some fucking cheese dick who broke up with his girlfriend is whispering on the phone about how his current girlfriend won’t suck his dick and call him “Daddy”.
Phil
Jax, FL
I did it and I admit it. I said “pablum” because you told me to…and it felt good.
We love our Dusty-kins!
What? Like 3 blogs in a week?
Keep this shit up!
And whoever wrote italics…
Thanks.
I definitely want the recipe for that smoked Jalapeño paste.
“squeezing his sonic feces through the speaker grill like some kind of nightmare Play-Doh Fun Factory”. Yep, that’s the kind of Dustyism that will keep us clicking on those ads…And yes, three back to back entries; looks like someone has been taking his Vitameatavegemin P.S. If anyone requests the recipe for “boiled hog dick flavored ice cream”, please include arsenic or some other post lobotomic miracle cure in the ingredients.
Dust man,
I am cosidered old by my kids,but nothing beats some Foo Fighters when you are in that “damn I need a mood change from some music therapy before I strangle someone” mood.Makes a Monday morning do-able.
Just wanted to say I love the hell out of your shit.
And the ‘Cold Finish Steel Bar” ad link is broken.
Rock on, Dusty.