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Analysis of Shit Music: 2011

  • By allgravy9
  • 30 August 2011

I haven't even reached the legal drinking age in America and already I have developed back pains and an incessant desire to constantly winge about everything and anything that changes; most noticeably in the musical world. Music has got to such a revolting state that it seems to dominate my every angry thought as I reach for my cod liver oil tablets with a wince. This ladies and gentlemen, is the analysis of shit music in 2011…

A well publicised myth within music is the 'It's good when I'm drunk' lie. This essentially means that today's shit tricks us when we're drunk into thinking it's actually good, and then, when we're nursing a hangover, sneaks itself into our thinking in the form of poisonous sentiment from the night before. Let's be honest. As human beings, when intoxicated we're susceptible to think and say that we love  anyone or anything, from a future ex-lover, to a children's cartoon, or indeed an utterly shit song. If a song needs you to be beyond the point of cognition for it to be good, then guys, it never was and never will be any good. 

You only have to view the bizarre dancefloor behaviours of males in two different musical environments to know which music they ACTUALLY love, with the key point being: If it isn't natural dancing, it isn't sincere appreciation. The same men that attempt to ooze swagger, that clumsily make their way through the process of bumping and grinding to the latest R and B hit, are actually totally clueless at how best to look like a jock from that Sean Paul video set in a very hip underground house party. Place them into a room playing hits from times gone by and hey-presto! You'll see some rather erratic and alarming arm flailing and hip shaking. I count myself very firmly in this unashamed, camp group of dancers that find our exploits with the opposite sex severly hindered by our inability to remain calm when 'Genie in a Bottle' comes on. I have to wonder if as our society progresses further and further forward, musically we are starting to digress, now crawling around on all fours, bickering over bananas.  

Gone are the days of Chumbawamba and Bomfunk MC's, and with their demise, so too does my interest in anything remotely commercial and new played in clubs, radio stations and shops. Basically, anywhere playing mainstream music. Indeed, once a favoured part of my musical consumption - the radio - is now one of my biggest fundamental hates. As a man that works with children after- school, I am regularly subjected to drive time radio and already in my youthful existence, I can sense a disaffection with the world, along with a genuine fear of my inevitable future of premature hair loss brewing. Come 4.30,  after an hour and a half of restraining my embarrassing urges to scream into the face of a child, I turn to the radio to ease my pain. All I ask for is a bit of genuine music. I don't care if it's in the form of a band that wait for it, plays their own instruments, or indeed a harmless piece of shit from the 90s.  Instead, with each desperate change between radio stations, I am greeted with auto tune and weird dupstep/pop infused rubbish. Seriously. What the hell is that Black Eyed Peas song 'Dirty Bit'? It is all very reminiscent of gothic  literature which attempted to warn people of the dangers of attempts to usurp God.  Much like the body parts for which Victor assembles in Frankenstein, artists piece together old favourites and force them back to life with catastrophic results. 

Note to Fergie and Will-i-am: Time of my life was already awful in Dirty Dancing.

With this traffic jam, bratty children and decline in commercial music induced cynicism, I am beginning to see scary similarities between myself - an insistent listener of Bloc Party and other such bands - and my Dad, who refuses to listen to anything released past the 80s. Could it be that in my grumpy state of irrelevant musical tastes, I've simply lost touch with the developing trends of youth culture? Perhaps I should simply dedicate some time to get to grips with the thought provoking outcries of Ollie Murs to wake me up? What of the dulcet tones of Tulisa? Or maybe even indulge in a little bit of The Wanted? Yes, I'm being sarcastic, but the point is that we aren't even in the eye of the storm. The scary predicament that we find ourselves in has seen my generation produce the Spice Girls and All Saints. Further back pedalling has seen the next generation produce Rebecca Black and Cher Lloyd. Lord knows what happens when 'Friday' and 'Swagger Jagger' are white robed, retro saviours in amongst what will one day become current music.  It's an absolutely terrifying thought. 

Anybody else think apocalypse in 2012 might not be such a bad thing?