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We all know them. The ones who would scoff at the sight of a Rihanna album on your iPod. Those who giggle at the quantities of GaGa in your most-played. Those judgmental, high-minded fuckers who rally against the evils of pop music like they’d just heard Hitler started a band.
I think I should say first that I’m no angel. I am perfectly willing to admit that I judge people based on their music tastes: who doesn’t? It’s not even a particularly controversial thing to do, at least I don’t think so. Pop music (or “popular music”) is one of those rare things, something that we all take on as part of ourselves, as if our playlists comprised our very DNA. We use our favourite songs, albums and artists to soundtrack our lives and personalities. Sneaking around the contents of someone’s iPod (especially the most played tracks, artists and albums) can sometimes feel like the 21st century version of looking into somebody’s soul: what tickles their musical fancy when nobody is looking? What brings them up on those downer days? What makes them feel their best?
But there’s only so far that this line of thinking can take you. Listening to Ke$ha doesn’t make you a twat, despite her being a stand-out example of one. And buying the latest Black Keys record on vinyl doesn’t mean you’re a fundamentally better person. Although do I think it makes you a bit of a hero. But I’ll put that to one side.
The people I’m talking about are more often than not the same people who pride themselves on an unwritten membership of some alternative social club of some sort. These people are a dime a dozen. The sort that list their music taste like a list of charity donations. Each line item is a case for them being the enlightened and aware music buyers that they are so proud to be. “Yeah, but they don’t write their own songs do they?”, is a phrase I hear too often. It’s a fair point if you’re going to make song-writing your single measuring stick when it comes to evaluating an artist’s worth. But very few people would line up to tear down the musical legacies of Frank Sinatra or Elvis Presley — for example. If you’re going to have a principle: stick to it for God’s sake.
In contrast to the apparent lack of artistry demonstrated by Sinatra and Presley, Katy Perry has had a hand in writing almost all of her work. But how many people, who denounce the evils of corporate music written by others, would then celebrate Katy Perry upon learning this fact? Very very few.
I’m not saying that writing your own music isn’t important, or that it isn’t a worthy pursuit that deserves credit. Quite the opposite, writing your own music is a hard, heartbreaking work that rarely ever pays the dividends we all expect it to. Those that do it should be applauded and separated (in some way) from those that don’t.
But at the same time, not writing your own music doesn’t make you a bum-bitch for Satan. It doesn’t mean you’re the worst thing to walk this planet, and it certainly doesn’t mean the actual sounds you produce should be derided extensively because of it. A good song is a good song and a good tune is a good tune, regardless of whether it was written by Nina Nesbitt or my Nan.
I’ve seen plenty of “alternative folk” lose themselves in a high-street British club to “cheesey” tunes and the poppiest pop anyone could possibly play. Many of them have derided the sounds that make up our chart to my face, only to hand over money for the privilege of spending eight hours in a loud, dark room with the exact same sort of music being played. Being charged £4 a pint or more doesn’t seem to bother these folk, the chance to musically torture yourself, laughing and smiling the whole way through (I gather this is a statement of irony) is apparently too good a deal to pass up.
Stop being a hypocrite. There is no such thing as a guilty pleasure.
Music Fans Who Consider Themselves Above All Others
We all know them. The ones who would scoff at the sight of a Rihanna album on your iPod. Those who giggle at the quantities of GaGa in your most-played. Those judgmental, high-minded fuckers who rally against the evils of pop music like they’d just heard Hitler started a band.
I think I should say first that I’m no angel. I am perfectly willing to admit that I judge people based on their music tastes: who doesn’t? It’s not even a particularly controversial thing to do, at least I don’t think so. Pop music (or “popular music”) is one of those rare things, something that we all take on as part of ourselves, as if our playlists comprised our very DNA. We use our favourite songs, albums and artists to soundtrack our lives and personalities. Sneaking around the contents of someone’s iPod (especially the most played tracks, artists and albums) can sometimes feel like the 21st century version of looking into somebody’s soul: what tickles their musical fancy when nobody is looking? What brings them up on those downer days? What makes them feel their best?
But there’s only so far that this line of thinking can take you. Listening to Ke$ha doesn’t make you a twat, despite her being a stand-out example of one. And buying the latest Black Keys record on vinyl doesn’t mean you’re a fundamentally better person. Although do I think it makes you a bit of a hero. But I’ll put that to one side.
The people I’m talking about are more often than not the same people who pride themselves on an unwritten membership of some alternative social club of some sort. These people are a dime a dozen. The sort that list their music taste like a list of charity donations. Each line item is a case for them being the enlightened and aware music buyers that they are so proud to be. “Yeah, but they don’t write their own songs do they?”, is a phrase I hear too often. It’s a fair point if you’re going to make song-writing your single measuring stick when it comes to evaluating an artist’s worth. But very few people would line up to tear down the musical legacies of Frank Sinatra or Elvis Presley — for example. If you’re going to have a principle: stick to it for God’s sake.
In contrast to the apparent lack of artistry demonstrated by Sinatra and Presley, Katy Perry has had a hand in writing almost all of her work. But how many people, who denounce the evils of corporate music written by others, would then celebrate Katy Perry upon learning this fact? Very very few.
I’m not saying that writing your own music isn’t important, or that it isn’t a worthy pursuit that deserves credit. Quite the opposite, writing your own music is a hard, heartbreaking work that rarely ever pays the dividends we all expect it to. Those that do it should be applauded and separated (in some way) from those that don’t.
But at the same time, not writing your own music doesn’t make you a bum-bitch for Satan. It doesn’t mean you’re the worst thing to walk this planet, and it certainly doesn’t mean the actual sounds you produce should be derided extensively because of it. A good song is a good song and a good tune is a good tune, regardless of whether it was written by Nina Nesbitt or my Nan.
I’ve seen plenty of “alternative folk” lose themselves in a high-street British club to “cheesey” tunes and the poppiest pop anyone could possibly play. Many of them have derided the sounds that make up our chart to my face, only to hand over money for the privilege of spending eight hours in a loud, dark room with the exact same sort of music being played. Being charged £4 a pint or more doesn’t seem to bother these folk, the chance to musically torture yourself, laughing and smiling the whole way through (I gather this is a statement of irony) is apparently too good a deal to pass up.
Stop being a hypocrite. There is no such thing as a guilty pleasure.
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