Harlock - Column for 8/18

What I’m Listening To Now

Not right now, this minute, but in general. If nothing else, I can look at this again in ten years and wonder what the hell I was thinking. And then play another Dave Matthews, Jr. song on my CranialPod player, and enjoy the music in a non-rocking, low impact sort of way. That’s my nightmare, anyway.

This brings up another issue: My definition of “pop”. Or maybe “Pop”, capitalized. I tend to think of almost everything that I listen to as pop of some form or another, giving Pop a very wide range. This is at least in part because I’m not quite sure where the boundaries of Rock lie, and partially because I’m comfortable with a fluid definition that encompasses the bulk of my musical taste. My definition of Rock falls into what is most likely actually the sub-genre Heavy Metal. So while I consider Tom Petty to be mostly Pop, he probably falls more into the Rock category. (Or Classic Rock, at this point.) And Matthew Sweet would be similar, although I really think that he’s more Pop than Rock. But closer to Rock, so on the Power Pop side. Like Enda, with one site listing their album under Modern Rock, Brooding, and Grunge. I’m not sure how Grunge fits in, but, again, it’s probably due to a definitional difficulty on my part. But when I think Grunge, I think Nirvana and early Pearl Jam: Lots of mumbling and thrashing. Enda doesn’t mumble or thrash, so I don’t see the connection.

Take Ivy, or Paco: Definitely Pop. Intelligent, lyric, female-sung Pop. They fall right into the center of Pop, whatever that is. The Sundays and early Lush are classified as Shoegazer, a sort of airy, brooding, corner of Pop. Split-era Lush is Shoegazer mixing with Power Pop, and late-era Lush is a bit of a misfire where they went way over to Power Pop and tried to be Elastica. So, Power Pop has more strident vocals, and a thick layer of electric guitars and drums. But, wait: It was My Bloody Valentine, another Shoegazer band, who pioneered the Wall of Guitars sound. Which Lush also made use of. And which doesn’t fit that concept of brooding, airy Pop. So: Brooding, airy Pop with Wall of Guitars.

Or take Curve. I’d classify Curve as Noise Pop, or probably actually Noise/Power Pop, because I’d say that a band like Medicine (ex-band, really) is better described as Noise Pop. But then I suppose that Curve would be more Noise/Power/Electronica Pop. Ivy is Pop, while Sleeper is Pop/Power Pop, because Sleeper is a bit more strident, and can be a bit more forward with the drums and guitars. Not that Ivy is a bunch of hippie folk singers with sitars and tambourines; no, they have their own drums and electric guitars. They’re really not too far apart, in fact.

You can see why I have trouble categorizing these things.

Now, of course I could do a better job researching the classification system, such as it is, that’s used by critics and other music wanker types. But then I’d sound like a pretentious twit, and I’d much rather sound like a vaguely confused layman. So, while pretentious musical twits are free to mock me for my lack of musical classification clothes, I’m still…well, not a pretentious twit. And not very good with metaphors, either.

So, right there, I admit that I pretty much don’t know what I’m talking about. And that statement is just qualifying my ignorance a bit so that I don’t feel like a complete idiot. In any case, all of us have deep, dark pits of bad taste. A professional critic, I believe, uses obscure terminology, references, and classifications to disguise this. That’s how I can explain the popularity among critics of Weezer, for one thing. I also don’t care for the Magnetic Fields or the Pixies, which, were I a professional music critic, would earn me a festive burning at the stake.

Seriously, though, this is the good stuff. The bad stuff is mine alone to enjoy, and hide from the light of day in my CD shelves. Which is in plain view, but who’s going to sit and look through them all? I’m not sure why, but I always feel guilty about looking through other people’s CD collections. Even if the CDs are right out there in the living room, I feel like I’m snooping. I feel much less guilt about looking at their books. In either case, I’m not talking about pawing through the things, pulling them out and inspecting them; no, I just mean reading the titles on the spines. I probably feel this way because CD and book choices are such personal things. That, and I don’t want to feel embarrassed for someone once I discover that they own the Essential Kenny Loggins album. That would be awkward, because I’d have to confront that fact that my friends listened to really terrible music, and didn’t even try to hide the fact.

Of course, I have not one but two anime soundtrack collections sitting here at my desk. Now, the Cowboy Bebop collection is entirely respectable…

Columns by Harlock