On My Hatred of (Most) Music

       It's funny how I came to hate music. I believe that if you surround yourself with anything too much, you're going to end up hating it. It's where the expression "too much of a good thing" comes from, and why 50% of marriages end in divorce. One of the reasons skateboarding is so wonderful is because I have not yet found that point where I've thought, "This is no longer fun for me."
       I cannot say the same thing about music.
       I detest today's music with few exceptions. I think that this stems from me being the music director at my school's radio station, where my job is to filter out all the shitty music that comes out today and put in what few artists I think are OK into the WBMB databse. This is why not a lot of music gets added every week, and is also why 90% of my iPod is from 1989 or earlier.
       I'm also in a band, Wyldlife, and so many people might expect me to love contemporary music, seeing as I'm a part of it.
       Well, I don't. I think it sucks.
       A few weeks ago, Calder showed me this band: Brokencyde. Calder, who is an employee at the Middletown, NY Hot Topic, told me their tee-shirts and merchandise (appalling) were sold out in three days.

       Three goddamn days.

       I wish to say that it's bands like these that make me have no hope about any progression of my band. I mean, I love Wyldlife, but if people are spending their money (more likely, their parents money) on Brokencyde tee-shirts and CDs at Hot Topic instead of, say, anything else, then it's not my fault that Wyldlife will forever be destined for the pile of "almost were's." No. It's people. People are stupid.
       No. That isn't it at all. Brokencyde was just smart enough to appeal to the most nauseating demographic in the world. That's it: Brokencyde is the smartest band in the world, because they are the only band thus far to cater to the faggotty scene kids from South Jersey who are into the two most obnoxious gimmicks in modern music: the auto-vocalizer and the Velociraptor screamo scream. Before this band, none had dared to develop such an ear-splitting concoction.
       If you were smart like Brokencyde, you would already have the next two aces up your fishnet sleeves. Those aces, of course, are a set of vulgar and generic lyrics about intercourse that every other trendy Hip Hop artist is making, and of course, a nonsensical music video that makes the ladies giggle, and the men storm out to their nearest hair-care provider. If you were smart like Brokencyde, you could just sit back and watch as a sold out stadium of Acutane-prescribed, Nightmare Before X-Mas paraphernalia-wearing, underbite-having teenage sluts are ready to give it up to you before you could say "Pete Wentz".

       And yes, of course, you too would sell out all of your teeshirts in three days. But you aren't smart like Brokencyde. And neither am I.

       For the full effect, I urge you to please watch the entire music video. You think it's terrible at first, but just hang on. Brokencyde has somehow created a perpetual cycle of atrocity unparalleled to any artist nor music video I have ever witnessed. It just keeps getting worse and worse.
       Now I'm not saying that after hearing Brokencyde, you will never be happy again. I am not even saying that you will never be as happy as you once were. What I am saying, is that it will take just a little bit more effort to be as happy as you once were. Just a bit, but enough that you are forever reminded of Brokencyde, and how they permanently (yes: forever) shifted your emotional capabilities and rendering you, (sigh), broken inside.
       Coming soon: My review of Millionaires.