On Music

I was thinking about how people say they like certain artists or bands and then you hear it and think "there is NO way you actually like that, really?"  I mean, I think it's pretty obvious when someone likes something simply because it makes them seem cool or intelligent or knowledgeable about music or whatever (even though it doesn't, sorry.)

For me, "artists" that fall under this category are:

Dinosaur Jr
Wilco...

Wait...you know what annoys me even more?  Liking bands because they are from your country and you're supposed to.  For example the Tragically Hip.  I HATE the Tragically Hip and that's practically enough to get you stoned (not in a good way) here in Canada.  GOD do I hate the Tragically Hip.  Listen to this stupid song :



The singer drives me CRAZY.  I mean get over yourself you pretentious ass.  I bet the comments under this video are full of embarrassing Canadian nonsense about his genius.  I can't even bear to check.

All I see when I hear this band are sort of chubby, kind of stupid Canadian guys who drink Molson products and dance like they are stomping cockroaches slightly off-beat while yelling out "Whoooo!!" and "Fuckin' A!"

and these are the lyrics....WHAAAAA?

Spring starts when a heartbeat's poundin' 
When the birds can be heard above the reckonin' carts doing some final accounting 
Lava flowin' in Super Farmer's direction 
He's been gettin' reprieve from the heat in the frozen-food section (yaa-Aa)

Don't tell me what the poets are doing 
Don't tell me that they're talkin' tough 
Don't tell me that they're anti-social 
Somehow not anti-social enough, all right 

And porn speaks to it's splintered legions 
To the pink amid the withered corn stalks in them winter regions (euyeaaah)
While aiming at the archetypal father 
He said with such broad and tentative swipes why do you even bother (yeeaaah)

Don't tell me what the poets are doing 
Those Himalayas of the mind 
Don't tell me what the poets been doing 
In the long grasses over time 

{ Instra 

Don't tell me what the poets are doing 
On the street and the epitome of vague 
Don't tell me how the universe is altered 
When you find out how he gets paid, all right 
If there's nothing more that you need now 
Lawn cut by bare-breasted women 
Beach bleached towels within reach for the women gotta make it that'll make it by swimmin'