a pattern in static
A Quick Note About the Sacrifices of Bad Taste
“You know why so many people gave a shit about Nirvana?” It was a discussion about tone in a writing class. “It had nothing to do with what he was saying, can anyone honestly tell me they knew what all those songs were about?” My professor was eloquent, bald and homosexual and with all restraint I kept from writing him love letters. “It was the way he sang those songs. Most of these kids didn’t have the capacity to understand the things he was singing about, and I bet most of it was bullshit anyway. But tone, the way he sang those songs, that pain, the raspy, intimate tone of Kurt Cobain’s voice… well, that’s something a whole generation could relate to.” He began to sing ‘Dumb’ in a fairly accurate emulation of Cobain’s voice. “These lyrics are stupid” he said, “but they make us want to cry.”
I laughed a little when he explained exactly what I couldn’t in decade or so of music listening. Most of the time I couldn’t tell you why I liked a song, or a band. “Shit, this is just good music.” I now I understand why things were so embarrassing when it came to my musical preferences.
It used to be that I could only listen to punk music;up the BPM, kill the harmonies, simplify the chord progressions and testify. It could have been ADD but those tunes, with drums relentlessly banging at the same rhythm as a lawn sprinkler, are the only thing that could ever keep attention. That was relatable, I didn’t give a fuck with they were singing about and they were singing about not giving a fuck. From this obnoxious little seed my musical infatuation grew. Everyone has one of these stories.
They also have other stories. Like when I gave up punk for something that struck even deeper, the tone that spoke to me.
“Man, that line gets me every time! ‘I’d apologize for bleeding on your shirt’! Who says that!”
I don’t remember his name but he handed me some headphones and a CD player and made me listen to a song that I pretended to hate. No, I didn’t understand why that line meant so much, but I liked it, the guy singing for this band was belting out lines that came straight from my own head, things that you think but never say. It was his tone, like he was on the verge of tears. I felt embarrassment, “I can relate to this?” I thought.”How fucking pathetic.” Taking Back Sunday’s Tell All Your Friends came out in 2002 and I swear I still listen to that damn album. I spent my life in the closet in the ensuing years, abashed about liking TBS, answering “Yeah, they’re whatever.” whenever I was asked about listening to them. TBS led to Brand New, Brand New led to The Early November which led to something more emotional, more shamelessly sentimental. I still get that chill of embarrassment now that I mention it… these were dark days.
It’s a relief to listen with freedom.
