Monday, August 22, 2005

One thing that bugs me: the everchanging landscape of musical genres & sub genres, to the atomic level, so much so that each genre is now defined by what it follows, what it isn't, and whether the guitarist checks out his shoes while playing. My one true love, and I despise the vernacular of the supposed officianados.

Dipshits dropping lines like, "I'm not really into urban, rain-forest ragga". Post-rock? Neo-Rock? Post-Neo-Geek-Jock-Rock? Here's a question...Does it rock? That's all I need to know. And is all I want to know. Keep your morphing-genres-like-changing-underwear out my face.

You remind me of fools waxin' about white widow, northern lights, and acapulco gold. Just pack it and pass it, bub. I can't tell from the look or smell. And neither can you.

That is all. Carry on.


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