Tag Archives: Muse

Weenie Roasts of yore

The line-up for KROQ’s summer concert, Weenie Roast, was announced earlier this month. I’ve wanted to go to Weenie Roast before, and even managed to watch it once.

But this year… This year I actually have a source of income (small as it may be), and yet I don’t want to go. First of all it’s because I’m only interested in The Strokes of all the twelve bands, and only somewhat interested. (I’ve never heard of over half those bands, which probably goes to show how little I listen to KROQ nowadays.)

Secondly, I realized… I’m just different. There is a palpable change in my personality, oh my gosh! I’m getting old, I change less and less every year, compared to the years in my childhood, so it’s fascinating to me when I notice a change.

From the 2004 line-up, the bands I wanted to see and my current opinion: The Strokes – meh; Bad Religion – nope; Yeah Yeah Yeahs – maybe; Velvet Revolver – ew no; Yellowcard – nope; New Found Glory – nope; Modest Mouse – maybe; and The Killers – yeah right.

2005: Hot Hot Heat – nope; Interpol – nope; Jimmy Eat World – I only really liked Bleed American their self-titled album; The Killers!! – (exclamation points from original entry, hahaha!) nope; My Chemical Romance – no way in hell; MXPX – I don’t even remember who this band is; Queens otSA – maybe, but I haven’t listened to anything but Songs for the Deaf; Alkaline Trio – nope; The Bravery – nope.

Anyway. I didn’t say much in this entry. My music tastes have changed, big woop. But a slight change from 2004, I might be willing now to go see a live musical performance. I’ve seen Celtic Woman a number of times, “dragged” there by my brother, and if I got a seat far back enough from the stage maybe the volume won’t hurt my ears.

The only rock band I have any interest in seeing perform live though is Muse. I think they’re in L.A. this summer? I keep seeing ads on Facebook for tickets. But no one else I know is into Muse, so I’d be going alone, which would never happen.

old music versus modern music

All my life—or at least since I was a teen—my mom has oft repeated, “Music these days has no tune.” I agreed with her up until recently, when I had to change my views on music, or toss out most of my music collection!

My mom grew up during the 60s and 70s, seemingly the golden age of musical creativity. Motown, The Beatles, you name it, practically every musical act was or had a hit. I don’t remember who were her favorites as a kid, but now she’s a fan of Janis Ian (first and foremost!) and other female folk artists. She also enjoys doo-wop and jazz, and my brother has turned her on to Celtic Woman.

My journey through music is chronicled on my personal site, and although it hasn’t been updated for over a year, and I’ll likely add to it after this entry is done, there isn’t much that’s new. Right now the top five musical artists on my Last.fm profile are The Cardigans, Maria Mena, The Divine Comedy, Lisa Loeb, and the Submarines. Lately I’ve also been listening to Muse (thanks to a certain artist) and to movie soundtracks (yay, Neil Gaiman!).

Mum once told me that she rarely ever likes every single song on an album. No matter how much she likes the artist, there is always at least one song that she won’t listen to. (So when she says that she thinks Vanessa Carlton’s Be Not Nobody album is the best she’s ever heard, and there is not one bad song on it, this is very high praise, coming from her.) Basically, she is picky with her music.

When I told her that I usually like all the music I buy, she thought I was lucky. I thought, although I didn’t tell her, that maybe it just meant my standards weren’t as high. Normally it takes me a couple listens to actually hear the music, and not just a wall of mindless sound. I didn’t know whether I was readjusting my brain to accept the music, lowering my standards, or what. (When I hear a tune I like, I immediately know I like it, no adjustment period or subsequent listens required.)

By this point I began to think that either my taste in music really sucked compared to my mom’s and that I had a tin ear, or that my tastes differed from hers.
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