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ivan@stellysee.de
| From | "Jeff" <jeff.teez@comcast.net> |
| Subject | Re: Beach Boys - wayback? |
| Date | Mon, 30 Apr 2007 14:57:17 -0400 |
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Jamie wrote:
That was the point I was making about living in the past with the
"wayback
machine". There's been 35 years worth of music SINCE the Beach Boys. And
it
isn't a matter of feeling superior. It's a matter of growing along with
two
generations of musical change. I don't feel the need to investigate that
sunny little corner of the '60s anymore than most people here would have
the
need to go back and investigate German jazz pre-World War II. It would
not
speak to who I am as a music listener NOW.
In reply:
Okay Jamie, I hear ya. To each his own, certainly. Who *I* am as a music
listener right now, on this very day, is a guy who will most joyfully go
"back" and listen and love every minute of, say, Endless Summer, and
then plow right ahead into The Pipettes, Drake Bell or the new Scritti
Politti, just for example. I'm 48 and I just don't see any difference at
all. Not specifically in the styles or sounds of those couple of bands,
of course, but I just listen to everything, regardless of when it was
made or who made it. My first record was Meet the Beatles, my newest is
The Feeling's "12 Stops". I listen to everything in between, musically
and chronologically *all the time*, back and forth. I revisit sunny
little corners, dark bleak alleys, melancholy little parks and
overlooks, whatever suits my mood. The 35 years of music since the Beach
Boys isn't necessarily any better or worse than the 35 years of music
that preceded it, fair enough? I most happily live in the past (however
one defines it) and all the rest of the years too, right up until now,
and I look forward with sweet anticipation to whatever new AND old music
I'll be listening to 20 years from now (God willing). I make no
distinctions and I don't understand why anyone would.
Make me cry, laugh, think, dance. Teach me, piss me off, celebrate with
me, console me, push me over the edge, help keep me young at heart. Just
please keep making the music, all of you! But please, for God's sake,
let's just stop analyzing the shit out of everything for at least a
little while. It's probably human nature to try and make sense of it
all, but last time I looked, this was still *rock and roll*. Ignore the
critics, bloggers and other "typists" and just crank it up. And while
we're all at it, let's check our massive ego's at the digital door and
just fucking DANCE, for God's sake. Let's all be 13 again (ahh ... 1972)
and give the literary masturbation a nice long break. Too many words,
not enough FUN. Celebrate, inform, share information, but please leave
the rest of the crap to the historians.
I need a ZZTop spinal readjustment, a Clash high colonic and a total
Ramones lobotomy. "To go" please, and throw in a handful of those little
salt packets, too. Put the top down and mash that motherfucker to the
floor. Give me the entire Hunter S. Thompson "treatment" and cue the
GFR!
Cuz I don't need a whole lot's of money, I don't need a big fine car ...
jeff teez
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