You will all recall my post from a few days ago about my trusty new headphones. Well I’m happy to report that there is one place where I don’t need them. There is a cafe not far from where I live which plays all manner of punk rock music. I find this to be exhilarating, because it is real. I am there now with all the grungy artsy types. I am a nerdy artsy type, but this helps me to feel cool.
I was having a conversation a few weeks ago with some friends about the vapid nature of pop music. After what must have seemed like hours to them, I finally offered a concession: I think Heavy Metal is real music, real art. Ramstein, etc. Great stuff. Authenticity counts for a lot. The same is true, I think, for punk rock.
I suppose I’m not a simplistic curmudgeon after all. It’s not modernity that I dislike, necessarily, but rather things that are fake, stuff white people like. The music of Britney Spears and John Philip Sousa, the art of Thomas Kinkade, the hymnals in the Roman Catholic Church, and those fancy-sounding fast food drinks at Starbucks: These things are all fake, and perhaps that’s why I need to use my headphones when I go to establishments that cater to the tastes of the mass man.
But here I sit in a punk rock cafe with no headphones. This will be a great environment in which to compose some music.
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