It’s the difference between someone that has tattoos or is tattooed.
Listening to music is something that simulates you, sparks creativity, calms your soul.
And that’s where we are as I type, mildly hungover and moderately stoned, Aesop Rock in my headphones, ready for some serious sessions.
Whats new, what’s good?
Justin Bieb’s released Believe this week, and when I’m stoned I love inspirational shit. I watched the Beiber movie and cried and fucking loved it.
Metric released a new album, but I feel like playing nice tonight so I’m just leaving that alone for now. [Editor’s note: We’ve agreed to disagree.]
I think I’m a serious hater, this week in particular.
I have a bad habit of monopolizing the music wherever I work. If I have the chance to listen to my own music while on the job, I take full advantage. Being able to pick what mood you’re going to set that night and just zone out while taking orders – pure bliss.
I take this very seriously; raining afternoons are milked for emotion by Billie Holiday. Sunny evenings deserve the extra rays that only Sam Cooke can deliver. Cloudy Beach House mornings, Sergeant Pepper’s nights.
Anyway after it having been “my turn” all day, my sweet little goldilocks coworker asks me if she can please listen to her music for a bit. She looked a little apprehensive while clutching her iPod and, after listening to my Lou Reed/Emily Haines rant all morning, I didn’t really blame her.
I told my self I’d dig whatever she wanted to hear – she likes Crosby Stills Nash and Young, so it can’t be too bad.
I pop out my iPod and start clearing a near by table.
As I’m walking down the middle of the restaurant, my arms filled with plates, I stop.
Through the speaks I heard a distant whine, and I started to feel ill . . . .
Rumours by Fleetwood Mac.
There are two things that make me wanted to claw at my open sores: Stevie Nicks and Bono (who my mother insist its pronounced bone-oh.)
Now, I’ve met bigger haters – I once met a guy that said Stevie Nicks is a witch, and should be burned at the stake. That’s a little harsh; I prefer South Park‘s take of her as a goat.
Anyway, my poor little coworker could tell from the moment ‘Second Hand News’ started; disgust was all over my face.
I felt like such an asshole.
When I got home later that night, I found that a Fleetwood Mac tribute album was being released August 14th, and bands such as The Kills, MGMT and Tame Impala are playing on it. Even J Mascis and Lee Ranaldo Band are jamming out a song together. (Keep an eye out for my review . . .)
I began to ponder: all these guys have pretty decent taste, was I too hasty?
Do I just hate, to hate?
I’m beginning to question everything.
As of this moment, I’m halfway through Rumours; listening really listening. . . . I’m reading old interviews, lists of achievements and awards, taking it all in. . . .
It’s too much: Stevie Nicks and my hangover are a bad combination.
What is it with Fleetwood Mac that sends indie rockers into humbled, inspired reverence? Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast told the L.A. Times that she looked to the FM album Tusk for “inspiration and guidance” for her second album. (Maybe thats why Best Coast’s album was so over-wrought and bland.)
Everyone from Vampire Weekend to The Libertines swear this swill changed their lives and inspired their musical direction.
I DON’T GET IT.
I tried; I really tried.
After two hours of hard research and album upon album, I stand firm in my beliefs.
I don’t like Fleetwood Mac.
But it’s ok if you do!
Is it cool if I just like their tribute album?
No hating, just disliking.