Something is happening with me and music where I don’t want to listen to anything I haven’t already heard. I just want to sit and marinate in my horribly overplayed high school music. And I will forever sing the praises of the music from my teen years, because whatever the artists were churning out at the moment I decided to become rebellious, well, that must be where the real shit is.
But something happens when actually go to listen to it. I stop. It makes me feel too fatigued, too old hat, and I realize that the rest of my tastes have moved on, and so I just stop. I’m like a jaded war vet, and Rilo Kiley is my Vietnam. Some horrible shit happened out there, dude. My Second Lieutenant cried for his mommy. Cried like a baby. I saw one man get his…well, nevermind.
Sometimes I like to think of myself as a regular at an old diner. I got sick of the food pretty quickly, but I learned a long time ago that ignorance is the best way the only way to stay happy, so I keep coming back. No more coffee for me, Wanda. The usual? Nah, I’m not much in the mood for vittles. I’ll just sit here on my worn barstool and judge the people at the other end, like always.
Basically, I don’t really listen to music anymoar.
