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Zen And The Art of Not Listening
May. 28th, 2008 | 09:58
GPS: Bus 66 outbound for Medical Lake, Cheney, EWU PUB
zeitgeist: 
thoughtful
now playing: “Smoke In The Desert, Eating The Sand, Hiding In The Grass” — Envelopes
I'm going to hit you with bloggish philosophical ramblings:
I think I've figured it out, at least in part (and formed in part as a reaction to the fact that Weezer is releasing a new album in a couple weeks, and the fact that the last few albums have been somewhat lacklustre; but still, even then, I have high hopes for Weezer).
A problem is comparing new music to old music. I can't help it. Things like the last Weezer album. These things will always be judged based on the previous merits. I don't have to listen to anyone else to like something. I can like it because I like it, even if it's crap. I can like albums for their own sake, not because they're good (yes, I like the ones that are lauded as amazing by places like pitchfork — which shows that I have good taste — but I like other things that don't exist there. There's some amazing scum I listen to, and I need more of that.)
But I like things based on their own merits, and I need to be more self-assured of these convictions my own brain concocted. I'm also convinced that not all of the things I like might have real merit. Some of the music I like is crappy or annoying to others, but I like it. Sometimes that's because of the artistic merit of the music. Sometimes it's edgy, pushing the envelope of what's really music. Other times, it's just the repetitive, somewhat-robotic music that I find insanely dancable and gets my feet moving. Great for walking, dancing, working, background music. But in all cases, if I don't like it, I won't listen to it.
(Another funny thing about being self-assured is that I'll feel more assured about the comics I make, and might even make more).
Music is very much the product of where we are when it first moves us (I have memories of listening to the blue album's “Holiday”, and how it's tied so closely to Farsong when I first started writing it — the blue album, Pinkerton, and my junior year of High School). Perhaps I was feeling nostalgic yesterday. Not really sentimental, but I was feeling blocked in by all the things I thought were freeing as a junior and senior in High School.
This blocking-in is almost like the feeling of being trapped in one's skull. It's the feeling of becoming locked in one position in society, and I doing like it. Despite my best intentions, I feel this congealing. It's pigeonholing. It's categorisation, and I revile labels applied to me; I like doing my own thing. I fight it with every ounce I can muster, but I'm distracted.
But yesterday, I realised that I could take the position and make it what I want. That's still a little subversive. More than most.
But this idea ties in closely with the idea of liking things because I like them: it's not letting others decide what I like or what I do. I think I'm finally getting to the point that I'm comfortable enough with myself and know the things I like well enough to decide. To know. To not listen to other people.
You know, this would be called “being stubborn” if I were not the open-minded sort.
I think I've figured it out, at least in part (and formed in part as a reaction to the fact that Weezer is releasing a new album in a couple weeks, and the fact that the last few albums have been somewhat lacklustre; but still, even then, I have high hopes for Weezer).
A problem is comparing new music to old music. I can't help it. Things like the last Weezer album. These things will always be judged based on the previous merits. I don't have to listen to anyone else to like something. I can like it because I like it, even if it's crap. I can like albums for their own sake, not because they're good (yes, I like the ones that are lauded as amazing by places like pitchfork — which shows that I have good taste — but I like other things that don't exist there. There's some amazing scum I listen to, and I need more of that.)
But I like things based on their own merits, and I need to be more self-assured of these convictions my own brain concocted. I'm also convinced that not all of the things I like might have real merit. Some of the music I like is crappy or annoying to others, but I like it. Sometimes that's because of the artistic merit of the music. Sometimes it's edgy, pushing the envelope of what's really music. Other times, it's just the repetitive, somewhat-robotic music that I find insanely dancable and gets my feet moving. Great for walking, dancing, working, background music. But in all cases, if I don't like it, I won't listen to it.
(Another funny thing about being self-assured is that I'll feel more assured about the comics I make, and might even make more).
Music is very much the product of where we are when it first moves us (I have memories of listening to the blue album's “Holiday”, and how it's tied so closely to Farsong when I first started writing it — the blue album, Pinkerton, and my junior year of High School). Perhaps I was feeling nostalgic yesterday. Not really sentimental, but I was feeling blocked in by all the things I thought were freeing as a junior and senior in High School.
This blocking-in is almost like the feeling of being trapped in one's skull. It's the feeling of becoming locked in one position in society, and I doing like it. Despite my best intentions, I feel this congealing. It's pigeonholing. It's categorisation, and I revile labels applied to me; I like doing my own thing. I fight it with every ounce I can muster, but I'm distracted.
But yesterday, I realised that I could take the position and make it what I want. That's still a little subversive. More than most.
But this idea ties in closely with the idea of liking things because I like them: it's not letting others decide what I like or what I do. I think I'm finally getting to the point that I'm comfortable enough with myself and know the things I like well enough to decide. To know. To not listen to other people.
You know, this would be called “being stubborn” if I were not the open-minded sort.