Music, on the road.

There is something to be said for music which is not ashamed to sound
whatever it sounds like. On this the same token I can accept music I
don't like in many cases. Who wants to hear of those?

I once thought it might be possible to make a computer program to
which you insert hits, snippets of successful songs and other bits of
sound in mass quantities; the program would then create an average
value. The resulting generated song would certainly be a huge success.
It would also be the ultimate mediocrity, while selling millions.
Guess what? Coldplay came and beat me to the punch in making soulless
crap.

I can't blame Coldplay for selling out - there was nothing there to
begin with. Now don't get me wrong, it's not an injustice they've sold
millions of records, there is a huge group of people who answer "a
little bit of everything" when you ask what do they listen to. It's
not as bad an answer you'd initially think if you know what albums
they buy.

Want another? Go listen to Panic at the Disco. As an experiment, play
through a whole album and rest a little. You will feel as something is
missing, but you cannot say what. It's a small piece of your essence.
The machine that spits out averages like Panic made something so
horrible it became a void trying to fill itself. H.P. Lovecraft writes
of a color out of space - not really a thing unto itself, something
not tangible, but something which spreads and sucks the life out of
anything it comes near. The album Pretty Odd is the Lovecraftian sound
out of space. It is not really music, but something alien and
inexplicably terrible, weakening and using you only to spread. As the
victims of horror stories I cannot offer you a way to kill it, I can
but flee from it. In Color Out of Space the victims die or retreat to
the relative safety of insanity. The latter must have happened with
the first Panic album, it's the only way to explain how the second
album sold so well.

OP Out.