My Addled Brain

I popped into that damn store again, because the demon god Beelzebub demands I purchase more of that soul-destroying rock music. Oh Beelzebub, I heard your cries, and I gladly complied. A few selections later, and I had pretty much tapped out my allowance for the week. But I’m not one to let something like fiscal responsibility get in the way of communing with the devil, so I puttered around for a few minutes to see if there was anything else I could find to more firmly implant my soul in the everlasting fires. A quick perusal of the endcap displays was in order. There was the usual display of brand-spanking-new music that I had no interest in, like that Top 40 nonsense that I believe now comes from a machine that randomly creates synthesized melodies. There was the emo-alt-rock selection, complete with two pasty brooding teens ogling the new Hawthorne Heights album, apparently forgetting that it’s not hip within that crowd to be seen actually buying albums with money. There was the standard “new” country rack - I call it “new” because most real country music died in the 80’s, and got replaced by easy listening songs played with an extra guitar - if you’re lucky, that guitar is steel. Of course, if you were really lucky, you probably wouldn’t be listening to it in the first place. There was a rack devoted entirely to some bizarre collection of jazz music, as remixed by techno DJs. I found myself intensely curious about this concept, but not enough to actually pay money for it.

Further research would prove this was wise. Imagine Billie Holiday singing “Fever” to something that sounds like it came from Fatboy Slim’s reject album. Standard electronic beats blare as “Fever fever fever fever” echoes in the background. One can only hope the ghost of Billie Holiday has figured out how to kill the living, because whoever pulled of that remix deserves retribution from the grave.

Finally, I came to that other staple of the Beast Buy endcap, the music publisher’s catalog compliation collection. This time, it’s Arista/BMG’s Platinum & Gold Collection. Quite the collection too, with plenty of your classic favorites - Waylon Jennings, Dionne Warwick, Tony Orlando and Dawn (a Sticks of Fire favorite, as I understand it), Air Supply (doing well these days - I mean, they were on TV and everything last month!), as well as fan-favorite Ace of Base. With a catalog like that, I don’t blame BMG for exploiting it for every last dime they can, not one bit.

As for the albums I ended up buying?

• I’ve heard American IV - The Man Comes Around before - my superior at my previous employer loaned me the CD, and I ended up hanging onto it for about a month. If a CD could show wear and tear from a laser, I guarantee that thing would look like ten miles of bad road by the time I was done with it. “Hurt” and “The Man Comes Around” prove that they didn’t just call him “The Man in Black” because of his fashion sense.
• Coldplay’s X & Y is a great album. It breaks no new ground. It doesn’t revolutionize a genre. It doesn’t make them this generation’s U2 - at least, not yet. But it’s a blast to listen to, and some of the melodies bore into your brain and stay there for days on end - “Talk” and “Hardest Part” have been doing this for the better part of a week now, duking it out over the right to be hummed by me at inappropriate moments during my workday.
• Foo Fighters’ In Your Honor has exceeded my expectations. Two, two, TWO discs in one: one hard rockin’, one mellow (but still rockin’) - pick the one that fits your mood and go with it. Highlights include “No Way Back” (the intro almost got me jumping up and down in my seat the first time I heard it) and “Virginia Moon” (Norah Jones!)

The latter two discs came with “free” music downloads, for exclusive, “never before released songs” you can only get by purchasing the album. And having either Windows 2000 or XP. And downloading Napster. While I qualify for the first two, I refuse to install a program on my PC just for two songs - not unless they toss in some pr0n as well, mind you. So, these two treasures will have to remain undiscovered by me, despite the profound a sense of grief the decision brings.