2003 in music
There’s been no music this century that excites me.
It’s kind of an out-there statement to come from my mouth. I am an avid music fan and at twenty, I’m by no means so old that the fads have stopped calling.
I want the nineties back, even though, for most of their duration, I was an idiot in all matters musical. With a degree of pain, I clearly remember singing All-4-one songs down the phone to my girlfriend in late 1997. In about ’98, I changed girlfriends, started going out with a definitive rock chick, and had a pronounced personal reformation. I had less than two years left to enjoy the nineties, but I have to say, I revelled in them. I devoured everything I could find, from Jeff Buckley, to Nirvana, to the Smashing Pumpkins, to Sunny Day Real Estate. I swam in Nick Cave, Radiohead, Elliott Smith. I digested folk-rock, indie, hardcore, emo (real emo, not the pop-punk, about-about-as-talented-as-Avril-fucking-Lavigne waste-of-my-good-listening-time bullshit that MTV touts as too-cool-for-school), and I turned into the sort of person that any fan of these genres is destined to become (a masochistic, self-flagellating wreck!).
But then the nineties ended. I am still as excited by music as I was back then. I still devour bands. I scour every genre, because I believe that there has to be a band of merit in all of them (at least one artist, or even one song that makes me sit up and listen closely).
This is my problem though. All of the great new music I’ve discovered of late is either not new (because it was released pre-2000), or depressingly close to an older band that I love. Don't get me wrong, I have my Strokes CDs along with everyone else, but they just don’t do it for me the way Jeff Buckley’s Grace does it for me. I still melt to Elliott Smith. I get carried away by just-plain-stunning Sunny Day Real Estate songs. The Postal Service (Death Cab for Cutie’s Ben Gibbard and Dntel’s Jimmy Tamborello) released a fantastic album this year and I love it with all of my heart. Then, perhaps to prove it wasn’t a fluke, Death Cab released a really awesome album of their own (if you don’t own Transatlanticism, I pity you).
Those are the only 2003 releases that got me, hook, line and sinker. The White Stripes still bore me stupid, even though Meg White has obviously been taking drumming lessons. A Perfect Circle’s new release is okay, but it pales in comparison to Mer De Noms. Radiohead went off the rails long ago, but I still like the odd song. I can’t help but think that I’ve forgotten something absolutely great that came out this year. But then, if it was so great, I wouldn’t have been able to forget it, would I?
It’s sad to say, but I think the Australian rock music scene has completely died in the arse along with the international lot.
Powderfinger brought out another album that was an insult to the pre-Internationalist fan-base (‘Baby, I got you on my mind’ repeated for three fucking minutes? Don’t insult my intelligence!).
Something for Kate kept a promise that, in retrospect, I noticed they made when they released Echolalia. That promise being that the next album would … well … suck.
Fourth Floor Collapse, a couple of guys from Western Australia that I was infatuated with, released an album that, especially when compared to their gem of a debut, gave me nothing.
Is this just because I’m getting old?
Honestly, I like lo-fi as much as the next guy. My problem is, Sonic Youth did lo-fi well. The Strokes and The White Stripes do it fun and their kind of fun irritates me. If I want that kind of fun, I’ll go to a nightclub for super-produced pop interwoven with techno beats and half naked girls.
I listen to music because I want to feel. Who can really say that the White Stripes make them feel anything other than nauseous?
Please, If you can prove me wrong, send me an Email (tim@hypercritical.net), I would dearly love it if you could.