Y’know how you buy ground turkey at the supermarket and you take it home and you put it in the fridge for, like, four or five days, and then you suddenly remember it and think it would be a brain-meltingly good idea to probably cook it or something? Then, y’know how, while it’s browning in the skillet and you’re desperately trying to ignore that funky smell, you daydream some sort of makeshift recipe featuring tamarind rind and blue cheese to hide the off flavor and gray color of the so-called meat?
Well, sometimes I think music is like that.
Don’t get me wrong. I listen to A LOT of music, like, ALL the musics (except country) ALL the time. I can appreciate classic rock and punk and disco and jazz and big band and alternative and such (as long as it isn’t country…did I mention I don’t like country music?). But, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that my likes have limits and most of them are based on expiration dates.
I was on my way back to the office after lunch today and the radio station I was listening to happened to play a clip of a new Bruce Springsteen song. If I hadn’t been busy shooting heroin directly into my eyeball at that very moment, I would’ve yelled to the heavens for The Boss to please stop. Look, I like Bruce Springsteen. I do. He’s a fine American. He has a solid sense of humor about himself. And he’s had some classic songs. I never would’ve made it through the summer of seventh grade cutting my grandmother’s lawn without the fine strains of “Glory Days” pulsing through my shitty Walkman headphones (or “Spin Me Round” by Dead or Alive…but that’s another story entirely). But enough is enough. You proved your point.
Some artists don’t know when to stop. Paul McCartney is a great example. Fuck him and that goddamn Christmas song of his. The Rolling Stones? Another PERFECT example of this phenomenon. I refuse to hear anyone who disagrees that nothing after “Sympathy for the Devil” matters.
And please don’t confuse my staunch opinion with struggling to hang on to my youth by blasting musicians far older than me. I take equal offense to groups like Two Door Cinema Club and Local Natives and Mumford & Sons whose second efforts were pale, distorted shadows of their debut albums. Granted, the sophomore slump rule comes into play here, so let me delve further into my own vast music library with more measured examples…
Jane’s Addiction: First two albums are amazing and brilliant and inspired. Ritual de lo Habitual, however, falls off the rails somewhere in the second act. At least I think that’s where it happens. I always fall asleep when “Three Days” comes on.
Red Hot Chili Peppers: Going strong through albums 1-4 and then getting a little too self-aware with Blood Sugar Sex Magik. I liked it, but they lost me after that.
Depeche Mode: Everyone, even Dave Gahan with his drugged out hallucinations of three-headed babies, wooden puppets, and garbage monsters, knows that this group peaked with Violator. Half of Songs of Faith and Devotion was likeable. Ultra had two passable songs. But “John the Revelator” was the only redeeming thing about Playing the Angel. I’ll give them credit at least for a slower, more dramatic flame-out.
U2: This is one of the few bands that has ridden the wave (see also: Nine Inch Nails and/or Beastie Boys). They hit all-time highs with The Joshua Tree, dipped into borderline irrelevance when they became smarmy caricatures of themselves for a few albums, and then resurfaced strongly with All That You Can’t Leave Behind, and held on by their toenails with How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. There is abolutely no excuse, however, for that fucking song on No Line on the Horizon about log-ins and Myspace chatrooms. That said, I will still probably buy their next album because I hate myself.
I know I can’t be the only person who sees this? Pearl Jam, Weezer, Afghan Whigs, Oasis, Liz Phair (I used to be sooooooo in love with her), The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, Billy Joel, Elton John, KISS (hahahahahahaha), fucking Madonna…they’ve all hit a certain level of peak musical importance and then kept going to disastrous results. It needs to stop.
At first I thought it was just me being grumpy, tying life events and locations to certain songs, and feeling indifferent about new music. But it’s not. I LOVE new music…WHEN IT’S GOOD. The 1975? Awesome. The latest from Santigold? Good stuff. Tegan and Sara’s new one? A bit poppier than I’d prefer, but a solid group of songs nevertheless. But Vampire Weekend’s third album? Like bad weed…two hits and a buttload of MEH.
My plea to everyone: Either STOP MAKING SHITTY MUSIC or else please put a sticker on your best album so we all know, definitively, when we should stop listening.