This is going to start some fights.
A couple days ago we did a post on our Top 5 Guilty Pleasures (here’s mine and here’s Claire’s). Claire then had the best idea for a follow up: A post on artists or bands that we know we’re supposed to like but we, for whatever reason, just don’t. We feel really bad about it (hahah no.) but we just cannot stand our guilty non-pleasures. Here’s a list of my Top 5 Guilty Non-Pleasures.
I feel so bad, saying this aloud: I do not like Bob Dylan. I don’t like his stupid voice, I don’t like his boring guitar playing in his early period, and I have a general anathema to politics and music. And yes, I know, not all of his music is political; and yes, I know that his songwriting is bloody brilliant, but I still don’t care. If I have to hear that 3000 minute long whining opus that is “Like a Rolling Stone” I will probably track him down and murder him. In fact, I think I would love the place in history that murdering Bob Dylan would afford me.
Ok, so that was a little harsh. I do actually like “The Man in Me” and some of the stuff when he played with The Band. But overall, I think he’s overrated and boring on the best days, and on the worst he’s whiny and kind of a prick. And let’s not forget washed-out. You shoulda given up decades ago, Mr. Dylan.
Here’s the obvious: Dave Matthews wishes he was Thom Yorke. How much more of a shining endorsement can you get? It’s like hearing you’re a totally awesome dude from the lead singer from Insane Clown Posse or Rush Limbaugh. Radiohead makes insanely boring and bland music, so it’s not surprising that Mr. Matthews is the one rushing to champion them. And it’s so unoriginal – you give me a Radiohead album and I’ll give you the album it wishes it was but failed. Kid A? Dark Side of the Moon. OK Computer? A self-deluded, far-too-introspective version of Remain in Light. I know I’m supposed to like them – they’re paragons of our in-our-own-heads-too-much generation – but they bore me to tears. Angry tears.
“Who Are You?” “Baba O’Riley?” There is just something off about every song I hear by The Who, and I cannot put my finger on it. Oh wait, I just figured it out. Zero depth. Nada, zilch, none. And songs where they try to get deep – I’m looking at you, “Behind Blue Eyes” – are simply pathetic.
And don’t get me started on Tommy. It’s an awful, awful album, made worse by the fact that it purports to be a rock opera, and made unlistenable by Quadrophonic recording. Who was the genius that thought that having a completely separate track playing out of four precisely placed speakers would catch on, let alone even being remotely feasible in a lay person’s house, and really let alone sound good? Dumb.
The Rolling Stones
I must admit, there are songs that I really like by the Stones – “Sympathy for the Devil” is a near-perfect song (though the remix done by The Neptunes is better). But for every good song the Stones have, they have 30 bad ones. I guess that’s the price you pay for selling your soul to the aforementioned Devil so you can live beyond your mortal years. I had a dream once that the zombie apocalypse had started and woke up in a panic, only to come to the realization that I had dosed off to one of the concert networks on tv and they were playing the most recent Stones movie. But in all seriousness, most of their music is god-awful. “Start Me Up?” “Miss You?” God, they went disco for a while! Why are they venerated when they have a disco stage?!?
The Grateful Dead
Look, I’m cool with jams. I once participated in a 30 minute long version of the jazz standard “Blue Bossa,” which then segued into “No Woman, No Cry.” I’ve been there. But I also had the decency to use more than one scale while soloing. They use what I refer to as the Jerry Garcia scale – if you’ve heard Jerry Garcia take a solo ever, you know what it sounds like: A meandering, major-scale heavy on the 3rd, 5th, and 7th tones. It sounds happy. It sounds cool. But it’s boring and insanely repetitive. And I know everyone says you have to hear them live to “understand them” (is that just code for dropping acid in a crowd of smelly hippies?) but I have and I was still bored (even when Claire was getting her earhole licked out by a similarly smelly hippie). Sorry, hippies. Your god sucks at the guitar.