Sorry for the prolonged radio silence around these parts. Besides the fact that I’m seriously considering lighting my feet on fire to ward off the ravages of frostbite, I’m also fighting off a rather nasty bout of work-related burnout.
That said, there’s nothing like some high-octane cheese to bring a big ol’ grin to even the most rundown soul. I’m talking about the strange and disturbing resurgence of hair rock. I’m talking about The Darkness, whose success completely baffles me. It’s as if every new generation never learns the mistakes of the previous one.
Hell, with all of the 80’s revival still going strong, I’ve actually started to see those fuzzy harbingers of fashion doom again. I’m talking about legwarmers… oh lord, take me now. All I know is that if acid wash or those jeans that had the zipper that went from the front all the way up the back (“Ass Jeans”? “ZipperButts”? I don’t remember) come back in style, I’m outta here.
Maybe it’s just me and my crabby demeanour, but whenever I hear the “music of my youth”, I don’t feel nostalgic; I start to feel disenfranchised, annoyed, and angry all over again.
Still, The Darkness. I don’t know why, but when the singer hits that first falsetto note, and the sounds of cornball Eddie Van Halen-inspired guitar solos wafts past my ears, I start laughing.
I can’t figure out if this is a good or bad thing.
Watch I Believe in a Thing Called Love (sorry, Windows Media Player only), if you dare.
Edit: By the way, for the folks who are syndicating the BeatnikPad using newsreader software, I have tweaked the RSS 2.0 feed to contain full entries. Just another way to show you that I love you.
