All I Want For Christmas

 

It’s that time of year. The appropriately named silly season, where everyone insists they were far more attentive to the good side than the bad, and the lists start coming out, as do the bones of contention, the gasps of indignation and – every now and then – the knives. While I take the necessary time to delve back through the past year to compile such a list, I thought I’d make one with a much longer tradition behind it. Thus, I submit my 2010 Christmas Wish List, ranging from the superficial kinda-wants to the absolute must-haves.

No more artists with bear in their name. I get it, I really do, the bear has a lot going for it with the fierceness and the fuzziness, and there’s worse animals for your band to be represented by. Grizzly Blobfish – while obviously quite apt, in that it looks pretty grizzly, anyway – just wouldn’t have the same ring to it. But enough.

Chillwave. It’s awful. Kill it.

~Core being stricken from the Great Music Genre Name Generator. If one can’t think of a new name for a genre, just do what other unimaginative people do and use a thesaurus. Synonyms for core include: crux, gist, nub, kernel, meat. I hereby rename hardcore as hardmeat… Wait, I might have to rethink that one.

No more  hidden tracks at the end of several  minutes of silence on CDs. I really mean it this time, dammit.

A Facebook app that prevents artists from friending me and subsequently spamming my wall with posts begging for votes in some obscure internet radio playlist/feature thing. If they post a link on their own profile, it’ll show up on my news reel and then I can choose for myself, without any implied pressure, whether or not I want to vote. Accolades are cooler if the thought comes from the people instead of the artist.

 

Now for the stuff that’s been pushing my Serious Face button:

Stop people from justifying music theft with reasons that don’t make sense. Not the biggest fan of illegal downloads, but I figure I’d ask for something that might be somewhere within the realm of possibility. Here’s the thing, no one has a right to someone else’s property – intellectual or otherwise – just because they want it. But it happens, it’s not likely to stop happening, and every now and then the reasons are understandable. However, at the very least, I’d like people to stop justifying  the action with utter bull like downloads are intangible and therefore have no value. If that were true, they’d be prepared to pay $20.00 for a blank CD.

The eradication of fans who are so damn preciously protective of “their” music, to the point that they want to restrict who listens to it. If a more ridiculous, pointless and downright counter-productive idea ever permeates attitudes toward art, it will no longer even be able to be called such. Art should broaden perspectives, not narrow them down so much that it causes people to behave like complete tools who think they have more of a right to listen to something than someone else, especially when based on utterly superficial presumptions about the kind of people listening to it or their reasons why. That’s like saying they have a right to limit the capacity an artist should have to be appreciated, which is an insult to the artists in question. On that note, I’m going to declare here and now that I don’t have to have a bootleg recording of a song someone sang in the shower years before they were famous to qualify as a ‘real’ fan.

With that in mind, I will also be requesting…

The immediate stripping of the right to listen to music for anyone who suddenly dislikes an artist for being featured on Pitchfork, or for simply gaining an increase in popularity. I don’t even have any words for how big a fail in attitude that is.  Except for maybe these: Anyone who lets what other people like and are listening to affect their own taste in music isn’t listening to music for the right reasons in the first place and doesn’t deserve the intelligence required to press play on an iPod.

Fan self-service is lame.

 

S4E

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About Satellite for Entropy

My thoughts are fish, all swimming about and prone to scattering swiftly. Some of them are pretty but not all of them are gold. Some have teeth; some travel in gangs and with a single school of thought; some are haphazard loners, darting about the place randomly and to no obvious purpose. But they're all slippery little suckers. Sometimes, I get lucky and find myself with a good grasp on one, long enough to remember what it looks like before releasing it back into the wild. View all posts by Satellite for Entropy

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