Okay, I feel as though a lot of you hold something against country music. Now, I don't really care why, because I assume most of your excuses will be that it is whiney, twangy, crappy, bad, all about heartbreak/love or something else equally vague and/or ignorant. I'm going to take a stand and say that anybody who says they dislike the genre for any lame reason like the ones listed above is because you haven't given it a real chance and probably never really listened to it, or stopped being annoyed by it to really listen. It is very hard to appreciate something when you are too busy hating it- I know from experience by growing up with my brother's musical tastes. I was too preoccupied with hating Nirvana, Bush, Silverchair, Metallica, etc. to see that I really did like it.
I grew up in a barn, and thus by age 9 I was asking for Allan Jackson and Shania Twain CDs. I was the only person in my family who listened to country music, the only one who liked it. Then, when I was 16 I had a Kenny Chesney CD in the car with my mom. I begged for her to let me play it, and she allowed it. A song came on, she listened to it, and hasn't stopped listening to country music since. Like all other genres of music, country can reach out to you with the lyrics and grab you and give you a song that completely explains the moment or situation you are living in.
My freshmen year in college, my roommate Nital was a complete emo/punk fan. But I played country every now and then, and she grew to like it. I feel like country is a genre that most people can like, but very few will give a chance. This summer in the barn there were counselors who complained about the music I played for the first few weeks, but then said they would miss it at the end of the summer. My first summer, as a counselor, I played nothing but Carrie Underwood's CD, and campers complained the first day, asking if they would "have to listen to country the whole week," but by Friday they wanted to go get the CD.
I went home for Christmas break this year and got in my dad's new car- the first three presets on the radio were country stations. I was completely surprised- this is a man who loves talk radio almost as much as his children. He looked at me, smiling, and said, "It got too quiet around here without you belting out country songs around the clock. Only problem is, they don't sound right because they sing it in the right key." Everybody has their own reasons for listening to country.
It might be a genre that you have to hear a little to get used to, but if you give it a chance you will find a song that speaks to you and you'll look at country music in a whole new light. I promise that.
My mom fell for "There Goes My Life," by Kenny Chesney and Nital fell for "Red Rag Top," by Tim McGraw. This summer I played a whole lot of Taylor Swift. I can't really say which country song I would claim as my favorite, but I definitely have a favorite for each emotion (yes, I have those) I am feeling. I will say that "Holy Water" by Big & Rich speaks to me, always, anywhere.
I see how it is easy to pick on country- its image is that of the red-headed stepchild of music. It is easy to pick on the redneck/hillbilly aspect, but that is the argument of people who've heard about 2% of what is out there. Then there is the whole "It's all about pick-up trucks and whiskey," but again, an argument from people who've heard another 2%.
For me, country is refreshing. It isn't about "hoes" or "bitches," clubs or status. It is about loving, losing, coping, and knowing where you came from. It is about dancing in a line, and not with some stranger's crotch gyrating on your ass. It has more empowering songs about struggling/working hard for what you want and empowering women to be independent than any other genre. It is very rare to find something demeaning in a country song.
And for those who love to pull the, "toby keith/ politically charged songs that make middle america look ignorant and rash" argument, I ask you to name a genre (that has lyrics) that doesn't have a song about politics or government.
Whether you listen to country, pop, southern/classic/punk rock, emo, metal, rap, jazz, r&b, classical, acoustic, techno, alternative, indie, blues or reggae, we are all just trying to get through this human experience with three minute breaks from the grind by relating to people who've found words that connect with us and music that moves us.
loving Chicago,
amk
"And she says take me away
And take me farther
Surround me now
And hold, hold, hold me like holy water
Holy water"
-"Holy Water," Big & Rich
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
John Mayer says carpe diem
Mayer's most recent blog entry:
"FROM THE HEART….
I need to write this.
I've been traveling alone in Japan for the better part of three weeks now, and It's been so remarkable an experience for me that I can't book a ticket home yet. I haven't spoken very much out loud these days, but I've been thinking to myself in what feels like surround sound. I can see so many things clearly, and feel so connected to myself and the world around me that I need to share the perspective with you.
I'm already aware that when I sing, say or write anything, 50 percent of the response will be in support of it and the other 50 will want to discount it. This blog, though, is directed to 100 percent of people reading it. If my blog truly does have any cultural effect, then it should be used for more than just pictures of sneakers and funny youtube videos. (If you don't think my blog has any effect, than you can't by definition be reading this right now and therefore don't have to respond to it in any way. Isn't that tidy?)
What I'm about to write isn't about fame or success or celebrity or the media. That's my business.
This is about us all.
This is about a level of self consciousness so high in my generation, that it's actually toxic.
This is about the girl in her bedroom who poses in front of the camera she's awkwardly holding in her outstretched hand. She'll take a hundred photos until coming up with one she's happy with, which inevitably looks nothing like her, and after she's done poring over images of herself, will post one on her myspace page and then write something like " I don't give a f*ck what you think about me. "
This is about the person trying out for American Idol, who while going off about how confident they are that they were born ready to sing in front of the world, are trembling so badly they can hardly breathe.
This is about me, the guy who walks through a throng of photographers into a restaurant like he's Paul Newman, but who leaves a "reject" pile of clothes in his closet so high that his cleaning lady can't figure out how one man can step into so many pairs of pants in a week.
This is about a young guy who maintains a celebrity blog that subsists on tearing other people down but who has wrestled with a lifelong battle for acceptance as a gay man.
This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it's incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we're all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right. And I don't want to act immune to that anymore. I took the biggest detour from myself over the past year, since I decided that I wasn't going to care about what people thought about me. I got to the point where I had so much padding on that, sure, I couldn't feel the negativity, but that's because I couldn't feel much of anything. And I think I'm done with that.
I'm not the first person to admit we're all self conscious, Kanye was. But what I want to do is to shed a little light on why we're all in the same boat, no matter the shape of the life we lead: because every one of us were told since birth that we were special. We were spoken to by name through a television. We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.
And really? Really? It turns out we're just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not. The paparazzo following me to the gym ain't gonna be Herb Ritts and the guy he's following ain't gonna be Bob Dylan. It's just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.
What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me.
Root for others.
Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.
Act nervous when I'm nervous, puzzled when I don't know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.
And when it's all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.
I'm going quiet now.
John"
"FROM THE HEART….
I need to write this.
I've been traveling alone in Japan for the better part of three weeks now, and It's been so remarkable an experience for me that I can't book a ticket home yet. I haven't spoken very much out loud these days, but I've been thinking to myself in what feels like surround sound. I can see so many things clearly, and feel so connected to myself and the world around me that I need to share the perspective with you.
I'm already aware that when I sing, say or write anything, 50 percent of the response will be in support of it and the other 50 will want to discount it. This blog, though, is directed to 100 percent of people reading it. If my blog truly does have any cultural effect, then it should be used for more than just pictures of sneakers and funny youtube videos. (If you don't think my blog has any effect, than you can't by definition be reading this right now and therefore don't have to respond to it in any way. Isn't that tidy?)
What I'm about to write isn't about fame or success or celebrity or the media. That's my business.
This is about us all.
This is about a level of self consciousness so high in my generation, that it's actually toxic.
This is about the girl in her bedroom who poses in front of the camera she's awkwardly holding in her outstretched hand. She'll take a hundred photos until coming up with one she's happy with, which inevitably looks nothing like her, and after she's done poring over images of herself, will post one on her myspace page and then write something like " I don't give a f*ck what you think about me. "
This is about the person trying out for American Idol, who while going off about how confident they are that they were born ready to sing in front of the world, are trembling so badly they can hardly breathe.
This is about me, the guy who walks through a throng of photographers into a restaurant like he's Paul Newman, but who leaves a "reject" pile of clothes in his closet so high that his cleaning lady can't figure out how one man can step into so many pairs of pants in a week.
This is about a young guy who maintains a celebrity blog that subsists on tearing other people down but who has wrestled with a lifelong battle for acceptance as a gay man.
This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it's incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we're all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right. And I don't want to act immune to that anymore. I took the biggest detour from myself over the past year, since I decided that I wasn't going to care about what people thought about me. I got to the point where I had so much padding on that, sure, I couldn't feel the negativity, but that's because I couldn't feel much of anything. And I think I'm done with that.
I'm not the first person to admit we're all self conscious, Kanye was. But what I want to do is to shed a little light on why we're all in the same boat, no matter the shape of the life we lead: because every one of us were told since birth that we were special. We were spoken to by name through a television. We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.
And really? Really? It turns out we're just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not. The paparazzo following me to the gym ain't gonna be Herb Ritts and the guy he's following ain't gonna be Bob Dylan. It's just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.
What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me.
Root for others.
Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.
Act nervous when I'm nervous, puzzled when I don't know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.
And when it's all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.
I'm going quiet now.
John"
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I dont have time
right now. but I just had an idea.
I am going to go through some of my friends' facebooks and post some of their good quotes here. You know how i love quotes.
Stay tuned.
loving Chicago,
AMK
"I am the Quote Master!"
-me, c. March 2007
I am going to go through some of my friends' facebooks and post some of their good quotes here. You know how i love quotes.
Stay tuned.
loving Chicago,
AMK
"I am the Quote Master!"
-me, c. March 2007
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Religion
I think I need to find some sort of religion. I need a constant in my life- something to have faith in. Perhaps not a religion based on a God, but I need structure and things to believe in.
loving chicago,
amk
loving chicago,
amk
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
From the beach
Ok, I have been away from the blogging community for 5 days and feel absolutely out of the loop.
So, a list of things on my mind is in order. You know how I love lists born of my mind.
1. I am in florida, I have tan lines, I drink tequila and/or rum every day, I am happy.
2. I am going to change the name of my blog to something that starts with "A" so that I can be on the top of the alphabetical blog list on the Artichoke. Perhaps Aardvark Ali or something like that. I don't take well to being toward the bottom of the list.
3. Rom-Com is not turning out as I would have hoped. I have learned lots since the last update, even acquired a voicemail from Lead Actor, but I just dont know what to do with the whole sitch.
4. I love sun. Sun, sun, sun. mmm mmm mmm. Down on my belly.
5. I went to Sanibel Island today and it has themost outrageous creatures living on the beach- when you walk down the shore all of the scalloped clam thingys open and close- it looks like they are talking to you. There were also crabs, coral, sea sponges, clams, starfish, and lots of autres choses. and everything was in abundance. it was brilliant.
6. Today we also went yachting off the coast of Naples and dolphins were playing in the wake of our boat. Then we sunned on the front of the boat and I felt like JLo in her Jenny from the Block music video.
7. did i mention the constant intake of tequila, rum and coronas? Life is glorious.
that's all, i suppose.
Loving Chicago, Loving Naples,
AMK
me, under the influence of margaritas, asking a guy (Jean-Luke) how to spell his name:
Me: "Wait, how do you spell it?"
(somebody interjecting into the convo) "Jean- L-U-C-K."
Me: "No! L-U-C-K is 'lucky' without the 'y!'"
Everybody: "Yeah. Or 'luck.'"
...shoot.
So, a list of things on my mind is in order. You know how I love lists born of my mind.
1. I am in florida, I have tan lines, I drink tequila and/or rum every day, I am happy.
2. I am going to change the name of my blog to something that starts with "A" so that I can be on the top of the alphabetical blog list on the Artichoke. Perhaps Aardvark Ali or something like that. I don't take well to being toward the bottom of the list.
3. Rom-Com is not turning out as I would have hoped. I have learned lots since the last update, even acquired a voicemail from Lead Actor, but I just dont know what to do with the whole sitch.
4. I love sun. Sun, sun, sun. mmm mmm mmm. Down on my belly.
5. I went to Sanibel Island today and it has themost outrageous creatures living on the beach- when you walk down the shore all of the scalloped clam thingys open and close- it looks like they are talking to you. There were also crabs, coral, sea sponges, clams, starfish, and lots of autres choses. and everything was in abundance. it was brilliant.
6. Today we also went yachting off the coast of Naples and dolphins were playing in the wake of our boat. Then we sunned on the front of the boat and I felt like JLo in her Jenny from the Block music video.
7. did i mention the constant intake of tequila, rum and coronas? Life is glorious.
that's all, i suppose.
Loving Chicago, Loving Naples,
AMK
me, under the influence of margaritas, asking a guy (Jean-Luke) how to spell his name:
Me: "Wait, how do you spell it?"
(somebody interjecting into the convo) "Jean- L-U-C-K."
Me: "No! L-U-C-K is 'lucky' without the 'y!'"
Everybody: "Yeah. Or 'luck.'"
...shoot.
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