rock and roll musings by Tim Byrnes

Of Hip and Hop and Hope and Hate: Random Thoughts on Growing Old Disgracefully

     Finally got a day off and got to the library. Thoughts racing like a train. Find myself walking too fast all the time, even at home. Have to constantly ask myself "What are you in such a hurry for?" and force myself to slow down. Let's see what's been on my furry little mind lately?

     I've noticed that lately I've been turning up the radio, or stopping on the television music channel for hip hop stuff more and more. I really like Kanye West (although I wish his records sounded as tough as he apparently thinks they do. I have/had the same problem w/Metallica). VH1 showed  a Jay Z concert from Madison Square Garden that rocked harder than anything I'd seen since ... since... well, since the Beastie Boys concert movie made up of vidcam shots from the audience. Jay Z represents, to me, the Uptown rapper - sorta like how B.B. King represents Uptown Blues where the Beasties are like the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion: all rackety roll and a little cartoony around the edges, a tactic that helps the millionaire posing as a thug stance seem a little more credible.

     I know that most, if not all, 'popstars' lie through their bonded teeth about who they are and where they came from, padding their resumes w/drug dealer pasts and shooting incidents. Some real, more embellished, some outright invented I'm sure. I'm at the point where this perceived hipocracy seldom gets in the way of my enjoying the random slamming groove, shall we say,  but as usual I yearn for that elusive, non-existent Truth or, failing that - and we all fail that - at least a modicum of sincerity.

     Enter Britney Spears. Growing up in public. Pulling a solid (if vapid - hey this is dance music, right) album out of the trailer park tabloid trainwreck that has become her public image, if not her life, in recent months. For all the tragedy surrounding Spears and her ex and the kids, and I don't minimize the tragedy, I just don't see it as any of my business, an aging cynic like myself finds a twisted comfort in the celebration of all things fucked up her life has become. Not since Iggy was a Stooge has self destruction looked so appealing.

    Yes, I know I'm sick. See what my problem is, is I'm happy. Or at least content. Work's become a real source of pride and accomplishment and all that happy nonsense. Besides which, I've just been too damn busy to piss, moan or write much. I fear I'm falling into the sobriety trap. I'm not comparing my work to the following folks, but it seems almost all ther artists I've looked up to during my long, long life became, after a prolonged and impressive drinking/drugging/depressive artistic cycle either got sober, got therapy or got both and/or found Jesus or Buddha or somebody  and wound up thereafter putting out lousier and lousier record.

  SEE: Reed, Lou - Westerberg, Paul - Dulli, Greg - Smith, Aero (although I've always found them dreadful) etc.

     So I got this guitar and I'm spending what little time off I've had lately watching tv w/the sound off and playing the blues like any other divorced dentist or stockbroker when Ii should be writing anthems of anger (I mean the whole world IS still going to hell in a handbasket. Come on, when even Matchbox 20 believes 'the world in burning to the ground" then we're in trouble people.) but I'm just too damn well fed and self satisfied to raise any ruckus 'cause my life's alright.

    Becoming what one hates: It's the new American Dream, if not the new black.

    See y'all later, I'm gonna go shopping online for a beatbox.

Posted by: timbyrnes at 18:08 | link | comments (4)

Comments:

#1  30 October 2007 - 17:04

 

eh. there may some amount of suffering involved in the creation process but it doesn't have to hurt to be real. contentment is good while it lasts. enjoy it. everything is temporary. and celebration and joy are as much a part of great music as angst and alienation.

also, just gotta say the new john fogerty rocks. as does the new neil young. and the new joni mitchell is beauty on a stick.

limine

#2  01 November 2007 - 18:00

 

I know. Complaining about contentment! Like Leo Durocher once said 'Some people aren't happy unless they aren't happy'. I'm working on not always being that guy anymore and progress is slow, but painful.

All kidding aside, I think I just don't like happy music.
tim

timbyrnes

#3  01 November 2007 - 18:38

 

Works for me. The best depressed music comes down to where y'r at, throws an arm around yr shoulder and tells you it'll be all right. Or at least sits and has a drink with you. Which, mind you, isn't an option for either of us, but it's nice to know a song'll do that for you. :D

burninglight

#4  09 November 2007 - 05:40

 

I always trust the songs written in turmoil more than the "life I love you, all is groovy" type of songs.

At the same time, we gotta watch out for those guys who are always unnecessarily depressed and trying to knock down our spirit, enter Bruce Springsteen and Joni Mitchell.

Who has the perfect balance of happy versus sad? Thank God for down-to-earth Christian artists like Phil Keaggy and Randy Stonehill is all that I have to say. Optimism through the tough stuff.

Jim

Anonymous

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