Art and life co-habitate, informing, imitating, and enriching each other constantly. Each week in Better Living Through Music, RFT Music writer Ryan Wasoba explores this symbiotic relationship.
As some of these Better Living Through Music columns have pointed out (and as my nemesis Matt Harnish will certainly call me out for stating), I have become a 29-years-young jaded old man. I type this with a smirk, a winky emoticon rather than smiley or frowny, because I have come to terms with not meeting the expectations of the modern music fan - to actively and physically participate in a community, to be up to date on new releases, et cetera. In my reality, I would often rather listen to Radiohead on my couch than go through the inconveniences necessary to see Radiohead play live. This is because I love music but I do not necessarily love music culture.
Music culture gives us festivals, magazines, package tours, Record Store Days, and even this very blog. While I hesitate to shine any negative light toward the hand that feeds me, or the final hands on that list who sign checks that indirectly feed me, these are not the reasons I love music. They are outlets for expression of this love, but they are not the entire being.
A few years back, my views were nearly opposite. I frequently read reviews of records I knew I'd never listen to, and I watched tour schedules to see which bands were shacking up with each other. It is not that I no longer care about these things, I just find the necessary effort exhausting. My prior cultural obsession helped shape my tastes, and perhaps I now reap the reward of actually listening to and enjoying the music I spent years finding.
Stepping back, I see some facets of music culture as productive and some as downright silly. I also view some as destructive, particularly genre-based stigma. Over the past few years, I started appreciating heavier music. I love the newest Converge record,and have actually been inspired by it as a musician and person. But if Converge played in St. Louis, I probably would not go because of my frustrations with "hardcore dancing" and similar behavior that goes along with the music. This is not Converge's fault, and I don't even think it's the fault of the fans of the band who partake. It is just a cultural divide that drives a wedge between my enjoyment of an artist and my ability to express that enjoyment in a real world sense.
Genre-based stigma may be the most prevalent negative aspect of musical culture and the hardest habit to break. If somebody hates the culture of electronic music, I am going to have a very difficult time getting him/her/it to listen to Aphex Twin. Similarly, the Insane Clown Posse might have some amazing songs; I would never know because the culture around the group is too offputting for me to even know what the band actually sounds like. It also leads me to make cultural assumptions; I can guess what ICP does based on information I have gathered. I cannot imagine I'm too far from the truth.
An aspect that seems silly is the hunt for obscurity, which I have written about before but still think of constantly. There seems to be a phase in a music fan's life when it seems like the coolest thing you can do is listen to music nobody else cares about; music culture tends to reward this behavior. Now I am at the point where I enjoy obscure music but am self-conscious about it because I have internalized my love so deeply that it seems inappropriate to share, coupled with the fear of my tastes coming off as culturally based rather than personal. I cannot wait to arrive on the other side, where I no longer have to consciously not care and I can just be. I am going to listen to the weirdest shit when I am an old man. I cannot wait for grandchildren to ask what their grandpa used to listen to and I can put on a Grand Ulena record.
Subscribe now to get the latest news delivered right to your inbox.