Click here to go home

By Nabeela Shaikh in Muzikk! - On

We’ve all had our phases. And it’s a mutual understanding we skip the embarrassing Disney/boy band ones and admit to a less shameful Green Day one. But if you’re still a lost soul when it comes to finding a genre that defines you, you should reconsider. Why, you ask? Well, because I needed a good debut article. And because I’m sure you, reader, can do better than Nickelback. No really, Nickelback?

Anyhow, here goes:

Nothing But The Beat

So you’re in the club. Wait a darn minute. Legally speaking, you’re not allowed to be. Why, you sneaky you. .

But you are, anyhow. And since the joy of inebriation unfortunately exceeds your budget, you try to ‘get high on the music’. And although you’d never admit aloud that that latest Ke$ha track sounds like Nintendo music gone wrong, and that holy master of dubstep Sir Skrillex sounds like Martians probing around with the sound mixers in Dr. Dre’s recording studio, you’re “feelin’ the bass” and “going’ hard” and pretending to wait for the drop when your poor smoker’s lungs are actually trying to catch their breath.

And how does that make you feel?: Are you feeling it now, ardent party animal? The piercing stab of her stiletto in your foot, the spilt mojito making its way down your back, the douche-y buff dude’s death glares as you stand coyly watching with his girl drunkenly revealing her ample “personality” for lack of more interesting activities ‘in the club’. As you receive a string of colorful language from said stud more ripped than your jeans, you come to a conclusion that EDM is not for you, unless it’s blaring on Vh1 in the isolated safety of your own living room.

Rock Of Ages

Then there’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold and that’s just about the only verse you know. Isn’t it? Yup, I speak of that which is (almost) every teenager’s favorite and simultaneously the focus of ardent dislike of (almost) every parent being subjected to the loud screams of:

In the 70’s: Scaramouch, Scaramouch, *makes up implausible words* SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STONE ME AND SPIT IN MY EYE!
In the 80’s: *makes up ludicrous lyrics, then belts out* OH, OH OH SWEET CHILD O’ MINE!
In the 90’s: *decides that the lyrics can’t really be ‘an albino, a mosquito, so’* I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS! Here we are now, entertain us!
Or people of all nationalities singing ‘DREAM OF CALIFORNICATION!”
In the 2000’s: *tries to keep up with the rap* but in the end, IT DOESN’T REALLY MATTER!

And how does that make you feel?: Well, you get the picture. And every once in a (dark side of the?) blue moon, you meet the musician dude. We’ve all met them, the guitarist who just happens to know the keyboard too and just happened to be in two or three bands as a lead vocalist; the amiable guy who unknowingly intimidates you with his knowledge of all the Rolling Stones and/or System’s (not just the infamous Chop Suey) and/or the AC/DC’s of the respective genre.

And consequently, you decide nothing else matters except metalling it up, but for that brief phase that usually occurs during one’s latter half of adolescence, you’re caught in a crazy train, thrown around between styles and solos alike, and end up wondering what happens when The Black Keys meet the White Stripes. This is when you gotta let it be, man.

Lost In Stereo

So where does that leave you, then? Do you take a middle-ground stand, indulging in guilty pleasures like power-pop-Blink-182 style bands that strike a balance between angsty lyrics about daddy issues and just the right tempo to get you grooving to them? Or appall them all with music about them gangstas and they ho’s and some guy called Stan and somehow, being licked akin to a lollipop also fits into that style somewhere.

Or forego the above mainstream choices and go searching for inane music that no-one else could possibly compete with: folk rock like Beck or groovy grooves like Death Cab for Cutie or Swedish metal like Opeth. Until you realize everyone’s turning hipster and suddenly indie band Fun. tops the chart, turning the tables on you, and you’re back to searching for an unpopulated, uncomplicated musical haven, just somewhere you belong.

Nabeela Shaikh

Enamoured by Humbert Humbert and Holden Caulfield. Swears by glitter. And nicotine.

More Stuff By Nabeela Shaikh | Google+ | Facebook |