Every day of the week I sit down and think and scour and look for things of interest to write about. A year ago or so I would summon assistance for topics to cover. Its very difficult to write about emotions which is what music is to me.
As of late, Ive hit a lull. A frantic search for a better high, like a over worked junkie nothing is bringing me the buzz I once found so easily.
Why?
Music has been a force in my life for so long that I cant remember a time I didn’t own a scene.
Well there was a brief time but Ill cover that in a bit.
See the 70s gave us greatness like Bowie and The Monkees and hell even Shaun Cassidy. The sounds of my real youth which were short lived. I couldn’t enjoy the bubblegum with the other girls, I had to go find white chocolate. I considered that my outstanding maturity. G’head with your top 40, I’m over and out.
The early punk scene intrigued me, sucked me in like a vortex and made me shun all around me but it was passionate. It made me think. It made me proud.
When the back of my trench coat was spray painted with the NY HC X. I sported that like a Crypt or Blood. That was my scene.
I was a New York Hardcore girl with giant Mohawk and Doc Martens and if you were there you saw me, if you were there I could be in your mothers scrap book cuz I’d charge the squares $5.00 to take a picture with me then use that cash to hit the shows.. yup. I could be in your photo album circa 1982.
If in those days you strolled Washington Square park you may well have spotted me and my crew smoking cigarettes and hanging around being idiots. But we lived the music we heard and we loved it. Warts and all.
Time flies and you grow up and you always remain true to your roots.
The 90s got lost on me. I forgot music turned my back on music and now that I’m looking back I chose a great decade to skip. A giant glob of sameness with no real redemption.
A decade of fuck you to audible. Missed nearly nothing.
The 2000 well I realized I needed music just to feel alive. So I went backward, fell in love with things I had forgotten like Cat Stevens and Jethro Tull and the comfort food sounds of my youth. They made me safe then guided me comfortably. They sounded amazing. I filtered in bits of old and found Joe Strummer as a Mescalero and was able to appreciate the new Joe and rediscover his old Joe in the Clash.
I celebrated the fallen heroes like Joey Ramone. Welcomed The Ramones and X and The Germs back. “Hey guys. Hows it going?”
So I began weaving this tapestry no roots just threads that wove about never making a sturdy cloth but a rather sifting garment full of just about everything. Its gotten stronger of course bits of dance dashes of screams.
Theres no scene anymore. Kids of today have nothing emblazoned on their jackets. Wheres your scene, ‘scene kid’? At the mall?
The scenest of the Scene girls our very own Mary Magpie has shunned the mall at age 13. Its too commercial, its not promoting music…
Rolling Stone magazine no longer promotes music. Its political television
bla bla bla …….its got no scene.
bla bla bla …….its got no scene.
Is this good? That we all have dashes and blips of what we listen to? Are we more diverse? More well rounded?
Or are we just enormous energy balls of A.D.D.? Unable to focus unable to take sides unable to stand up for a movement we believe in.
Today I couldn’t find anything to write about and I blame music for not making me proud enough to claim it as my own.
Ill take a dash of Underoath with a side of Pitbull and a big heap of ELO.
Then I’ll go puke.
Music sucks. Someone entertain me.