Imagine yourself locked in a vehicle, picked up by a mysterious stranger after hitchhiking alone on a dark country road. You are thankful for the ride, but you know that the crazies are out there… lurking, looking for prey.
The driver is listening to the Beatles on the radio. The Be AT Lles. Blathering on about how much he loves them, the documentary on Netflix, and their defunct commercial musical style that was once more popular than Jesus.
Jesus clearly won that round, though. If you don’t believe me, what year is it? 53AB or 2023AD?
Their simplistic three chord progressions. No art, just noise. Scripted, talentless manufactured sounds akin to trains colliding in a tunnel. Metal, bending and grinding. Breaking. Like the Monkees without a soul or an era defining haircut.
Fabricated formulaic music-ans. Sounds for the masses. Fart into the mic, and we’ll auto tune it in post.
You, the trapped bystander, for obvious reasons of good taste, loathe, aye, verily despise, the ‘yah yah nah’ generation of your idiotic elder siblings, violently and vehemently. Look how they turned out.
Overrated, overproduced talentless hacks, confusing decibels with genius. Where is the polyphony, the complexity, the angst in multi chord? The libretto of inescapable death and the metaphors of global thermonuclear war? Your shit is boring to listen to!
Can we change the playlist? I hate the Bee Tles. They are awful. Completely terrible. Hey, Jude, you’re a turd. I saw you nude, don’t try and fake it; I saw you naked.
Please, for the love of all the gods that ever actually existed, my ears, and music in general, turn right at the lights, and let me bail out. I need to be sick in a violent way. You did this to me!
By the way, Spotify lets you discover great music from THIS century, so there’s no excuse for listening to excrement and filth shat out by your parents and their swinger girlfriends.
Please, find anything better to listen to before rescuing me on the side of the highway during the inevitable liberal apocalypse. I need something to look forward to.
Otherwise, leave me for the zombies to eat my brains. Liberals need brains. Gaahhhr.
—DG.
Inside Doug's Head 