Excepting the ponytail, to most people, I probably look like a pretty normal 25-year-old guy. Based on my listening habits of late, however, I’ve unwittingly sublet my musical taste to a teenybopper.
I spent last year exploring the great music of past decades through the Essential Listening Project. But in the last few weeks, a mental switch apparently has flipped, and now modern dance/pop artists like Shakira and Ke$ha occupy playlist space next to The Sex Pistols and The Kinks.
It all started when I gave up fighting the momentum of public sentiment and bought Lady GaGa’s ridiculously popular “The Fame Monster.”
For months, I’d resisted the siren call of GaGa’s music, partly because of her bizarre fashion sense and partly because the radio was shoving “Telephone,” “Just Dance” and “Poker Face” in my ear canals at every opportunity.
I wasn’t avoiding GaGa because her music was distasteful – it actually was stuck in my head most of the time – but because I thought I wasn’t supposed to like it.
If you think about that last statement, you realize how ridiculous it is.
Looking back, I’m astounded at myself on two counts.
First, I’ve always preached that it’s important to divorce a celebrity’s personal life from his or her artistic output.
Who cares if Lady GaGa looks like she’s escaped from a Picasso painting half the time? Her songs are catchy and well-produced, which has nothing to do with her personal life or her abuse of geometric hairdos.
Second, music may appeal more to certain subsets than others, but that doesn’t make it exclusive to that subset.
Look at bluegrass. Long considered the province of yokels, bluegrass has surged into the mainstream to the point that bands like The Travelin’ McCourys are playing with Phish, and Alison Krauss is sharing the stage with Robert Plant.
Good music is good music, regardless of whom it’s marketed to.
So, as long as she pays the rent and doesn’t disturb the Irish curmudgeon next door, the teenybopper can stay as long as she likes.
* Internet catch of the week: “Bulletproof” by La Roux. This redheaded, androgynous, British pop star may not be Lady GaGa, but across the pond, her music – particularly this insanely catchy song – has had clubs on lockdown for two years.