Sometimes in the back of my mind, I think that I will achieve some kind of musical nirvana. That one day I will appreciate good music for music's sake. Some band that I'm supposed to like—Geese, I'm looking at you—will finally make sense to me. I won't put on a '90s playlist again, like I do once every four months when I actually want to get some work done and need the familiarity it provides to give me the background noise that is at once reassuring and not compelling. One day, I think. One day.
Then I listen to an album like this one and I wonder if I'm meant to just like pop and indie music forever and ever for the rest of my life.
Finally, this album made me feel things. Is it because it is good? It's kind of an irrelevant question. It made me want to dance. I can tell you that. I can't say I was the most focused on it as I was listening to it. but I picked out a few cool turns of phrase that I liked. "Richard, we should link later" is an awesome lyric when it comes out of the blue in a song about dicks and being wet and sucking people off in elevators. "I'm actually kinda famous," when repeated over and over, is transfixing. I plan on listening to this album a few more times because I think it will grow on me, like a fine wine.
A $24,000 bottle of wine was stolen from a Virginia restaurant before being returned this week. That's the kind of wine that I would imagine is supposed to change your life because of its quality, because it gives you an experience that only $24,000 can buy.
Slayyyter's music gives me the same kind of experience but at a much cheaper rate. I guess I'm fine with cheaper-rate music, most of the time. I don't need the fancy stuff, just like I don't need (and will never need) a $24,000 bottle of wine. I don't have fancy taste, but I do like to live a comfortable life, at least a life that's comfortable enough for me.
The more I hear about the music world, the more I realize how judgmental it can be. If you're in the music world, well, maybe you just need to dislike other music, kind of like the way comedians are judgmental about the comedy of others. "That's a good joke," they say, with a straight face. You can only like certain kinds of music to be a musician, I think. I'm really happy I'm not in that world. Well, maybe I am a little bit, with my writing at poetry readings. I do think I'm better than most people, if I'm being honest. I think we have to be egotistical about some things, don't we? Writing clearly and emotionally are some of my superpowers. But it hasn't gotten to the point yet where it feels super competitive for me. It just feels like you have to suck up to make it in the world, and I really hate that. Did David Bowie suck up, or did he just not care at all? Who today makes it big without giving up a piece of their soul? Did Slayyyter?
I don't know, but a friend said to me a while ago that we all have a death wish. "That's why we all look at our phones so goddamn much," he said. Our souls die when we look at our phones, and we like it, in a way, because we get closer to getting back to nothingness or to somethingness (depending on what you believe), to our source. "BRITTANY MURPHY." made me think. It's tempting to mourn her fate, and it's also tempting to be terrified by it.
A friend from my community has had a crush on me for years, but I'm not interested in her romantically and we've never dated or hooked up. Maybe I was a little too friendly to her? She doesn't know how to express herself, really. She met my girlfriend this weekend, after I introduced them, and it was a positive interaction. But then I invited her to a meal, and she wrote back that she "doesn't want to be anywhere around me now" without explaining why. But I can guess why. Then I got another call, separately, from another friend who told me that she's been sending bizarre messages, that he's concerned for her safety, that she's in a really bad spot and needs comfort and support. Would I be able to help? I told him that I couldn't because she doesn't want to talk to me, apparently, but that I would help in other ways, recruit others to go visit her. From what I hear, it seems like she's in danger.
I can't help it. I think about Brittany Murphy. I think about Slayyyter. A death wish sometimes feels reassuring. Who are we to tell someone that it isn't? "Life is worth living," they say, and they're largely right.
But I also understand Slayyyter. She reached the top, and she's still thinking about how her face might be too disgusting for an open casket.
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