Back in MY Day: Quantity

Bah! I hate all this quantity! Quantity and quality! In recorded music that is.

Used to be, you grew up with 4 CDs at home and one of them was Harry Connick Jr. 2 were collections of Irish folk songs about the evil hated British! And one was the Beatles. And you listened to them every day on repeat! Because they were all you had.

Bah. To be a kid today has got to be awful. To be an enlightened old man indie-rock know-it-all is awful! Used to be there were like 5 bands a year that I gave a shit about. Everything else sucked, and thank goodness for that, ‘cause music cost money. It used to, it did! It was easy to know what I liked, because it stood out nicely from the vast amount that I didn’t like.

And there was so much not to like! When money is a barrier to recording, then those who can pay to record are either rich or they’re blowing some rich guy. And the rich just don’t get it, do they? Not like you and me. Well, me, anyway.

But everyone can record now, because it’s practically free, so all those kids who previously might have been famous and great but weren’t because they sucked at all those other skills you need to convince rich people to throw money at you, are now globally visible. And there are lots of them. Fucking tons! That kid down the street, you see her? That one there with the really big glasses? (Why? Why such big glasses?) She’s a fucking musical genius! Didn’t know that, did you? Well listen to the 4 albums she made last week while you were watching reruns of Buffy.

Bah. Double bah! It took me 14 years and a lot of talk to achieve nothing as a musici . . . I mean, curmudgeon. I mean curmudgeon.

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