This is an excerpt from a book I’ve been writing for the past six months, adding and editing bits here and there. Generally, it’s similar to the stuff you read here, but bigger, fresher, and not on here. I’d like to share with you my current thoughts on “pop” music.
Are we hearing the same shit again, with a different face? Synthetic music is one of the biggest pieces of shit to hit this planet. I don’t think anyone should have the right to use a synthesizer. Ban them like we ban drugs. Let them be available only to the most ignorant masses who are willing to risk their very lives for them. It will give those “corrupt” politicians another revenue stream.
What’s with it all sounding the same? It really does, and all we do is slap a pretty face on it. But it can’t be a face older than twenty. Once a female singer is in her twenties, she either has to do stupid shit to attract attention, or get knocked up. Some would say that’s the same thing, but not me. I think having children is a great thing.
And so we call it pop music. It doesn’t fit any particular taste, like music from the south, the north, far east, or midwest. No, it doesn’t fit anywhere because it’s very name, popular, just claims that it’s what the in thing is. Some great marketer thought that shit up, and I guess it stuck. Of course, they don’t know how to spell, and lobbed off the “-ular” in the word, and just called it pop. Maybe it’s because the sound pops out at you. Or not. I don’t think it does. The only popping I hear is the stupid kid who’s got his radio too loud it’s shaking his fenders, and I can’t understand what he’s playing anyway.
So, then, they keep looking for whatever is popular, and label it as pop music. It can be country, rock ‘n’ roll, reggae, hip-hop, rap, crap, blues from Japan, they don’t care. If it has a pretty face, dress her up like a whore, or him like a douche. It will go platinum in a week! That’s how long it takes for it to make it. Just one week. If it takes longer, it won’t go anywhere, and the kid gets shit-canned.
By then, everyone’s moved on to the next fad. The next pop sensation. The next teen idol. Who are you listening to on your MP3 player? What? Dude, their music sucks. Listen to this, he just had his first concert yesterday. Isn’t that awesome? Yeah, and he’s only fifteen. He’s going places I tell ya, what an inspiration.
Download the album! It’s the same price as the CD, we’ve got to make up the cost for those digital bits somewhere. The artist has to get their royalties. We record execs need to get our fair share for making this kid into a star. Wait, wait, hold on here, we need to take something back. These expense reports are immense. I know you didn’t ask for any of it, but here goes. The models, the venue rental, the cost for ticket sales and printing, advertising, marketing, our cut, your father’s cut, my cousin’s cut, not to mention the cut of the cut that was your cut. You know what, you little punk, you owe us.
And the cycle continues. Out with the older, in with the teenager. That’s how things are made popular. Let’s feed the pedos and the pervs, give them something to watch on stage. We’ll just make sure it’s borderline okay with the FCC. Just a smidge. No foul ups here. We aren’t going to be pulling anyone’s shirt off, not all the way. Just a bit, so the kids can get their hormones in a tickle.
Oh, you’re twenty now? Well, sorry, out the door you go. Spend the rest of your life paying off your debts. You spent six years in the spotlight, and we racked up the bills for your fifteen minutes of fame, and we want the money back. Everything you got, we’re taking it. Yup, try and use your old, tired ass to earn money. But you forgot all about that, didn’t you? You didn’t have time to study, to be a kid, and learn what you needed to learn to be able to earn a legitimate income, right? Well, now go pose for a magazine and see if anyone cares.
Your music is old, it’s gone, and we’re on to the next young girl. She’ll make us millions, dare I say, billions!