Tuesday, March 27, 2012

guilty pleasures

In theory, there should be none, right? You like what you like because something about that does it for you. But there's a part of me that knows my teenage self would have scowled at my older sold-out-to-the-Man-kind-of self for snagging a copy of Celebrity Skin for a dollar at the thrift store.

I really should hate this album, because it's Courtney Love, who's certifiable to be sure and whose antics and histrionics are as well-documented as Axl Rose, (though unlike my teenage self, I don't think she had Kurt offed anymore), because it's definitely got outside songwriters (a personal pet peeve as a musician, though in fairness, this was when Billy Corgan still knew how to write songs), the lyrics are mostly about California and wanting to be the beautiful people while simultaneously raging against them, AND it's super glossily produced.

Maybe it's the estrogen, the hormones, the perpetual love of most things 90's, or that sometimes I just want some overblown angst and a good hooky guitar-driven pop song to howl along to in the car when the weather's warm.

4 comments:

  1. YOU SELLOUT.

    [insert noted histrionic scream of my 'guilty' pleasure here]

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  2. As far as I know, no one in that band-that-shall-not-be-named accused King Buzzo of murder. I think my guilty pleasure is worse than yours.

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  3. http://ttbook.org/book/sound-rich-sunday

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  4. dmf,
    I got that album from the library awhile back and it was fantastic.

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