That Shit, Not Music

While indulging in a little bit of death-metal and hardcore - listening to a wee bit of Dark Tranquility, Opeth and Everytime I Die, my mother yells "What is that shit!?" to which I respond, "It's music Mom."... as she turned a sickly colour of green, she mutters "That's not music".

What was she talking about? It is music! She should be thankful that I'm not into the main-stream pop music, blasting Ashley Simpson and the latest American Idol. In comparison, could one not agree that listening to In Flames, Seether and a variety of "harder" music, be much easier on the ears then those "singers"? Hell, at least none of the artists that I listen to have not been caught lip-syncing! Must I bring up Ashley Simpson's little lip-sync-expose on Saturday Night Live? That's right. I didn't think so.

This got me thinking to all of the music, I'm sorry, shit that my mother listens to. Blasting Bruce Springstein and Rod Stewert... do they not assassinate my sense of hearing? Do they not cause my ears to bleed? Cannot I turn that same sickly-colour of green? I can... that music is not music, that is shit.

Funny how a parent loaths their children's music - despite the genre, and in turn, the child can hate their parent's music with a firey passion... maybe it is something built into genetics - you are never able to enjoy the parent's music, and the parent is unable to enjoy the offspring's music... must be some natural phenomenon...

Until science proves me wrong, I shall continue hating my mother's music - and she will continue hating mine, yelling from across the house "Turn that shit down"; I will just "crank up the volume" and ignore her saying "what the hell, this is music."