We all know that rock is the worst genre of music ever, that's understood. It's juvenile, farcical, inane and has been stagnating steadily for a good forty years. It's starting to smell up the landscape of pop music. That they continue to peddle it is fascinating, but not quite as fascinating as the fact that people keep buying it. They keep buying the biggest scam perpetrated on the American people since Crystal Pepsi or "the slanket".
Don't be the next victim of this snake oil salesman
But, just as Crystal Pepsi has a charming tang, and the slanket makes it easier to write forum topics while staying warm, the rock cloud has a silver lining. It's not all bad, is it? Just mostly bad. So how about instead of letting these con artists get the better of us and wallow in bitterness, we salute the works that rise above the mire. Take your hats off, ladies and gents. For those who are tired of rocking, we salute you!
Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan (1966)
Surely a 70 minute long album of ponderous folk rock by someone, observed by science, as being the worst singer in the world would be terrible, wouldn't it? Apparently not! For all of the metaphors that hit the canvas with the grace of a CBS comedy pilot Mr. Zimmerman really pulls it off, here. The production is smooth, silky and compliments the narratives quite well. It's easy to get lost in the alleys and contours of the elaborate melancholy, but Zimmerman grounds it with a more refined sense of melody than he's ever had.
Tago Mago by CAN (1972)
I'm just kidding. No one actually likes CAN. It's all an elaborate prank to trick college students. This is "the Emperor's new clothes" for the Pitchfork generation. Who cares about genuinely hypnotic grooves, recontextualized in abstraction, or CAN's gorgeous psychedelic jazz textures. Clearly this is all some pretentious farce. Pay it, and its 100 Metacritic score, no mind. Bloody krauts.
Metal Box by Public Image Ltd. (1979)
Unlike rock, however, disco is an actually good genre. It's clever, engaging, colourful and diverse. Something which the punk rockers, aware of the sinking ship they had boarded, cleverly noticed. Nowhere is this embrace of pop's superiority more apparent than with The-Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Rotten's magnum opus. A swirling vortex of disco grooves (courtesy of Jah Wobble) propping up some of the snarkiest, angriest and most embittered punk rock this side of failed simile.
Pretenders by Pretenders (1980)
Part II of punk rock's absorption into the pop family was "new wave"; the glossy, punchy and hip cousin to that square establishment. It was mostly a flop, actually, but for one bright moment its saviour materialised in the form of a female fronted band that didn't suck. Pretenders soap-opera inclinations are made legitimate by some genuinely compelling hooks and elaborate melodies, as well as Chrissie Hynde's nostalgic self-satire. It's a scream, it's basically perfect.
Hex Enduction Hour by The Fall (1982)
Imagine you and your high school band jamming out in the middle of prison riot. Now imagine something much better. Or just listen to this. The power of imagination is overrated.
Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth (1988)
Thurston Moore controls guitar distortion like Karajan conducts the Berlin Philharmonic. He is in such command of his realm that all subsequent attempts to authenticate indie rock with a lo-fi drone has come off as amateurish. If that doesn't sell it, how about that the riffs are really really really good? Still not buying it? It's Pitchfork approved! Act cool to your friends and buy this on vinyl. Don't drop those ray bans.
Loveless by My Bloody Valentine (1991)
I can't do it, guys. I can't make fun of this one. It's so beautiful. It's like looking into the centre of the universe and the rapturous bliss of feeling your atoms being converted into pure energy. Either that or it's like really good weed. Sometimes it's difficult to distinguish. I'm crying and smiling at once, here, guys.
Turn on the Bright Lights by Interpol (2002)
That awkward moment when your whole world comes apart at the seems and you continue on in a waking death, your only companions being a sense of betrayal, and the entire world warps into a perverse farce while you can do nothing about it but sneer pityingly at the mess other people have made. That pleasant moment when the vocals are nice, too.
The Greatest Generation by The Wonder Years (2013)
Your beard must be this thick and lustrous to ride the inadequacy train. The Greatest Generation deals with the war at home... no... not even that. The potential for the war at home. Soul sucking suburbia seems like a nice prospect when you're a complete and utter failure and you can count your funeral attendees on one hand. Need a shoulder to cry on when your life just falls apart? Try something else, these guys are probably more fragile than you.
So those are my picks. I avoided deep cuts because I don't have quite the obnoxious indie cred to pull it off. But maybe you guys can pick up the slack? Come on, don't be shy. It's only rock, I won't tell your family you listen to it.
Don't be the next victim of this snake oil salesman
But, just as Crystal Pepsi has a charming tang, and the slanket makes it easier to write forum topics while staying warm, the rock cloud has a silver lining. It's not all bad, is it? Just mostly bad. So how about instead of letting these con artists get the better of us and wallow in bitterness, we salute the works that rise above the mire. Take your hats off, ladies and gents. For those who are tired of rocking, we salute you!
Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan (1966)
Surely a 70 minute long album of ponderous folk rock by someone, observed by science, as being the worst singer in the world would be terrible, wouldn't it? Apparently not! For all of the metaphors that hit the canvas with the grace of a CBS comedy pilot Mr. Zimmerman really pulls it off, here. The production is smooth, silky and compliments the narratives quite well. It's easy to get lost in the alleys and contours of the elaborate melancholy, but Zimmerman grounds it with a more refined sense of melody than he's ever had.
Tago Mago by CAN (1972)
I'm just kidding. No one actually likes CAN. It's all an elaborate prank to trick college students. This is "the Emperor's new clothes" for the Pitchfork generation. Who cares about genuinely hypnotic grooves, recontextualized in abstraction, or CAN's gorgeous psychedelic jazz textures. Clearly this is all some pretentious farce. Pay it, and its 100 Metacritic score, no mind. Bloody krauts.
Metal Box by Public Image Ltd. (1979)
Unlike rock, however, disco is an actually good genre. It's clever, engaging, colourful and diverse. Something which the punk rockers, aware of the sinking ship they had boarded, cleverly noticed. Nowhere is this embrace of pop's superiority more apparent than with The-Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Rotten's magnum opus. A swirling vortex of disco grooves (courtesy of Jah Wobble) propping up some of the snarkiest, angriest and most embittered punk rock this side of failed simile.
Pretenders by Pretenders (1980)
Part II of punk rock's absorption into the pop family was "new wave"; the glossy, punchy and hip cousin to that square establishment. It was mostly a flop, actually, but for one bright moment its saviour materialised in the form of a female fronted band that didn't suck. Pretenders soap-opera inclinations are made legitimate by some genuinely compelling hooks and elaborate melodies, as well as Chrissie Hynde's nostalgic self-satire. It's a scream, it's basically perfect.
Hex Enduction Hour by The Fall (1982)
Imagine you and your high school band jamming out in the middle of prison riot. Now imagine something much better. Or just listen to this. The power of imagination is overrated.
Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth (1988)
Thurston Moore controls guitar distortion like Karajan conducts the Berlin Philharmonic. He is in such command of his realm that all subsequent attempts to authenticate indie rock with a lo-fi drone has come off as amateurish. If that doesn't sell it, how about that the riffs are really really really good? Still not buying it? It's Pitchfork approved! Act cool to your friends and buy this on vinyl. Don't drop those ray bans.
Loveless by My Bloody Valentine (1991)
I can't do it, guys. I can't make fun of this one. It's so beautiful. It's like looking into the centre of the universe and the rapturous bliss of feeling your atoms being converted into pure energy. Either that or it's like really good weed. Sometimes it's difficult to distinguish. I'm crying and smiling at once, here, guys.
Turn on the Bright Lights by Interpol (2002)
That awkward moment when your whole world comes apart at the seems and you continue on in a waking death, your only companions being a sense of betrayal, and the entire world warps into a perverse farce while you can do nothing about it but sneer pityingly at the mess other people have made. That pleasant moment when the vocals are nice, too.
The Greatest Generation by The Wonder Years (2013)
Your beard must be this thick and lustrous to ride the inadequacy train. The Greatest Generation deals with the war at home... no... not even that. The potential for the war at home. Soul sucking suburbia seems like a nice prospect when you're a complete and utter failure and you can count your funeral attendees on one hand. Need a shoulder to cry on when your life just falls apart? Try something else, these guys are probably more fragile than you.
So those are my picks. I avoided deep cuts because I don't have quite the obnoxious indie cred to pull it off. But maybe you guys can pick up the slack? Come on, don't be shy. It's only rock, I won't tell your family you listen to it.