Sometimes the way into a girls heart is through her record collection.

Before I get into the topic at hand, I want to mention that this morning I opened my email to the following:

Vindication at last.

Some of you may remember last December I waged a brief campaign to have Joel Plaskett follow me on Twitter after being unceremoniously Twitted and dumped.  It was a spectacular failure of epic proportions, although I do thank all two of you who helped me try to get #comebackjoelplaskett trending.

Delayed gratification is still gratification in my books.

Anyway...

I came across the following article on Jezebel the other day and if I had been drinking any liquids at the time, I guarantee they would have been snarfed all over my computer screen.

Shockingly, Liking Nickelback Will Not Get You Laid

Chalk that down as my FAVORITE HEADLINE EVER.  I know, making fun of Nickelback is pretty cliche by now, but frankly I find it well-deserved for continually making a mockery of our home-grown music industry.

Oh, full Disclosure:  I have owned one album, and seen them in concert.  And it was okay for a while.  Then there was Photograph.  After that... well, I don't want to talk about it.  Let's just say, when the only local rock station  has a playlist of roughly 15 songs, and 8 of them are by Nickelback, and each song is starting to sound more like the one before it except that the lyrics get more douchey and mysogynistic than the one before, well it's enough to make you yearn for the day when they were just mildly annoyingly introspective.

But I'm not here to rag on them.  At least that's not my primary reason for being here.  I got to thinking about how music had affected my relationships.  As someone to whom music is a large part of life, the article made sense.  I could see myself judging someone if they told me Nickelback was, like, their favorite band EVER.

I don't think I have ever actually rejected a guy over music.. although I have judged guys I've dated over their enjoyment of the movie Hard Core Logo.  And their have been guys whose musical tastes have made me like them more.

I'm not sure if I could ever love someone who didn't at least have a passing enjoyment of the Tragically Hip, who couldn't appreciate them on even the smallest level.

I will however, judge you if you like Papa Roach.  True story, this band makes me violently angry.  The ex-hub used to play them and it got to the point where I begged him to NEVER EVER play them while I was within earshot, after one day I ended up in the back bedroom with a pillow over my head while I cried.  I'm still to this day not sure what it is about them that triggers me, but holy shit.  Remember the scene in BioDome where the National Guard came and tried to get Pauly Shore and Stephen Baldwin to come out of the dome by blaring The Safety Dance?  I'd probably react the same way, and just dance my ass off and enjoy the party (because, you know.. if your friends don't dance they're no friends of mine).

Tell me this shit wouldn't set you off as well.

But if I was in a hostage situation and the National Guard (or the RCMP, I guess) came and starting playing Papa Roach, I'd likely surrender, throw myself on their mercy and possibly beg them to shoot me.

I don't like them.

The ex-hub and I had similar tastes but they diverged after a while.  Once, as I was getting into a very mellow folkish phase, he was getting into Korn and the like, this being the late 90's and very early Oughts.  Sometimes when you hear a song you like enough times you will eventually start to hate it.  We all know this.  Thing is, it works the other way as well.  Despite absolutely loathing them (but without the same violent reaction as to Papa Roach) I had eventually heard them enough that I started to hum along to a few tunes.  One day the ex came home and went to put a CD on, and eyed me rather suspiciously as he pulled "Follow the Leader" out of the stereo.  His eyes had widened and he pointed an accusing finger at me and cried "YOU WERE LISTENING TO KORN!!"

I was caught.  I had no recourse but to shrug and grin sheepishly.

Nu-Metal.  Kind of like New Coke.  Look how well that turned out.

In the midst of our split (years later... we didn't split because I started liking Korn), during one of the many "What the hell happened to us?" conversations, he tried claiming that I had 'changed' and that he couldn't even handle the kind of music I listened to anymore.  This from a guy who had started playing in a fucking country band.

*sigh*  Such is life, amirite?

I find nowadays an eclectic taste in music intrigues me.  I dated a guy briefly whose musical tastes played like a game of "One of these things is not like the other."  His favorite artists had included Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Doors, The Rolling Stones and...

Lady Gaga?

"Rly?"  "Ya Rly."

I kid you not.  He even had Pokerface as his ringtone.  For the longest time I associated that song with him.

One of the things that really got me with the most recent ex was upon going to his house for dinner the first time, he went to put on some music and asked if I preferred "Radiohead, Neil Young or Sinatra?"  Now, I'm not a devoted fan of any of these performers, but the sheer juxtaposition of these three seemingly unrelated acts resulted in my heart going aflutter.

Neil Young=Sexytimes.

Although I'm fond of guys with an enthusiasm for music, I'm not sure I would date a serious musician.  Having spent time as a band-wife I can tell you it sucks, especially if you're someone who would rather be on the other side of the footlights.  It ends up being like a really unfunny episode of I Love Lucy.

My jealousy was never had this kind of awesome result.

I could still handle being sang to.  Call me hokey, but especially so if it was this:



I still think this is one of the sweetest songs ever.  Sounding like Brad Roberts isn't even necessary.

Photo Sources:
www.100XR.com
www.graphicshunt.com
unrealityshout.com
yvettecandraw.blogspot.com

Oh, and by the way.  I went and signed up for NaNoWriMo because I'm a masochist like that.  If anyone else is participating, please feel free to be my 'buddy'.