Greetings Rock 'N' Rollers, and welcome to Our Culture of Music, a place where we'll take a glance at the weird and wonderful musical issues that greet us in the 21st century. I'm Jag Jones, and I'll be your guide when exploring what it takes to compile the perfect MP3 play list, why commercial music stores can scare the crap out of you, as well as more serious topics like how a great song or a great album can totally dictate how your day is going to be. To give you an indication as to where I'm coming from, let me just say that my CD collection is so large, that my banana box sized bedroom is morphing magically into a shoebox, complete with wonderful discoveries like every album Ryan Adams has ever made, to those Limp Bizkit albums I bought when I was 16 and almost 9 years after the fact, can't pay anyone to take it out off my hands and off my cramped CD racks. Aside from that unfortunate glitch in my collection, I take pride in having albums that mean something. Whether they're deemed legendary by critics/music aficionados or by quality-hungry fans, I love to own albums of substance — they can make you dance, make you sad, make you think, or make you pump your fist with the passion that Joe Strummer demonstrated for years. Most importantly, I find it a privilege to be a rock 'n' roll journalist. Yes, I whine and moan about the stupidity that is Britney Spears, and the perpetual pissing match known as hip hop, but I genuinely love music and telling the stories of those involved within it. Of course I've had to encounter "artists" that I don't care for, for the sake of getting published, but I have also encountered those who have been trend-setters and trailblazers for where music is today. However, this isn't a place to provide my resumé highlights, so I'm going to shut up now and get into my inaugural Jamilton blog — How to cope with a Musical Snob. It's a quick subject to tackle, but a good one nonetheless. First of all, this may be an ironic topic to cover considering that I get paid at times to judge bands/artists a certain way, but I think whether you're in the media or just a fan, there is a difference between being a complimentary broadcaster of great music, to one who has opinions that alienates everyone from miles around. I'm sure I've been called a musical snob behind my back once and awhile, but that was probably something said by some frickin' Nickelback listener — someone who obviously isn't a music fan. Moving on ... Basically, a music snob is someone who takes their choices in musicians so seriously, that they fail to acknowledge anyone else's opinion about them — if they do, it is usually a profanity laced rant that's part insults, part condescending music history lessons. To put this into layman's terms, these kind of people are the ones that know smoking is bad for them, but find some sort of rationale that they can use to excuse themselves from the habit, while trying to get you to light up with them. When it comes to handling individuals such as these, you have to remember that you're likely not going to sway them from whatever their stances may be. So, if you can't beat them, join them. There's nothing these hipsters hate more than having a debate with someone just like them. If they're sitting around trying to convince you that Broken Social Scene is one of the greatest things to happen to Canadian music, the best approach to take is to tell them that you actually think Platinum Blonde or The Parachute Club are two of Canada's most influential collectives, because it'll likely annoy this person so much, that you may actually make your way out of that conversation unscathed. The key though is to debate those bands with as much passion and vigor as the BSS fan would about his indie rock heroes. Think about it — a music snob is more likely to snap at the idea of you debating for bands that don't have great significance to the culture, because they just won't be able to compute such brain coagulating notions such as the one mentioned above. If this doesn't work, steal their white belts, break their thick framed glasses and diss their collection of limited edition 7 inches — see how tough they are then. Til next week
Lou,
What email do I send Breau and Lloyd pix to?
Double Hell has gone to hell.
Steve
Posted by: Steven Frank | May 14, 2007 at 12:55 PM