June 4, 2008

"You say I have to get a real life, but I'm not sure how that in making someone or other rich is any more real than making a niche for yourself/ I'm without a zack, a truth, a coin, a kopeck or an elusive brass razoo/ But my dear rationalist, don't dream I couldn't care. I too grow quickly bored of the clothes I wear/ So maybe I should go and get a real life, real like cutting a fine figure or scraping a deposit together for it, heaven forbid.”

Thus read the lyrics to Blueline Medic’s classic Making The Noveau Riche, and currently they represent my quarter life state of mind, in all their timid yet self-assured brilliance. There are few things in this world more overwhelmingly relieving than finding your present state of mind, or even your general perspective on life, articulated within some of your favourite music. I reckon identifying a personal connection like this that binds us permanently to our favourite artists.

The Weakerthans’ simple The Reasons, Larry Arm’s dissection of apathy in Corpses Of Our Motivations (“Catching up on nothing in the basement I call home/ Dismantling discussion on a piss-soaking telephone/ I’m all grown up. I’ve thrown up these feelings before/ You’re sitting in the park while I’m staring at the door”) and Strung Out’s lesson on clarity and optimism in Too Close To See or Bouncing Soul’s New Day OR pretty much any Alkaline Trio circa From Here To Infirmary all mark important moments of soul searching for me.

And it aint exclusive to your broody, poetic muso ramblings either. Fred Durst’s hilariously jaded profanities in Break Stuff mark those angry moments aged 15 when hormones clearly robbed me of any discernable taste (“Feelin’ like a freight train/ First one to complain/ Leaves with a blood stain”). BOOYAH.