People wonder why music journalists are so grumpy all the time. We're accustomed to the idea of post-traumatic stress disorder among those who labor in dangerous professions, soldiers, and so on: well, we pretty much have the exact same job. Except, instead of bullets, we spend our days dodging projectiles of musical excrement. We're out here on the frontlines taking heavy fire, so that you, the good music-stealing citizens of the world, can sleep soundly.
Over the past year writing about music in the Phoenix and at my own blog, Put That Shit on the List (a sort of spite-fueled daily colonoscopy of the Internet), I confronted the musical heart of darkness man to man, and I did not like what I saw. I share the most cringe-worthy results with you herein, because I hate you.
"WOP," J. DASH | I haven't run the numbers on this one, but it's probably safe to assume the quality of a song is indirectly proportional to the number of videos that exist of professional athletes and basic-ass bitches dancing to it for funsies on YouTube, right? Speaking of YouTube, apparently every second of every day someone in the world is clicking "play" on this video — the music equivalent of a cash-stuffed scarecrow husk in a designer baller polo to scare away actual music fans — which would be impressive if you didn't remember that your average person is functionally retarded.
