When I
was in grade school, there was one artist that every parent group in America knew
would bring along the fall of western civilization, and his name was Eminem.
It’s easy to understand why, he was loud, crass, and everything he did was
seemingly designed to offend even the most lax definition of good taste. I
still vividly remember my introduction to Eminem, by way of trailer park kids
on the playground, singing his profane lyrics in unison as if they were nursery
rhymes. To this day, I’m positive none of them knew the meaning to any of the
horribly offensive lines they were parroting. Most of them didn’t know their
alphabet, let alone the morbid implications of the pun “We hit the trees harder
than Sonny Bono”. But, they all had parents who let them stay up past midnight,
drink Mountain Dew, and had televisions tuned only to MTV and pro-wrestling. Needless
to say, I was jealous. Unfortunately, my parents were responsible adults with
stable jobs, so that meant only approved recording from the “Bert Gold CD
Collection and Historical Dad-Rock Museum” were tolerated in my household. How dare
my parents attempt to bestow positive messages upon me by way of Bob Marley and
John Lennon. For shame.
So, my parents’ attempts to keep me
from Eminem’s corrupting influence is the only time I can think where someone
has tried to restrict what music I listen to. The reason being, I didn’t start
listening to music religiously until early high school, and by then pretty much
every genre or artist was fair game. Actually, it’s probably for the better
that I was kept away from it, because at a young age I would have hated
Eminem’s incessant potty-mouth, and wouldn’t have gotten any of his frequent
pop-culture references. Now, I can look past the unpleasant vernacular, and
instead appreciate the intricate rhyme schemes and acid-wit that lie beneath
the surface (even if some of the more homophobic lines are incredibly dated and
hard to sit through). I guess the moral of the story is, censoring what
children are exposed to isn’t always a bad thing, because kids have shit taste
anyway.
I don’t think I have a favorite
music genre, because I do my best not to listen to a single type of music too
much. This is to avoid my tastes becoming stagnant, so I purposefully limit
myself on how much of a one artist/song/album/genre I listen too. It sounds a
bit ostentatious when I tell people this, but that’s only because it’s
incredibly ostentatious.
Top Five Favorite Artists/Bands:
1.
Van Morrison
2.
Kanye West
3.
Bob Dylan
4.
Elvis Costello
5.
Gram Parsons
I’d support any
program that would allow students to express themselves creatively, so I would
have no problem encouraging a college radio station. That being said, I don’t
listen to the radio. So although I think the idea would be great, I’m nowhere
near the target audience. Also, I’m not sure how feasible it is to maintain one.
Finding student volunteers and staff to run it might not be too difficult, assuming
there’s enough interest from music majors, but I’m not sure if a campus radio
station would be all that popular, and a loyal following would be necessary to
accumulate the donations required for operating expenses. Direct advertising on
the station for local businesses might raise some money, but it will still be a
very difficult venture. But, assuming these hurdles can be overcome, I have a
few programming ideas that I think would be interesting. One show I think would
be cool is a radio drama. It’s a dying art form of storytelling, and I think a
lot of the theater students, or anybody who wants to try voice acting, would
love the opportunity to perform one. Next, maybe a program focusing on local
artists, at least the few there are in the valley area. It would be neat to
bring some attention to performers close to home, and it might attract the
admiration of local fans. Though, I want to reiterate, I don’t listen to the
radio. So while these hypothetical radio programs are airing, I will be sitting
in front of my computer, doing my best to decipher what the hell is so amazing
about Captain Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica. The life of a snob is a difficult
one, but it’s just what I was born to be.
