I Like What I Like

I’m sitting here, reading a few weeks’ old interview with Jack White (White Stripes, The Raconteurs, The Dead Weather) and I noticed a comment at the bottom – you know, where anonymous trolls go to put in their vital two cents’ worth – that if someone likes Lady GaGa then his/her taste is dead. Really? Uh-oh, folks, I’ve got some bad news for you. My taste is dead.

This reminds me a lot of high school (and to some extent, college), where people were closely defined by the music they liked. I can remember having to pretend that I liked certain bands so my ever-so-goth group of friends would continue to accept me. I can remember having to say I hated certain bands because they were too popular and therefore uncool for anyone worth knowing to like.

So I’m just going to have to put a little truth out there, and to do it, I’ll have to use the words of the boy, “I have both great and terrible taste in music.” It’s true (for both of us.) I’ll tell you a little secret, dear everyone who’s ever been on or will be on the internet ever, so let’s keep this between us, one of the boy’s and my first flirtations was over Teena Marie’s Lovergirl. Can there be a better example of great and terrible taste in music?

So hush up now, inner sixteen-year-old me, and let’s just enjoy the Lady GaGa CD I own, along side my seemingly endless collection of Marc Almond. Let’s not judge ourselves based on our musical tastes, or make up elaborate excuses for liking what we like. (One last aside – I think record producers have gotten so good that in many cases, we physically cannot help ourselves from liking some popular songs.)