Keira-anne.com

I miss records. My Opa had countless classic 45s and my dad had an extensive collection of everything from Cream to the Rolling Stones to Foreigner. Led Zeppelin’s ‘Houses of the Holy’ was often a joke in our house, and my parents would point out that the cover was a “bunch of Keiras” climbing the steps. This was probably due to the fact that my post-bath childhood behaviour included relishing warming my naked butt by our fireplace. Too much information? Perhaps. Moving on…

My parents’ music was my music. My first-ever record was Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born In the U.S.A.’ – complete with an autograph (which, in retrospect, looked suspiciously like my mom’s handwriting). I adored Bryan Adams at the age of 4 and had a full-blown appreciation for U2 by the time ‘The Joshua Tree’ was released in 1987. When I wasn’t plugged into our gigantic stereo with headphones big enough to make my little head wobble, I was spending Saturdays in my aunt’s car listening to tunes of the 1950s on our weekly shopping adventures.

Naturally, like every other red-blooded girl on the planet, I swooned over New Kids On the Block the first time I heard “Hangin’ Tough.” It was about this time that I discovered MuchMusic (now referred to as ‘Much’ by you younger folk). This opened up a whole new world of listening pleasures. The likes of VJs such as Steve Anthony brought Duran Duran, Björk, Pearl Jam, Nirvana and Depeche Mode into my living room on a daily basis. Then were the days that MuchMusic, believe it or not, actually played music videos – sometimes for hours at a time! Shocked?

As my year of high school graduation drew nearer, MuchMusic’s format changed and slowly incorporated more and more television shows into daily scheduling. I often wanted to tear my hair out everytime I heard the theme song to ‘The Monkees’ start up. Soon after, the so-called Nation’s Music Station slashed their name to simply ‘Much,’ and so I changed the channel. 1998 was the last year I watched with any sort of regularity. Remember this logo?

Today, when I listen to the radio, I’ve got the dial set to easy listening. My station of choice these days is Clear FM. In fact, it’s currently playing in my ears as I write. “One Of These Nights” by the Eagles is spinning this afternoon. Being that I haven’t recently watched any sort of music on television, nor have I tuned into any top 40 radio stations, it’s been close to a decade since I was actively discovering new music. In fact, the rare occasions on which I do discover a new artist are purely by accident or by very specific recommendation of friends. Even still, I hesitate.

While I can point to a few acts I’ve discovered since the demise of MuchMusic, such as Rilo Kiley, Hanson and Kanye West, even still most of these artists have been making music for close to a decade (if not more). Yes, it’s been more than 10 years since the first time you heard “MmmBop.” The truth is, I find that today’s new music is supremely disappointing. The craft of songwriting has disappeared in favour of marketing to the masses. Forgive my generalization, but it seems that the majority of those 25 and under most likely don’t even realize that they don’t choose who they like to listen to – radio stations and music executives decide that for them. Don’t believe me?

How many groups are currently putting out records whose band features four or more 20-somethings in skinny jeans, horizontal striped t-shirts and shaggy haircuts that cover one eye? At the very least, they all have one thing in common:

Oh, and let’s not forget The Pussycat Dolls.

Coincidence? Well, I suppose it would be unfair to say that “The…” equals trite tunes. After all, then we’d have to lump in The Beatles, The Who, The Clash, The Cure and The Doors to name a few. And besides, if “The…” was the only prerequisite, I’d have to leave out the contrived likes of Arcade Fire, Hedley, My Chemical Romance or Gym Class Heroes. Who comes up with these ultra hip names anyways?

But I digress.

Perhaps my opinion could be considered a little biased. Were you to play any of these newer artists for me, I most likely couldn’t tell one from the other. Isn’t that saying something? What I loved most about music as a little girl, and what I still love most about music, is that when it’s good, it ignites something inside of me. It triggers a thought, a memory or a feeling. What’s the point in music that doesn’t inspire?

I am well aware of the fact that the majority of those reading have a thing or two to say about a thing or two I’ve said. I’m not an authority on what’s considered good music. After all, my collection of albums contains more than a couple Hanson CDs tucked in between all my Duran Duran discs. I look forward to the day on which I can play LPs for my own children…to pull out an actual record, drop the needle to it and hope that they too drift away between cracks, sizzles and pops.