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I don’t know how anyone at this juncture could mistake this for a music blog. Ok, so perhaps posting a weekly podcast, e-jizzing about Janet Jackson, talking about talking about music and penning the occasional Hip-Hop rant counts? Nah son. It so does not. Let me get to the point where I can be a fan again. The promo emails, the queries for submissions, etcetera are all kind of creepy, spammy, desperate and antithetical to anything I’m passionate about right now. This is a personal site and the focus shifts depending on what spirit I’m feeling at the time. (Technically, it’s FTP space masquerading as a website, but whatevs.) Why would I need a contributor? El oh el.

Editorializing and recommending music is not my arena. I suppose I’ve advanced to “Level 3 Cynicism” (which can be traded with “Ambivalence” depending on the day) in that there are probably about 4 or 5 people that I can engage with on the topic of music and feel like I am being matched. This does not come with the (public) online discourse, least not for me. Case in point, I was discussing this very matter with a music blogger (one of the aforementioned 4 or 5) who has mentioned that writing about music lately is rather like talking to a room full of people that are there to hear what you have to say but then don’t want to listen. As in, you may think you’re ready to go there with me, but you are so clearly ill-equipped to do so.

“Level 1″, by the way, is cautious cynicism wherein someone like myself is at a point of discovery and is still excited and inspired by uncovering gems and presenting them for your enjoyment, but with undertones of “Ha! While you were listening to 106 & Park’s Cultural Ambassador of The Week, you missed this.” ”Level 2″ is Pop Culture Shaming (“Oh you listen to that? What are you, twelve?”). So I’m at “Level 3″, where I’m more prone to ever-so heavily sigh and rub my temple regardless of the subject’s level of mainstream visibility, individuality, talent, or chutzpah. The Kid is drained, bored, and uninspired not only by the music itself (this feeling comes in waves; when something dope drops I’ll shout it from the rooftops) but more or less the dialog that exists right now. There is a circle, a social one and a mental one, that I choose to no longer run in, because I get dizzy. And when I get dizzy I vomit.

I’m not joking.

For anyone that has followed this for the past seven years, you already know when there’s some momentum to my output, the level of engagement increases right around the time I get bored. So this is either par for the course or I might stick to it.

Tags: writing