The Soundtrack to Our Lives: Sure Sounds A Lot Like The Fray...

Let me preface this post by saying this, I by no means am intending to slag on the following bands or their respective fans, this author is merely stating an observational opinion...which is that the following bands can eat a spoonful of my butt. Now let's proceed:

Recently I became a member of that old American institution we call unemployment. I don't like to refer to this time so much as a financial disadvantage as much as an opportunity to broaden my horizons and grab a hold of the reigns of life, pull them taut, and ride the horse of enlightenment into the sunset...but mostly I wore track pants and watched a lot of TV. The only problem with this scenario is that I began to suspect that there was something wrong with my TV. I began to hear music over all of the programming...not just any music, but slow, dreary, soft spoken adult contemporary not-quite-coldplay music, and I began to panic. Was their a radio on in the house? Was I picking up a random signal from the local drama club meeting? Every channel I turned to was inundated with this mess, EVERY SINGLE CHANNEL, I flipped to the playboy channel and to my dismay James Blunt was serenading three naked ladies having a milk fight. Then it hit me, this wasn't just a coincidence...somehow without realizing, our nation was in the midst of a hostile takeover, a coup of d'etat of our senses...and at the forefront of this fascist regime, THE FRAY!



Now I know what you're thinking, "Ryan, I have the The Fray, James Blunt, Sondre Lerche, Snow Patrol, Star Sailor, James Morrison etc. on my iPod and I listen to them when my dreamy boyfriend doctor is going through rough times." Well to that I say NO YOU DON'T, thats Grey's Anatomy, and incidentally the source of where this all went very very wrong.


Now don't get me wrong, I don't hate any of these bands, and I'm not going to sit on my high horse and give you my personal preferences disguised as a superior opinion. I like The Fray, they have some very nice tunes, I liked them back in the day when they first came out and called themselves The Counting Crows. It's not the music these bands and artists make that bother me, its what they represent that has me all in a tizzy wizzy.

Recently my good buddy and BRICKS EXPLODE partner Josh did a little piece (www.bricksexplode.blogspot.com) on how the men of Grey's Anatomy have evoked an unrealistic desire in men because of McDreamy and his uber-sensitive and charming ways. Well my friends, this has leaked into the music world with a reverse effect. In dating you want a sensitive guy, thats a good thing. In Rock N Roll you want a loud in your face showman giving you an experience and taking your panties (not that I wear panties...oh shush they're comfortable...and soooo slidy) Where are these men you ask? They're gone, and they've sold their leather pants, ruffled shirts, drum solos, and kickass licks for a pair of pleated pants and a three hour discussion on 'how your day was.' We can't have this friends, without balls rock does not roll, and without a causeless rebel we have intentional compliance.

So here's what I say you dreamy eyed crooners, enjoy your time in the sun because in the land of television that you have consumed the good guy wins in the end...but this is real life sister and here's how it really goes down:

You sing your songs and the ladies swoon, you're a little different and sensitive and you tend to the ladies every need with your slow delivery and melodramatic lyrics. You may have a good relationship for a few months, maybe even a couple years, but then the ladies start looking the other way. She feels suffocated and is sick of your god damn mix tapes and argyle sweaters. She doesn't want to hear you cry every time she forgets to get off the phone with an 'I love you'. She hates it when you call her schmoopie and frankly men shouldn't be knitting sweaters for cats...and while we're on the subject fuck jazz and Tucker Carlson, she wants to go to a bar, drink a long island iced tea and sing 'Living On A Prayer' at the top of her lungs.

And thats that, you lose, I mean what were you thinking?!? The first principle of music is clearly written in the mofo'n United States Constitution right under the Preamble. It, in its glory and solitude states all that is right with the world:

Jovi Wins...always.

Ryan : Eject