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@college and music nazis.

college, freshman year. 1990. Cincinnati.

me mates and i created an evening concept
of a 'ghost hunt'. this consisted of driving out
to Oxford in a packed minivan in search of
caffeine, then driving on to a place in that country
area full of old folklore and ghost stories in an
attempt to scare the wits out of ourselves.
we would not return until the sun was well up.

the soundtrack for that and other subsequent
overnight trips to the country was _Spleen and Ideal_
from Dead Can Dance.

much of it was that slow, methodical dirge that made
that evening and subsequent evenings magickal.

were it not for my going to college and devouring all
musical offerings that various friends offered,
i would have missed out on those warm memories
i have of lying on my back in the middle of that
country road, just smelling the thick bark
and mossy air... watching the stars hide and reappear
behind the silent cloud giants... the scarred road
cooling my bare shoulderblades as i lay entranced.
all while the knell of early Dead Can Dance bled out
its solemnity on us.

(i can never explain in what ways i grew during
that year, never express what realizations
and passions poked within me, slicing outward.)


i decided to go to Cincinnati Bible College for one year
before moving on to engineering school...
when i moved in i found only a few kindreds in musickal
taste, my roommate being the least of these. it was all
Butthole Surfers/Ministry/early Pink Floyd/deathmetalmania
-vs.- Billy Joel usually. and that was the first semester...

poor Jayson moved out on me after Christmas break,
he'd had it with my maniacal tastes. by that time i'd
mellowed and grown a bit, and a friend introduced me to
Dead Can Dance (for which i am eternally grateful),
along with various gothic entities - i'd only flirted around
with the whole goth thing before that, but he also
introduced me to the likes of Sisters of Mercy,
Skinny Puppy, the Sisterhood, Bauhaus,
Death in June, etc.

another dear friend of mine introduced me to
Breakfast with Amy and the Dead Milkmen,
along with Minor Threat and other punk. before college,
i'd only enjoyed the Misfits/Dead Kennedys/Lard
flavour.


although, one thing i note is that i've always been
more influential to my friends' tastes than otherwise.
this is mainly because i, ladies and gentlemen,
step out on the rostrum as a perceived music nazi,
stripes, boots and all.

(except in this case, i alone am the Fuhrer.)

(javol!)


i still devour music of many flavours at an amazing rate,
and i am also more picky than ever.
(recalling that i've already made several too many rants
here regarding my disdain for bubble gum... i'll leave that alone.)

so again, i confess... i just may be a music nazi.
i say this bowing in complete humility, of course -
the only reasoning behind my statement of such
is that after looking at my expert range of colour, tone
and image in music it stands that my tastes stand as
obviously superior.


enjoy your afternoon muzak, my less fortunate friends...


reproachably yours,

edouard

NP: Michael Knott - _Screaming Brittle Siren_
(*PETE*!!! i've been listening to this consistently
the past two days. suggestion: next time i come
to GC we stumble to your house, and my-o-my,
don't you have a bass and drumkit there?
just checking.)

"Humor does not include sarcasm, invalid irony,
sardonicism, innuendo, or any other form of cruelty.
When these things are raised to a high point they can
become wit, but unlike the French and the English,
we have not been much good at wit since the days of Benjamin Franklin."
James Thurber
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