somewhere in me i have a music snob. i think she has on skinny jeans and several layers of thin tanktops and vintage concert tshirts, with those checked vans slip ons on her feet. her nails are painted black. she hates you if you don’t know who the kooks or the shins or modest mouse are. she grew up listening to weezer, red hot chili peppers, nirvana, foo fighters, pearl jam, sublime, no doubt when they were actually ska, and silverchair pre ana.
and then there’s the me that is pretty sure she’s lovestoned by jt’s new songs. and feels stronger listening to kanye. who unabashedly made cds containing britney spears and the blackeyed peas and their humps, likes to feel fergalicious, and to say ay bay bay.
i sound like a music schizophrenic when i drive home at night. within three minutes i’m listening to top 20 pop junk and the shins’ new single. and for some reason i like them all. i can’t commit to heavy eyeliner and a general air of oppression, the apparent necessities for loving alternative music. but at the same time there is NO WAY i will listen to pop & rap all the time. i guess each has its own place in my life, and that music snob in there will just have to deal with the non uber cool stuff.