In May, I went to an all-day outdoor concert festival featuring a bunch of popular rock bands. I had only gone to the concert to see the headlining band, but I decided since I paid what I paid for the ticket (which was good for all-day) that, what the hell: I’ll check out the other bands. Who knows–I could be surprised.
Surprised, I was. But not in a good way.
I have an odd personal connection with music. Being an amateur musician myself, I have a deep appreciation for music that obviously takes a lot of musical talent and ability to perform. That explains my love for progressive rock and heavy metal. Lyrically and musically, it contains some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard, and it’s not the kind of thing that any average person could just replicate easily. Say what you will about the band Dream Theater, damn near nobody can play that stuff except for the guys who wrote it.
However, in addition to my connection with what I’d consider, “real music,” I can also develop a superficial appreciation for music that has little actual artistic depth. I am perfectly content playing Rush in my room late at night as I write, just as I am perfectly content blasting Godsmack from my car on the interstate. I believe I have enough personal integrity that I can at least afford a smidgen of banality every once in a while, and take it in for the mindless entertainment it is. Nothing wrong with that, in my opinion.
Lines must be drawn, though, and such a line was drawn when, at this concert, I was treated to an hour-long set by a band named Boys Like Girls. Below is the link to their MySpace Music profile:
Boys Like Girls is, by far and away, the shittiest band my ears have ever had the disdain of hearing. To specify: I didn’t listen to it; I HEARD it. There IS a difference–listening is voluntary; hearing isn’t. I wish on my grave that I could un-hear what I heard, but that is physically impossible.
They are a pop-punk band to the worst degree. Take My Chemical Romance, subtract all of the Queen influence, add a Pac Sun wardrobe, and multiply by autism: there you have Boys Like Girls. Let me give you an idea of how much I hate this band.
I hate Nickelback. I really hate them. I wouldn’t be caught dead with one of their albums in my possession, or even one of their songs on my iPod. That is no exaggeration. I don’t listen to radio anymore because of them. They are the posterchild for everything that is truly wrong with all of modern music, and the fact that they will not go away makes me hate them even more. I wouldn’t even download their music illegally.
But Boys Like Girls? I hate them so much that I WOULD download their music illegally, just so I could listen to it and FUCKING SEETHE WITH ANIMOSITY while it plays. That’s a whole new pantheon of hate. It’s almost musical sadism.
At the concert, I knew they were going to be bad before they even started playing, because at the very beginning of their set, the lead singer came out to center stage and shouted, “HEY, NASHVILLE, ARE Y’ALL READY FOR THIS SHIT?!”
And all I could think was, No. No, we are not. This looks awful. Please spare us from your horrendous abortion of music.
But, nevertheless, they began to play, and as they played, I had an epiphany: the blinding lights, the blistering heat of the pyrotechnics combined with the scorching summer day, the hordes of the damned mortal heathens, the gnarling demonic sounds of death–I realized that if Hell exists, it is a Boys Like Girls concert.
For the love of God, they even tried to orchestrate circle pits. Mosh pits. First of all, a band with a name like Boys Like Girls should NOT be trying to start mosh pits. Slayer, Metallica, Megadeth–those are appropriate mosh pit bands. Dude, Megadeth even has the word “death” in their fucking NAME. There’s even a band called Death Angel. There’s even a band just called DEATH. But a band named Boys Like Girls, quite possibly the most pussified band name I’ve ever heard, dares to organize a circle pit?
You know what, Boys Like Girls? You wanna start a circle pit? Fine. But a word to the concert-goers: if you’re going to start a circle pit at a Boys Like Girls concert, you should form the pit AROUND THE ACTUAL BAND. Teach them a damn lesson, from one metalhead to another, and run up to them and just pummel them right in their pop-punk faces.
To put it another way: when I go to a Metallica concert, the music gives me that vibe like, “Yeah, I wanna KILL somebody!” But when I go to a Boys Like Girls concert, the music gives me that vibe like, “Yeah, I just wanna kill MYSELF.”
Until next time,