The turning point of a music website is when they start triumphing certain records to appeal to that audience. Like a magazine writes for an audience, they’re appealing to those who have the sensibilities to have enjoyed the record and agreed with the website. If they agree with the website then they’re likely to follow it. They like things they agree with. They’ll follow what agrees with them. I don’t know how many different ways I can say it. The things they agree with, they will follow.
Underground movements, if you can call such things as such, hm, they are always attracting new recruits. New people are coming along all the time. So many fans look inwards. It’s an in crowd, I suppose why wouldn’t you? But winners see a movement as magnetic. There will always be new people to cater for. Electorate’s preferences perpetually transform with age and new voters can be grasped. So the in crowd can be swayed too as each wave of generation of new members have their effect on their society.
Older years at school often put down the younger years. But it’s these noobies who are up for grabs. To plant an idealogy, a way of how their society runs, and should be run. How they agree that certain music sounds good. Here’s some writing tips. They appreciate similar gauges of discernment. They don’t want to hear how other people like a record. They want to hear how they like the record. Appreciate the same things. Then too, perhaps, open them up to something they hadn’t thought of but still appeals.
That’s the base. That’s the success ratio right there. That’s the golden honey 60 foot up a tree in the forest where it’s taken you 2 hours to climb and tap and get stung for 45 minutes to taste that delicious nectar after having to have had put up with all that bullshit to finally get to the good stuff. People want that, on a plate, infront of them, 24 hours a day if they can get it. The trouble is, it’s not golden.
The crap we wade through is no drinking water. It’s not a slurry pit dive. At least that’s reusable. What we consume, daily, nigh hourly, nigh minutely is disposable and not reusable. It’s gone the moment you have finished consuming it. It won’t remain with you. Your memories of that time will disappear quickly. It wouldn’t be a blur because you wouldn’t consider it off hand. So does it matter if it’s shit?
Quality, diverse information enrichens ideas and perception of the world. We are able to understand bigger and more complex ideas when we are confronted with them regularly. Why do you think we learn so much in education? We are confronted with new ideas every single day. More people than ever are reading every single day, thanks to the internet, but is it causing the upper ceiling of media to lower so it can involve everyone?
How to attract those who do not read, or first readers, look at the growing numbers of English speakers around the world, they can spout views too. What is it that appeals to the most number of people, and guess what there are lots of people who are below the national average grades. These people may not be vital contributors to society, but they are popular culture because they’re the ones paying to attention to the most passive and easily accesible mediums because they aren’t that motivated, skilled, educated, to press further, to dig deeper, and not exert pressure on themselves because hell, life screwed them over. Born in the wrong place they could say.
But ballooning up the belt size, becoming Mr. LCD, slays integrity. Personal integrity. People don’t give a fuck. They’re impressed you’re a winner. You’re making the money via hard work. Good work! It may not sit right, seeing publications shift in the market place swiveling away from where it got its cred. Like leaving the hood. It can be painful, but they got that money to tend to. They may lose credibility, yet to the unitiated they’re right and I agree with them! Lets see what else they have to say….
So this is Mastodon’s sixth record, Once More ‘Round the Sun, dropped 2014, so spanking new. A rock and roller that doesn’t resemble anything like what they used be like. Sure, the Led Zep riffs are still there, the little chugging present reminisces rather than provokes. It’s not as pretty as The Hunter, and certainly not as elegant and sophisticated as Crack the Sky. The previous three clinches are mere blurs to this record, and frankly it’s surprising not many publications have picked up on the emotional wailing on this record. So timid in their lyrics. Nothing daring. Nothing exploratory. No rhyme nor reason. Rubbish. Boys, if you’re going to be a cleanly sung band listeners are going to understand what you’re saying. It owes to the mediocrity of this record in that Mastodon are frequently caught talking nonsense. Boring, repetitive lyricists suffer the punishment every bad conversationalist faces. First we ignore you, then we exclude you.