#NerdsUnite: Music ruined by my ex girlfriends
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Aaron ... he's a writer, and goth nerd. For reals, he's got some crazzyyyyy ass stories from some of the peeps he's met online, and is now here to share those crazy ass stories with you all. I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT AARON!!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @aaronflux
Much like, probably every one of you out there, music plays an important role in my life. My mood effects the music I listen to and the music I listen to, thusly, effects my mood. There was a whole year, in fact, that I would begin my day by blasting this fine diddy.
I only stopped because the girlfriend at the time stated it was getting a bit annoying. Yeah...more about her later....
Sure, sometimes I may come off like a music nerd. I pride myself on having a pretty eclectic taste in music. In one sitting, you can probably find me listening to the likes of Rick Ross
and then possibly Waylon Jennings
and then maybe even Martin Denny.
Hell, if music dictates my mood, then I must be one hell of a Manic Depressive motherfucker!
My post last week introduced me to you all as a "Goth Nerd" and I suppose that is still an aspect of my personality (even though I technically was a Rivet Head, but it's cool...). Back in those days, I used to passionately state that I love all kinds of music except Hip Hop and Country. That statement is sad for two reasons, though.
1) I grew up on Hip Hop music. I was a (horrible) break dancer at age 10. I wore my Cross Colours backward and shaved a line in my eyebrow at age 15. And then I turned my back on it for a time...probably because I had once shaved a line through my damn eyebrow!
And 2) because there are some great Hip Hop and Country music gems out there and to close your mind to such things is, in my opinion anyway, limiting. Music is like food. We should try all types. But of course, some food is just disgusting....like oysters....and raisins......and durian (because it's a fruit that smells like devil farts.)
Seriously, a fruit that smells like farts. Why not just put an apple up your ass and call it a party? The apple of my....brown eye? Heh.
Wait...damn...what was I talking about? Ok, sorry I got distracted by farty fruit. Before I completely derail my train of thought here, let's get back to the subject of music. Stay with me here.
This past Sunday, while driving to the hippy granola organic veggie type market (because I date a hippy type and their produce is cheap...and don't judge me...and uh...STEAK!), I was listening to Pandora. Suddenly, a song came on and immediately I had a surprisingly layered reaction to it. First layer was a sort of hateful, violent, arc of the covenant face melting rage directed at my stereo for forcing such sounds to enter my ear holes and rape my brain. The second layer: total appreciation for the sexing my head was getting from the music in question. The artist playing was Florence + The Machine.
"But Aaron, why furious? Florence + The Machine is good stuff!", you're probably saying.
Yes, well fuck you, you're right dammit. It is good stuff. I agree with you wholeheartedly, Poopsy.
But you see, there's something about her music that reminds me of a few ex girlfriends of mine. That redheaded fairy like ethereal but not quite goth music just makes me stabby. My initial reaction is to just punch the neck of the person closest to me. And then stab said neck. First you punch, then you stab. It's a process.
Hell, Florence + The Machine weren't even a group when I was in these past relationships I'm referring to but there's something about her overall style that reminds me of....Dead Can Dance? Delirium? Tori Amos?
Fucking Tori Amos! That's another one. I suppose it's easier for me to hate her music now because she's sort of evolved into one of those older redheaded women you'd either find at a Psychic Eye Bookshop or The Renaissance Pleasure Faire....ah you'd totally find her at both, who am I kidding? I used to absolutely love her music back in the day. And sure, maybe the day it was back in was a time where you may have caught me in vinyl pants and eyeliner, but I digress. I pretty much blame every damn girl I've ever dated for fully ruining every song of hers for ever. Damn her music to eternal hell fire farty fruit damnation!
Damn. I sound like a moron.
But seriously, am I the only one who can't listen to certain music because of an ex ruining them? I know there has to be people out there, possibly reading this, that can no longer listen to certain artists because the mere mention or sound of a familiar note of a song can trigger a PTSD style war flashback. Am I the only one who wants to lob grenades in all directions as soon as an I hear Air? Duran Duran? No Doubt? Uh....Jimmy Buffet? (Seriously)
Thankfully, most of the music ruined for me is stuff I wouldn't normally listen to anyway. In 1996, I dated a girl who was known by the nickname "Sex Dwarf" in the club scene. I, of course, did not know this at the time. To this day, when I hear that song, it reminds me of that girl...who had a 1 year old child....and slept with 7 guys behind my back....and snorted speed....and chose to share the same name with a perfume. But her name was Sarah. And sorry, every girl I've dated named Sarah has been bonkers.
Is it a pre requisite for all Sarahs to be bat shit nutballs? Crazy in the head, crazy in the bed? Just curious.
Then there was the girl I dated briefly in 2000 who loved VNV Nation and was secretly engaged to be married to her roommate. Yeah, I never liked VNV Nation. Sounds like every Pet Shop Boys song set to hard industrial beats.
And I used to love Bjork. I can't tell if it was my recent ex who ruined her music for me or if she just hasn't put out anything worth listening to since the release of Homogenic in 1997.
But it was indeed a sad occasion when I couldn't listen to The Arcade Fire for almost two years because it was THAT band. You know, every relationship has at least one musical artist they share a passion for. Squirrel Nut Zippers played that role in a 1998 relationship for me. Thankfully, I came back to them. And in 2008, The Arcade Fire was THAT band for me. A casualty from a specific relationship that should have never happened and proudly, I ended. Just thinking about how I ended such an emotional train wreck gives me a weird sort of layered boner. First layer: shame. Second layer: jizzy pride. Or something.
Remember that girlfriend I mentioned at the top? This is the one. I'll tell you about this 7 year fiasco sometime. It put me in therapy for a few years. It was a doozy.
Well, whether this is just a ME problem or something I have in common with some of you, at least I can relish the thought that I probably ruined Nine Inch Nails and Tom Waits for at least one of my ex girlfriends. Yeah, that thought leaves me pretty satisfied.