Pop music baffles me. It’s overly simplistic, it requires little to no talent, most pop singers don’t truly do a thing, and it all sounds the same. These are the artists selling out arena’s and topping the charts. I realize that not everyone is capable of multiple talentsi.e. writing the music, playing an instrument, having a band, constructing decent songs and I realize it’s really hard to do choreographed songs if you possess any of the aforementioned talent. All of this I understand. Hell, if I had the chance to do essentially nothing and get rich and famous off of it, I would. Wouldn’t you?

None of this is what bothers me. The world needs simplistic music to keep the equilibrium going. All of this I understand. My problem, however, lies with the fact that “music” doesn’t sell the music. Pop music is a product conceived and controlled by some man in an office. The only way he sees music selling is by selling the female body.

Sex sells. So, why not glamorize it, throw on some lip syncing, a dance or two, and call it music. Watching music videos is very similar to watching soft core porn. It’s not men who are objectifying these women, it’s the women objectifying themselves. For example, in Leighton Meester’s video for, “Somebody To Love Me.” She is wearing a sparkly cut out top with her boobs falling out, dancing around a limo touching herself. In the next scene, she’s grinding and thrusting as if she’s having sex with a man in an invisibility cloak. This relates to music how?

Sex is awesome and embracing your sexuality is even better, but the new generation of music is a far cry from embracing ones sexuality. Real girls don’t look, dress, and (hopefully) don’t act like these celebrities. But how are young impressionable girls supposed to know the difference? How are young boys supposed to understand that women aren’t objects, when women are the objectifiers?

Singers these days are new wave porn stars and no one seems to mind. If the music doesn’t sell itself and requires a gimmick or naked body, than what’s the point? Skip the music, the dancing, and just sell the goddamn sex. At least then no one is being misled and the target audience is “regulated”.

If pop stars don’t respect themselves or their craft than why should the audience? When did music turn into an overly sexual joke and when and who will save it? Somebody’s got to, right?

My entire life is mapped out and plagued from memories tied to certain bands and particular records. There are few moments in my young life that I can’t identify (or label) with records or bands. Which is why, no matter how much artist changes, good or bad, usually bad, I cannot stop being a fan.

I’ve tried. Really, I have. There are some bands who continuously get worse, yet I still listen because well, I loved it once. I’m not like most people. I don’t just listen to music, I have passionate love affairs with my record collection. Weird? Maybe a little, but I’m kind of obsessive.

As I grow older, the music I loved in all the different phases of growing up, still sounds wonderful to me. Even when I know better. An old record is like an old photograph. It tells a million little stories that no one other than myself and those from the past can hear (or see).

Taking Back Sunday’s Tell All Your Friends got me through a fair portion of high school and yet, as I listened to it the other evening, I realized how generic the lyrics were, how simple the actual music was, how hilarious my young self must have been to identify with this. Yet”¦I still sang along and it felt right. I remember the long dark drives on country roads, feeling lost, feeling as if I belonged, the general feeling of feeling.

I’m much older now, but the memories and time frame attached to this record are poignant. Taking Back Sunday has evolved and released three records since this one, and I’ve bought and loved two of them. If asked my top favorite records TAYF would most definitely make that list. But not because it’s particularly great, but just because of the memories.

This happens often. I have personal debates. Is this record actually any good? Could I love it if it were just released today? What are these memories with out the soundtrack?

I cannot fully answer any of these questions, but I’m fairly certain, that bands like Thursday, Taking Back Sunday, Spice Girls, Senses Fail, Brand New, and From Autumn to Ashes, could never have worked in another time. These bands aren’t meant to be classics, these bands were meant for the here and the now and that’s why it worked.

The music is good in its own right, but my personal experiences and childlike fondness morphs these bands into so much more. They will always be a part of me like they’ll always be a part of music history. And who can argue with that?