Mickey Loves Emo

From time to time, I'm reminded that I'm getting old. I'm not saying that I am old, I'm saying that I'm getting old. At the deliciously seasoned age of 26, I've realized that popular music is no longer designed to appeal to me. This week's Billboard Top 10 singles chart reveals that I've heard only 8 of the most popular songs at this very second, and I haven't even heard them in their entirety.

I can't listen to contemporary radio anymore (yeah, I went to broadcasting school, so?) without feeling like I want to claw my eardrums right out of my head. It should be an equation. The more brain cells one has = the likelier one is to be averse to multiple utterances of "yo." It's not just the songs, either. It's the people promoting them and the people liking them and everything else about the sickeningly superficial industry of getting people to buy more stuff as opposed to inspiring people to create it.

I'm no snob; I can still rock out to 80's hair metal like nobody's business. Really. I have the perfect length of hair. But from age 13 on, it was apparent to me that the lyrics weren't supposed to be taken seriously. No one should look to "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" as poetry. It would be fine if everyone else followed suit, but business isn't about being truthful about anything. It's about money and, sadly, groups like the Jonas Brothers are who make it.

Who the fuck are the Jonas Brothers?

If you'd have asked me two weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to give much of an answer besides "um, some brothers?" Now, though, largely thanks to watching E! on hungover Sunday afternoons, I can tell you that the Jonas Brothers are - well, obviously - brothers who play music. They must have cruelly driven parents, too, considering one is clearly positioned to be "the cute one" while the other two sport jewfros and confused facial expressions. The Jonas Brothers tour with Miley Cyrus and and appear on the Disney Channel. Oh, and the cover of Rolling Stone.

Goddammit.

I only scanned the article, but it's titled "God! Girls! Guitars!" and that's lame enough for me. The music wasn't any better when cracked out dudes with mascara were trashing hotel rooms, but no one took those guys seriously. And that was awesome. If you're from Jersey and want to prance around onstage in leather pants before banging a groupie with track marks who lets you borrow her hairspray, rock the fuck on.

But if you're from Jersey and want to start a band with your brothers to croon about holding hands and whatever else you care about when you're neutered and 16, don't expect me to take you seriously. Or better yet, just go to Britain. Those limeys have been eating up shitty music for as long as they've had bad teeth.

Which is forever.

I know this could incite the comment spat that the Hanson brothers once inspired, but stadium rock just aint cute in a cardigan, kids.