I’ve gotten to the point where I really don’t care how old the music or what format it is. If it speaks to me and tells me my story, I like it.
I used to look down my nose at country music. I thought it was too hick for me. Then I tried to listen to it and didn’t like it.
Later on, I found some Dwight Yoakum. It turns out that I really did like country music after all, just not the sugar-flavored pop with a twang that passes for country music these days. Yes, I just showed my age.
I have just about every kind of genre from just about every decade that music has been made. I like it all.
Lately, I find myself gravitating toward the road less traveled, musically speaking. I don’t tend to go for top 40 as much. I like more alt-country and Americana-style music. But not to the point of being hipster. I’m not there yet.
There’s still nothing better to me than the right song at the right moment. It’s almost like the song becomes a part of the soundtrack of your life and the moment becomes etched in your memory.
I like the Grateful Dead, mostly because every time I listen to one of their songs, I think about Uncle Bob and how much he loved the Grateful Dead. It makes me happy. Hopefully he’s up in heaven smiling at my new musical broad-mindedness.
I also tend to avoid music awards shows like the bubonic plague. All they do is reward mediocrity and popularity over actual talent. Generally speaking. And that was my soapbox speech for the evening.
The beauty of music, as well as art, is that there really is no such thing as bad art. Art and music are subjective, and chances are that what turns me off completely may speak to you where you are and you may love it. More power to you.
As Uncle Mikey aka Mike Glenn says, that’s why Baskin Robbins has 39 flavors of ice cream. Not everyone likes Rocky Road. Not every one likes what I like in music. Some actually like Justin Bieber. God bless and keep listening. Just make sure you have your headphones on when you’re around me, please.