from a very young age, and much against the will and patience of their easily-satisfied ears, i have tried to challenge my children’s aural appreciation of the world with equal parts monk, bartok and d’angelo; not just to teach them the varied values of a note but also to gauge what their reaction might be to each and more ways to dispense harmony. presumed as-of-yet uncontaminated by the muddled cacophony of the daily racket that plagues the modern human, my thinking was that they might be, in some way, purer than us in their ability to, perhaps, recognize good as opposed to fashionable music. i always believed that there existed a possibility that children may listen to music as it is meant, as a language, whereas we adults lay on top of our melodious experiences a number of layers, be they of taste, opinion, influence or inherited arbitrary classifications, inevitable when comparing and contrasting the works of joy division with that of ...
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am i missing something? i think i am. this new gaga/beyoncé video should have been the next landis' thriller, or at least scorsese's bad, but turns out just to be ĺkerlund's telephone. the thing is that i am getting the feeling that there is a host of jokes that i'm not getting in this thing which could enhance my enjoyment of the aforementioned madness. is it because i'm 40? is it because i'm fat? i don't know... sure, it's nice to see the *spoiler alert* pussy wagon make a comeback but that just seems lazy. i liked this conversation better when it was held on a videophone...