Sick of The Pseudodoors.

It’s been a while since I trolled young people, and settled well into cold winter I have precious few opportunities to chase off cheese-eating cretins who try to make a shortcut out of my yard. Indeed, our university is in winter break, so I can’t even hope to menace the drunken kids who stop by our hedgerow to take a leak.

It is from this perspective that I’m wondering: what the hell is a Lumineer, and why the fuck won’t they stay out of my music player feed? Now, lots of people rip on Millennials for lots of reasons, apt and not, and I don’t want to be that guy stirring up the generational stew. I know plenty of asshats my own age, but I need to know: am I the only one to come to the rather horrifying cultural realization that Generation X is the first demographic in modern history whose children are actually begging us to turn our goddamn music down? My own flesh and blood has, just recently, complained wearily she could hear the Wild Flag jams I was using to shake snow off the roof through her head phones, and it was spoiling her Edward Sharp moment. Sigh.

If I hear one more shoe-gazing, patchy-bearded twinky strumming another acoustic barbiturate ode to something really, really, really poignant I’m going to puke on his shoes.

I get it. These coffeehouse pseudo-troubadoors (Pseudodoors?) feel things nobody has ever felt, and they feel them profoundly, deeply. Really, really, really deeply. But give me a break, man.Those Wes Anderson characters aren’t templates. For the love of the gods, buy a Sonic Youth record and figure it out. You can me miserable, melancholic, even maudlin without being so damnably dull. Watch and learn:

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About JunkChuck

Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.
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4 Responses to Sick of The Pseudodoors.

  1. Steve myers says:

    Remember that one of the main purposes of teen music is to piss of the older generation. They couldn’t get any louder or crazier so I guess they settled for sappy happy crappy. It’s god-awful tripe though.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Tony Derricott says:

    Chuck,

    Aren’t you eclectic enough to keep both on your playlist? 😉

    Tony

    Liked by 1 person

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