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Casey Chalk, Call Your Office!

 In my indelicate way, I may have suggested that listening to “higher” music like opera and “classical” was “snobby.” Well, maybe it is, and please consider me a snob henceforth. I was wrong. And I think it was just a bad day that day.

There’s life before Beethoven’s 5th, and life after. (And Smetana. And Tchaikovsky. And loads else.)

You all know I have an addictive personality, and this addictive personality wants more snobby music. Not tomorrow. Not next week. As I like to say, “Like, yesterday.”

I still love Taylor Swift, at least between 2006-2010. The rest ranges between “Meh” and “Please stop”. And more generally, I don’t trust the taste of people who categorically hate “Country” music. That’s just silly. And Johnny Cash is not country; Johnny Cash is Johnny Cash. The people who say they hate country but love Cash are just hipsters who like Johnny Cash.

Yes, the “bro country” is terrible. And let us explore why. Suppose you’re one of those people who listen only for the lyrics, caring or knowing nothing about the music. You’d have to conclude that we’re a bunch of sex-crazed drunken perverts with no jobs. It actually reminds me of an interview with Katharine Hepburn in 1973. She said that we’d become so focused on personal sexual fulfillment that we can’t tell grand stories anymore. Amen.

[Besides, a sane person you actually know got a piece in The Federalist. Look at the positive.—ed.] Yeah. [Also, you watch PBS and hate Trump. Your connection to the common man is a fiction.—ed.] Can’t argue with that.
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