It has always been something of a moral imperative of mine to own a cool record, tape, and CD collection. When I enter someone's house for the first time, I naturally amble over to the CD rack to figure out what kind of person I am dealing with. It is not so much a judgemental thing. Yeah, I may be somewhat disappointed to find out that you are a Sting person or a Billy Joel person, but I can talk bland singer/songwriters and generate some enthuisiasm for the subject. For example, I can passionately defend my position that Allentown is the only good Billy Joel song, and since 0% of the people who own Billy Joel's Greatest Hits agree with this position, a lively discussion can ensue. The basic fact of my personality is that I have always kind of lived in a self-enclosed intellectual bubble, and am much more comfortable talking about externals -- music, art, politics, books...whatever -- other than talking about myself. Naturally, I am attracted to people who have sort of lived their life on the same plane. For people who have not lived their life in this way, I still try to connect on that level since that is really how I relate to people. In other words, I am comfortable talking to someone about their record collection even if deep down in my heart, I think it is a crummy collection.
I can truthfully say that I never act cooler-than-thou. In college, I was an elitist music type, but that persona actually makes sense in a college context. In the real world, it is an absurd and completely unendearing character trait. Others are much more judgemental and elitist than me. My roomate in college was so upset that his girlfriend's favorite song on Pavements Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain album was "Hit the Plane Down" that he dumped her. The first time my wife met me was at my house accompanied by a friend, and both of them formed a highly negative opinion about me based on the fact that I owned a Keith Richards solo album. My best friend is a totally right brained person and has no concept of why people even listen to music in the first place. To him, it is a completely irrational behavior. We've managed to overcome this potential rift in our relationship by developing other ritual behaviors, other than talking about music. I work in a profession where nobody is cool and a vast majority of the people are Chinese and Indian and could not possibly carry on a conversation about American pop culture. I am accustomed to being around people that I cannot discuss music with at all, so I am grateful when I can connect with someone, even if the connection is tenuous and based on musicians that I dont really even like, but am capable of conversing about.
Anyway, this has all been prologue to my main theme which really has nothing to do with the preceding paragraphs. The question is: what is the least cool band that I am into? I've never had a campy attitude towards music. For example, I really dont enjoy Abba or the Carpenters, nor do I appreciate the type of ironic attitude which embraces such acts. When I go to a music store, 9 times out of 10 I am buying an album that has been vetted by the hipster intelligensia (pitchforkmedia.com, trouser press, maximum rock and roll, spin, whatever) However, there are a few bands which I developed a taste for in my early youth -- when I was literally 4 or 5 and was destroying my dad's record collection -- that still connect with me on some fundamental level 25 years later. Based on the last couple days, I would have to say that my favorite uncool bands are Fleetwood Mac and Hall and Oates.
Yesterday, I went to Newbury Comics and bought the eponymous Fleetwod Mac CD (1975), but I slid it under the new Yo La Tengo CD like I was buying pornography. I was genuinely self-conscious about what the female cashier thought about me, and carefully debated whether I should brazenly put the CD on the top or the bottom when I presented my purchases. Furthermore, while I was at the store, I noticed that there was a new Lindsey Buckingham solo record which I contemplated buying (The guitarist/vocalist for Fleetwood Mac in case you dont know). I then proceeded to go back to work, and listen to the entire Buckingham solo record through headphones using the Rhapsody online music service – a service that I would only seek out for an album I was truly interested in hearing. I also recently borrowed Tusk (1980) from the public library and duped it onto my laptop. Now, it should be said that I only appreciate selected elements of the Mac's canon. I really only care about their output from 1975-1982, and these are some of the bestselling records of all time, so it is not like I am out of the ordinary on this one. Also, I dont generally like the Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie songs, even though Nicks's Gypsy is one of my favorite songs of all time. I just like the somewhat experimental Lindsey Buckingham songs. This guy has written some truly weird songs, and slipped them into these prototypical soft-rock records. Plus, the guy is a really creative guitarist. Even Eddie Van Halen, perhaps the most creative rock guitarist in history, cites Lindsey as an influence, so I dont think I am imagining things.
The other non-cool band that I really enjoy is Hall and Oates. Again, my appreciation has limits. I have never even contemplated buying an album of theirs other than a greatest hits package. In fact, I have only owned one album my entire life. My Dad bought me Heart and Soul when I was like 6 years old, because I did something – I think I might have eaten a brussel sprout or some other such thing. Now I own it on CD, and I have been really grooving on it as I have been doing the dishes during the past week or so. Say It Isnt So, Sara Smile, Rich Girl, Private Eyes... these are unbelievable songs! I love these songs! They have been traditionally dubbed "white soul" which has always struck me as a condescending phrase. It seems to imply that white music is generally "unsoulful" (whatever the hell that means) and that any artist who consciously mines a certain vein of music with some success is doing something unusual and should be rewarded with its own ephitet (if that makes any sense....) I can see where someone might raise an eyebrow at the song Private Eyes, as being an uncool song. It does have that moment where the music stops and all you hear is those 80's sounding fake drumpads, and Daryl Hall singing "Private eyes/they're watching you/they see your every move..." That is kind of a cheesy "white" moment on the surface. Private eyes is a meaningless phrase, and one can picture an audience of uncool, middle-aged white people in an arena setting, clapping their hands over their head to those fake drumpad sounds. But, in my opinion, if you put that mental stereotype aside, the song is genuinely soulful. And those other songs I mentioned are all inherently wonderful and listenable. They are the best songs you are likely to hear when you are sitting in a dentist chair.
