Messing With Genres

I wish I could remember how I came upon Bitter:Sweet. Maybe I should search older blog archives, because I might have written about this before. “Dear Diary: I have no intention of ever reading any of this again, so you’re not a diary, or even a journal, you’re a blog.” I think that’s how it goes. They call ‘zines about the person who makes them “Perzines.” Does that mean there’s “Perblogs?” Of course. So if this is one, or www.bukkhead.com is one, and if you read this or that and remember reading how I came across Bitter:Sweet, let me know.

Because via Bitter:Sweet I have discovered a whole “genre” of music that I’ve been listening to for a while now. I say “genre” in denigrating quotes like that because I’m not sure what genre it is or even if it’s all one genre. Mostly this is stuff that came in via Pandora, on my Bitter:Sweet station. Now that I think about it, I also have a Wax Tailor station, and a Skeewiff station, and those yield excellent tunes as well, with much overlap. And now that I think about it, I have some guitar-based stations, like flamenco and surf, and there’s overlap there as well, sort of. So maybe that was it.

Anyway, as I was listening to some serious groove last night, or trip hop, or accelerated lounge, or caustic ambient, or spy fusion, or whatever the hell it is, it occurred to me that maybe this is all just drum and bass. So I looked up drum and bass and was told that Pendulum is a drum and bass artist/group/whatever, so I made a station based on that.

And it turns out that what I was listening to before is NOT drum and bass, BUT, there WERE some overlaps, like when the Glitch Mob came on. I am inclined to think that was Pandora’s not adhering to Pendulum’s “genre” but their own taxonomy.

I’m keeping the station, and I may try to find a way to mix some of the stuff from that into the Bitter:Sweet stuff. Like The Yoshida Brothers, who came on this Pendulum station and rocked my socks off (I have a few of their albums already, but not the song that came on last night).

Genres are tricky. I would like to think the same is true with writing. I would like to think that art describes genre, and not the other way around. I would like to think my writing is proof of that.

 I have two other blogs to write on today, so I guess we’ll see.

To the Semi-Cute Barista Who Took My Drink Order Today

Let's establish a few things. This is an apology, and nothing more. I am referring to you as only "semi-cute" because if I call you full-on cute I will come across as a total creep. But I want to acknowledge your cuteness, because I'm pretty sure it's a requirement for your job, and in case corporate reads this, you are doing an excellent job.

"Why mention cuteness at all," the feminists cry. "Why not just say "barista?" Well, feminists, I am a creep, and like I said, I'm trying to establish a few things here.

You see, I had my headphones in when you took my order, the grande soy chai-tea latte. And then you asked me for my name while I was trying to pay with my Android phone app. That app's pretty cool though, isn't it? My wife can go online and, in a glance, see how much money I'm wasting on coffee drinks. She can also see that I ordered soy and not regular milk because she thinks I need to be more healthy. I'm a creep, not an idiot.

You asked me for my name and I thought you said something else and I added, maybe, three seconds to the line before I pulled one bud from my ear. You were very nice about it. Didn't even make a face. Kept things semi-cute the whole time.

But what I want to explain to you is, it was a really good song I was listening too. It was totally calming me down from a harrowing bus ride. Wanna know why it was harrowing? It was a bus ride. I was in the zone with that song, which is why I even managed to get my Android app out and ready in the first place.

Normally you baristas have to tell me how much I owe you and then I fumble for my wallet and then remember my phone and then fumble for that and search for the app and then fumble for the right button to push [insert joke about some famously bad football team here].

So in reality, that song saved us, like a minute. Still, I want to apologize, or more to the point, thank you for letting me have my music and my grande soy chai tea latte too.

Tomorrow my wife's giving me a ride to work, so no bus, no harrowing, and I promise, no music. Unless my wife decides we need to talk about my coffee drink spending. Then I may need you to learn sign language.