Musical Ambivalence

Don’t ask me who (or what) Lady Gaga is, because I do not know. I am not a fan of popular music. I’m also not one of those people who must have the radio on at all times. And this might sound like blasphemy, but I do not own an mp3 player.

It’s not that I don’t like music in general. In the car, I will rock out to whatever Classic Rock station is in the area (around here, it’s 99.5 The Mountain, in Lincoln it’s 92.9 The Eagle). And if I happen to hear a song that I like enough (regardless of age or genre), I will occasionally buy an album. I then proceed to listen to the album over and over and over again, until I get tired of it. I am sure this behavior drives my husband crazy, although he’s never gotten annoyed enough to chuck the computer out the window.

Yes, the computer. I don’t have a stereo, and even when I did, I didn’t quite know what to do with it. I remember the Christmas of 1996 or 1997, when my parents handed me a great big box all wrapped up and asked me to guess what it was. I had no idea, so I took a stab in the dark: “Uh... a CD player!” I can remember the bewildered look that passed between the two of them as I started to rip the package open, though I didn’t understand the significance of it at the time. The reason it was such a wild guess was because I never thought my parents would get one for me. They were kind of expensive at the time, and it wasn’t like I had been begging for one (unlike a lot of the kids my age were at the time); in fact, I didn’t particularly want one. “It is a CD player?!” I exclaimed when the wrapping fell away. I’m pretty sure that machine is still around somewhere, splattered with paint from various home improvement ventures, with its tape deck broken and the CD player on the fritz; the radio probably still works, though.

I am not able to enjoy one of my favorite artists properly because of my disinclination for popular music. Weird Al Yankovic stays up to date with popular music, and because of that, I often hear music for the first time in parodied form. Almost all of his albums have a medley of popular music of the day, sped up and done in polka style. Because of my popular music deficiency, the first time that I listen to many of the songs is in these medlies, so when I hear the originals, they sound strange to me. (There is a movement online that is trying to get the NFL to ask Al to perform at the next Superbowl Halftime Show. If you are like me and think that this would be one of the awesomest ideas ever, please sign the petition.)

Because of my tendency to listen to albums over and over, I associate certain things with certain music. The year I got the CD player, I spent holiday break rereading The Chronicles of Narnia. Since my parents had gotten me a Manheim Steamroller CD to go with the new player, I listened to it while I was reading. Since then, when I walk through a mall during the holiday season, I will inevitably think of a scene from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and if I read The Horse and His Boy, electronic Christmas music comes unbidden into my mind. One summer, my brother and I hung out at my apartment playing Baldur’s Gate on the PS2 that I had stolen from him, listening to the Coldplay album Parachutes. I can’t play that game now without turning on that album; it just doesn’t seem right without it playing in the background.

I’m not particularly bothered by my lack of ipod or pitiful knowledge of who the hottest new musical group is. I don’t mind taking recommendations from friends, and I enjoy going to listen to live music (even the Justin Timberlake concert I was dragged to several years ago). It’s just the way I am: I like what I like when I decide to like it. My musical ambivalence suits me just fine.