My name is Mike
I post music that I like
Sometimes i make mixtapes
Say hi because I'm usually pretty bored sitting at my desk.
if you want to email me you can email@example.com
Skype Me - punkrockmixtape
or snapchat - bloodyorr
Any of the mixtapes I make are for the sole purpose of promoting the bands and music I enjoy. If you are in a band or a record label and a song is on one of the mixes and you are pissed. Email me and I'll get rid of it.
Baby, It’s Cold Outside _ She & Him
No one does it better than Dean Martin but I’m too lazy to search. But seriously it is so cold outside today. I can’t wait to get to Phx.
It makes you think about the life you’ve led,
Shit you’ve done, things you’ve said.
And it’s grounding, grounding.
I’ve been feeling three feet tall this month,
Alternative is still used today to describe what’s also known as the “modern rock” radio format — the epitome of the middle of the road, in other words. But in the ’90s, alternative had a different meaning; it was used to denote rock artists who were perceived to be, at least in spirit, non-mainstream. From the beginning, the term was problematic. Pearl Jam and Metallica were two of the most popular rock bands of the early ’90s, and yet one was considered alternative and the other was not. It was a classification based more on aesthetics and posturing than music — Pearl Jam pledged allegiance to artists, like Ian MacKaye and Mike Watt, who were associated with the underground, while Metallica locked arms with Guns N’ Roses and unabashedly pursued stadium-size stardom. Even if the records didn’t sound all that different, listeners sensed that the bands’ attitudes were rooted in divergent camps, which was enough to make “alternative” a moderately helpful descriptor.
That is, until the summer of ‘97, when alternative was finally rendered meaningless. In June, a middling nu-metal outfit named Sugar Ray released its second record, Floored, which quickly spawned an uncharacteristically poppy single called “Fly” that eventually topped Billboard’s alternative chart for eight weeks. Two weeks after Floored, Smash Mouth released its debut, Fush Yu Mang, which spawned a beach-friendly single, “Walkin’ on the Sun,” that scaled the alternative chart for five weeks. Consider that Third Eye Blind, Matchbox Twenty, and Marcy Playground also put out records around this time that would come to dominate alt-radio,2 and it’s not hard to spot a pattern — this was a generation of bands whose aggressive pursuit of the pop charts made it indistinguishable from whatever “alternative” was supposed to be an alternative to.
I bring this up only because I believe we’re in the midst of a similarly significant phase in the fall of 2013 — only now we’re witnessing the death rattle of the current version of alternative, “indie.”3 In the past month, there’s been a series of releases — including Haim’s Days Are Gone, Chvrches’ The Bones of What You Believe, Lorde’s Pure Heroine, Icona Pop’s This Is … Icona Pop, and the 1975’s self-titled debut — that have been slotted as “indie pop,” ostensibly because they’re positioned outside “regular” pop just as Pearl Jam once was placed outside regular rock music. But the “indie” modifier is instantly extraneous once you’ve actually heard these records — in sound and form, there’s nothing that’s weird, experimental, or potentially off-putting about them. (The same can be said of indie-favored pop records released earlier in the year, including Charli XCX’s True Romance, AlunaGeorge’s Body Music, and Ariana Grande’s Yours Truly.) They’re well produced, catchy, immediately likable, and fashioned in the mold of successful trends.4 They are simply pop pop records.
Indie Rock’s Tuneful Death Rattle by Steven Hyden (via Grantland)
Dustin Kensrue - Please Come Home