I’m on this late-seventies/early eighties guitar/pop/rock kick today. The list is extensive.Donnie Iris, Golden Earring, Greg Kihn, Tommy Tutone, The Kings, The Romantics, and Dave Edmonds et al.
We live in a world where we judge not by the content but by the shell. I recently found myself in this, judging by the social look instead of the beautiful intent. Not bothering to listen to the words or the meaning, sticking my nose up at the idea of something nor my style. Forgetting myself, forgetting you can have meaning as well as a trendy beat. You can be passionate about something without having to give up on you even if it isnt exactly societies expectation. We too often get stuck in our preconceived idea of what passion is meant to look like. It isn’t always that indie soulful band singing their hearts out to a small crowd. Or the young woman in the back of the coffee shop typing furiously at her keyboard about equality. It can look like perky trendsetters pondering on our reality over a bubbly beat. We talk about breaking the molds everyday, only to ironically create more molds on who is allowed to break those molds.
