For when the writer side of me is broken.
I have an annual ceremony which began in 1985. I celebrate Memorial Day by playing the worst music I own. Songs like “Policeman” by Chicago and “Him” by Rupert Holmes. Somehow, this gives greater weight to the great, the greatest veterans, who fought for this country and especially for my right to listen to garbage. Let there be mash up!
Madonna is the rivulet that merges into the raging river called The Doors. Together they flow downstream into a vast ocean of insignificance. Their molecules mingle to the point where it might as well be the molecules of long forgotten idols like Rudy Vallée or The Fat Boys. Slowly they will lose relevance as new pop stars repeat the process as if none of this had happened before.
The pomposity of Jim Morrison meets the bombastic sonic force of the Ramones. Inchoate doesn’t even begin to describe the experience.