I loved this recent segment from NPR’s All Songs Considered about the bands that contributors have broken up with over the years and why. From the piece:
“Context is everything here, so the three narrowed their picks into four basic categories: bands you swore off entirely and never looked back; bands you simply grew away from with age; bands you no longer follow, but you still remember the good times; and bands you’ll stick by no matter what. Prepare for pride-swallowing tales of joy and pain, smooth jazz and second-wave emo, outrage and, ultimately, redemption.”
I knew I had to steal the idea and so I interviewed some of my music-loving friends and came up with tales of our own musical heartbreak.
1. The bands you’ve broken up with forever.
I’m no longer 14, trying to hang out (and hook-up) with 14-year-old punk rock boys. I no longer have to pretend that I relate to the Sex Pistols, Minor Threat or Black Flag. I do not have to try and pretend that there is anything profound in Johnny Rotten’s sneering antics, nor do I have to pretend that it is awesome that he is continuing his antics in his dotage (although I do have a perverse pleasure in watching him shill butter in England).
But some break-ups don’t last. My friend Randy says: “When my wife was pregnant with our first child, we had just gotten active in the church again. In that phase, and with a new baby coming, I went through my CDs and got rid of everything I wouldn’t want my little girl to hear. The most painful separation was getting rid of my 5 or 6 Ministry CDs. I almost just couldn’t bear it. That break up lasted about 10 years. I’ve now re-bought most of the stuff I had gotten rid of (still working on some of it). My first re-purchase was Ministry’s live album In Case You Didn’t Feel Like Showing Up. It doesn’t move me quite the way it did 15 years ago, but damn that stuff is good. Anyway, I have a new approach to music now with my kids. I still don’t listen to Ministry with them (a bit too heavy), but I don’t shy away from a lot of stuff I did originally.”
2. Illicit affairs.
Jared (my husband) says: “My wife has been making much hay about how she has dumped or is breaking up with punk rock, but I have a dark secret. I have been having affairs…. with other women… I’m not sure she’s ready to hear. I have to admit that since 1989, I have been in love with Lisa Stansfield. She is one of my all-time special lady friends. Back in the day when Soul 2 Soul and Young MC were on the radio, this siren captured my heart and never let me go because she’s been around the world and she can’t find her baby. Something about her short hair with those styled curls on her cheeks and forehead stirred very special feelings in me. But sadly I’ve been having secret affairs with others as well, and not all of them ladies… I have to admit to the reader and myself that I am baffled by my undying love for Erasure. I saw them in 1990 on their Wild tour and came home full of conflicting feelings and many, many questions, none of which I could ask anyone in the small town I grew up in. The anxiety was generated by my earnest efforts to reconcile my very Mormon sensibilities with fabulously gay front man Andy Bell. But you know what, it doesn’t matter, being that fabulous is something I can only aspire to, so haters and Prop 8ers need to just relax and listen to a little Erasure and have a good time. (BTW, I played Erasure at every church dance I DJ’d throughout high school. HA HA. ) One final affair that needs to come to light is my secret love of Electric Light Orchestra. I don’t know why, the heart wants what the heart wants, you can’t pick who you fall in love with, but I really think these guys are awesome and I’m not afraid to say it. Apparently this love for ELO is genetic, my son loves them too, but he won’t have to hide his love, we live more tolerant times. That’s not it. Before I go, I’ve got one more demon to exorcise — Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine. Enough said.”
3. It’s not you, it’s me, the bands you’ve outgrown.
I suppose that all music fans like to believe they have the discernment to avoid being swept up in the zeitgeist of their times. I imagine we are all wrong. I came of age in the early 90s and so I listened to grunge and everything else that was released at the time. I spent hours listening to this stuff, but I haven’t listened to any grunge or Red Hot Chilli Peppers albums since 1997 — no more BloodSugarSexMagik, no Mother’s Milk, no The Uplift Mofo Party Plan (Did I really bother with that one? Yes, I did.) No Live, no Primus, no Badmotorfinger (although I still have a weakness for a shirtless Chris Cornell singing “Outshined,” hair flowing in that dungeon with chains hanging everywhere).
Erin was caught up in a zeitgeist of a different sort, she says: “During the Lilith years, I had a long monogamous relationship with Sarah McLachlan. And then when the 21st century came, we drifted apart. I look at all those rare CDs I collected and the laminated (?!!?) posters and newspaper clippings and ticket stubs … and try to recreate the passion that was once there. No animosity, but wow, that spark sparks no more.”
4. The bands you’re no longer seeing, but you still remember fondly.
I’m not crazy about this category. It makes me feel old and like I’ve sold out some former loves. For example, I love the Beastie Boys, I know every word of Paul’s Boutique, Check Your Head and Ill Communication. I’ve seen them in concert twice — further proof of oldness, one time was at Lollapalooza. I have not felt like listening to them in probably about 10 years, so there it is.
But, as Clay explains, this doesn’t mean we will ever forget the good times: “The Cure, The Smiths,Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, Housemartins/Beautiful South, and the Indigo Girls — these ones are here because at points in my life they completely dominated my catalogue. I had pretty much everything released by all of these bands. I still love hearing all of them at any time, but I’m putting them in this spot because I’m not spinning them in regular rotation anymore.”
5. The bands you’ll stick by no matter what.
Oh, Madonna. Madonna, Madonna, Madonna. Madonna has given me plenty of reasons to abandon her. She has been pretentious, ridiculous, and predictable — I haven’t liked or bought an album since she put out Music in 2000. None of it matters. I have loved her since I was seven and performed “Like a Virgin” in my mismatched Day-Glo socks and my Dad’s old shirt, which my mom helped me splash paint and turn into a dress. She can do lots of wrong and I still love her.
Ben is also still loyal to one of his first loves: “Van Halen is easily the band I have had the most wild romances with over the years. My earliest memory of them is when my sister came home with the Diver Down tape in 1982. I used to steal the tape from her bedroom and listen to it constantly on my walkman. In 1984 we took our relationship to an entirely new level with their release of the album by the same name. I saw the video for “Jump” on early MTV and was mesmerized. They were so cool. That summer my family made our annual drive from Marin County to Springville, Utah and I listened to that tape the entire trip. The salt flats between Wendover and Tooele will forever remind me of “Top Jimmy.” I was madly in love. As if our relationship could not get any hotter, then the “Hot for Teacher” video happened. Greatest.Video.Ever. Hot teachers in bikinis? Yes, please. Then Darth Vadar melted George McFly’s brain with Eddie’s hot lixx. It was so awesome. But it came crashing down in 1985. They fired DLR. They hired Sammy Hagar. Total disaster. I had to break up with them. In middle school and high school my friends thought 5150 and For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge were the greatest. But I knew better. As if our relationship couldn’t get any worse, they taunted me with reuniting. But they hired Gary Cherone instead. Who?
Finally, in 2007 they brought back DLR and toured. My wife and I saw them at the Honda Center. It wasn’t quite the same because they brought EVH’s son Wolfgang along to play bass rather than Michael Anthony. But I took them back and it was delicious. Love really means never having to say you’re sorry.”
Does love really mean never having to say you’re sorry? What artists have you walked away from without looking back? And who will you stay with until the day you die?
I’m really going to date myself here, but Bread, oh my gosh they were soooooo meaningful to me at one time. Back up to my first love of all, the Beatles, I thought I would love forever, and they lasted a really long time. Through several revivals. From early childhood through high school and college, I still loved them. I went through a George phase, then Paul, then finally John. And then it was over. Just over. Very sad.
Another one I look back on and giggle is Seals and Crofts. I even flirted with Bahaiism for a while. I loved its universalist overtones. But they fell out of my heart. Alas, tis true, I have gone here and there, and made myself a motley to the view, gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, made old offenses of affections new.
My son is a musician, and ranges through the ages looking for the best music of all times. He recently reintroduced me to Dylan, whose music I was too young for when it was new. I really like Dylan now, much of what he did. But when I was young I was aware of him but not into him. So that has been a sort of reversal, a rediscovery. I also went through similar stages in the last 10 years of liking Sam Cooke and Aretha Franklin, both of whom I missed when they were new.
The Cure I was surprised didn’t have much staying power. I used to love them so much. I introduced my son to Joni Mitchell, whom he loved, though. Jethro Tull not so much. They sound rather dated now. Yes was a band I was crazy over in the 70s, and when I listen now I still like them. I remember the old times. But my son doesn’t care for them. I guess you had to be there. They Might Be Giants I don’t listen to anymore but I still like to remember the old times.
I really detest classic rock now, though I liked it all when I was young. Led Zeppelin ugh. Pink Floyd, please, no. Van Halen no, no. Sting is just embarrassing, though the Police were so good to me at first. Pretenders were such a favorite. Now they sound terrible. Almost none of the music of my youth has stood the test of time, in fact. I never could stand listening to the same music over and over forever, unless it was Bach or Beethoven maybe. Something that can bear that many listens. I still love Stravinsky, Holst, Rachmaninoff, and Khachaturian. I don’t know if they’ll last or not, but I have hopes.
Tool I’ve loved for a long time now, and Nine Inch Nails. I’ll hate it if I quit liking either of them. I still love Radiohead as well, though they show signs of petering out. System of a Down only lasted a year or two. They’ve faded away now. I’m very much in need of some new bands, in fact. Someone introduce me to some.
I’ll see what I can do. :)
Actually, I’ve been feeling meh about music lately. It feels like I’ve been having a series of short-lived flings, but I haven’t met any bands that truly move me. So, I’m open to suggestion.
I’ve always been fascinated by Tool, but we’ve never hooked-up. System of a Down was good, but it didn’t last for me either.
I’m a huge, but selective Dylan fan. Blood on the Tracks is probably one of my favorite albums of all time. Do you have a favorite?
I got captivated by Dylan’s own version of Mr. Tambourine Man. That’s probably my favorite of his, but I also love many others, like Forever Young, Watchtower, etc. I love how he wrote songs that sounded like they were 500 years old. Many of his songs have this timeless poetic quality that’s so amazing. I’m also really proud of him for coming out so powerfully in favor of the civil rights movement so early. My son and I saw him live last year, but his performance was rather disappointing. He’s 70 and I think it may be time for him to retire from performing. I don’t know. He made some promise to God, I think, that he would tour forever, and that’s rather noble and beautiful. Certainly the place was packed to come hear him, and there was a wonderful mix of old and young people there. But I’d rather listen to his records, I guess, and the oldest ones strike me as being the best. Still there are jewels strewn all across his career. He’s just an amazing songwriter.
I’ll look again at Blood on the Tracks. Tangled up in Blue is great. The others I don’t remember so much, but I’ll give them another listen.
There is something so raw and beautiful about the pathos of those songs. The writing kills me. And, you’re so right — jewels strewn all across his career.
I read this article the other day about Dylan on the Intelligent Life site:
http://moreintelligentlife.com/content/arts/tim-de-lisle/forever-young
I thought I was the only person who loved The Beautiful South/Housemartins.
My sister used to listen to them all the time.. I really like a lot of their stuff too.
A popular band in LDS circles, as far as I remember. I wonder why – ?
My middle school years were dominated by Depeche Mode. Haven’t listened to them in years, but I’m pretty sure I still know all the words and they will always have a very special place in my heart.
I’m with Heidi on Madonna, and have nearly the same memory except I was my 6 year-old self singing “Like a Virgin” at full volume at our ward campout, mortifying my 16 year old sister who clearly understood the meaning of those lyrics much better than I (and their complete inappropriateness for that audience). It’s bizarre the strange hold she has over us! True Blue was the first album I ever bought of my own (on cassette tape).
Most embarrassingly, I went through a Backstreet Boys phase. And yes, I was an adult. And yes, I have no excuse. And yes, I still sing along loudly when they pop up in my iPod (on shuffle, clearly). That same phase of life MIGHT have included a couple of Enrique Iglesias and Spice Girls CDs…
Pearl Jam was a big one for me, like ’93-’96. I think I’ve seen them in concert 3 times. And while I really enjoy some of Eddie Vedder’s later stuff (the soundtrack to Into The Wild is outstanding) I don’t see myself pulling up any of their albums and deliberately listening to one in its entirety.
The one constant that I can’t ever see changing is Tori Amos. I continue to buy every album, including the Christmas one (I hate Christmas music too, a dirty little Scrooge secret of mine, but I truly enjoy this one). I’ve seen her in concert three times. I’ve read (and own) her book. I continue to enjoy her down to my toes, even after 14 years of infatuation.
Jessica, my first cassette tape was Like a Virgin (and, not having any clue what a virgin was, I sang “Like a Version”). Did I go see Pearl Jam with you or am I imagining that? Maybe you went and I’m just remembering?
Your love of Tori Amos is a comforting constant.
Hmm… maybe? I don’t remember for sure – I went with Andy once and my brother once. Maybe I only saw them twice? Then I saw Eddie Vedder at a Ralph Nader event in, 2004 I think. That was a funny little experience, my brother was really into Ralph Nader so he would have probably gone any way. I just went to spy Eddie.
I often think that the bands I loved before are sounds I could never love again, and perhaps that dissociation is important to ‘make space’ for new stuff. But then I listen to them again, and often hear the elements that attracted me to them. Okay, so I can also discern what it is that annoys me, too – the infatuation is gone… but I can still connect to that old version of me that loved nothing more than a bit of:
Oasis
Supergrass
The Beatles
The Fugees
Eels
U2
You’ll always have a place in my heart! (/Sings) ‘With or Withouuuutt Youuuuu…’
I like the idea of making space. I also really, really like the Eels and think they (him, really) are vastly underrated.