The year was 2012. 2013? One of the two. The TV rested on MTV because in my early 20s I was still a creature of habit. Though I had developed a very distinct yet appreciated music preference - Childish Gambino, Vampire Weekend, Janelle Monae, you know, the alternative shit - I'd like to know what was popular just so I could scoff at it. It was easy then. EDM-influence Pop was on the rise. FloRida and Pitbull ruled the airwaves; Ne-Yo and Usher were just beginning to sale out for streams. It felt quality was no longer appreciated by the masses unless it came from a melancholy British lady.
I must have been deep in conversation with a friend, because when a lull occurred I recognized a slightly nasally voice coming from the screen. I turned to see Ke$ha on my screen. My instincts told me to change the channel, but I knew my roommate was fond of her, so I decided to quell my distaste. It was only ten minutes until this particular episode of her self-titled docu-series that she said something so simple yet so profound to me. Kesha tearfully spoke on how people called her trash and not a real artist making real music, but then she said something to the affect of, "I know I'm garbage. I like being trash. I'm just tryna let people have fun and give them something to dance to."
How could I have been so dense as to not realize different music serves different purposes in our lives? Not everyone was Nas or Nina Simone or Simon & Garfunkel. Did I really find a deeper meaning to Juvenile's Back Dat Ass Up or did I just like it as a club banger? Then I, too, could find Your Love is My Drug worthy of at least a two step. It was at that point that I decided I liked Kesha. I decided to welcome a whole cast of pop and dance artists into my life.
I didn't rank albums at the time, but if I were to go back to 2009 and create a top 9 list... honestly I'd have to include LMFAO's Party Rock. I'm sorry, but it does exactly what it sets out to accomplish. So if you ever ask me for an eclectic playlist, and I sandwich Fiona Apple between Cardi B and Ariana Grande, don't act surprised. It's all music; and it's all lovely. ...except the sounds of that 1989 rattlesnake. She can still kick rocks with no shoes on.
Word
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