*Not Well-Written

I thought I had a lot more to say about the show I went to last week, but the cursor's been blinking in this empty field for so long, just blink blink blink and I couldn't come up with anything. There isn't much to say other than I grew up, I stopped listening to Sole, I stopped listening to music that "speaks" to me in a way that I no longer find appealing.

I still love a lot of the things I used to listen to. I used to really love everything associated with Anticon. Why? seems to have progressed in parallel with me by moving from weird whatever to pretty solid but still interesting indie rock territory. If you asked 15-year old me what I'd be listening to as a college senior, I never would've guessed it would largely be the CUTEST POP MUSIC IN THE WORLD--I'm looking at you, Belle and Sebastian. If you also happened to tell 15-year old me that I would go to art school to study writing, I probably would've puked up snot and intestines and laughed and laughed and laughed while wearing my science medals. I digress. What I meant to say is that I still like and listen to a lot of the stuff with the Anticon label slapped on it. Except for, well, Sole. Sole is not something that has aged well with me.



I went to the show partly because I wanted to satiate that younger, idealistic, pimply-er, fatter me who really loved dense music that reaffirmed whatever it was I believed in. Mostly, I went because I said I would as a friend was opening up. The show was good. I had fun. I got bored. I saw things and myself in a different light. However, because that experience touches on things that should be discussed with my BFFs and not a blog not meant for my post-teenage angst*, I think this is where I'll wrap up. At least I saw a cute boy.