Canadian Radio – Martha and the Muffins

LOOKING FOR DADDY COOL OR, ON THE “MIND” OF THE POP MUSIC FAN

“I hate Martha and The Muffins ‘Echo Beach’ so much, it physically compels me to write this bitch, so people will know, this band and song is torture.” Another Canadian Musician

What is going on here? Why does Another Canadian Musician hate both the band “Martha and the Muffins” as well as their “Echo Beach” so much? It can’t just be ACM’s simple jealousy of another Canadian band. It’s got to be something else. Can philosophy be of any assistance here? Let’s have a look.

The first thing to note is that ACM gives no reasons for his claim that this band and song are “torture” for him. The reason, of course, is that there ARE no reasons on the basis of which preferences – or lack thereof – can be advanced in support of his claim. The reason why no reasons can be given rests on ontological grounds, on the reality of pop music and, by extension, on its fans. But what is that reality?

The reality of pop music is its complete lack of rationality, that in terms of which reasons for liking or not liking a band or song might be deployed. In other words, pop music and the bands that play it are the embodiment of romanticism, of pure emotion. It’s appeal is completely neurological, appealing purely to the reptilian brain. While the lyrics are invariably maudlin – lost love, protest and all the rest – it is really all about primitive beat which is indistinguishable from that of the desert-dwelling Hottentots. So rational analysis is off the table. What’s next?

What’s next is the ersatz debate by delayed adolescents over the perceived “virtues” of one band as opposed to another. The debate is not rational but rather one appealing to the nebulous criterion of being (or not being) “cool”. This empty back-and-forth is carried on by the cognitively challenged, the sort who hold lit candles at live performances to show their support. But support of what? They want to support others who in their turn support them, that that they are cool. But why do they want to do this?

In his book “The Lonely Crowd” the noted sociologist David Riesman claimed that modern society can be roughly divided into “Inner-Directed Man” and “Outer-Directed Man.” (Yes, yes, and women too.) The life of Inner-Directed Man was guided by principles which he had developed and subjected to continuing critique. He was his own master. Other-Directed Man, by contrast, possessed no such inner guiding principles. He functioned only as a reflection of the opinion of others, only in terms of gaining the approval of the crowd. His life, as a consequence, was chaotic, bouncing from pillar to post.

However, his guiding principle if one wants to call it that, was being “cool.” Like Other-Directed Men everywhere, he must appear cool in the eyes of others but being cool, as one might expect, was a nebulous concept. Not only did being cool change with time and place but one was never sure just what the term meant if, indeed, it meant anything at all. He just wasn’t sure. He just didn’t know. He was, as a consequence, very insecure.

Like every other human construct, however debased, being cool had its own hierarchy, its own pecking order. At the top of the heap was “Daddy Cool,” the arbiter of what was, and what was not, cool. Daddy Cool became Daddy Cool not by virtue of any identifiable qualities but rather, in effect, by blowing his mouth off. Nevertheless, to be Daddy Cool was the peak of coolness, that Holy Grail to which all the strutting hipsters aspired.

So, in giving voice to his empty, unsupported claims, Another Canadian Musician thinks he has seized the Holy Grail, that he is the real Daddy Cool.” Of course he is mistaken since being the “real” Daddy Cool is an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms. There is no substance to the concept with the consequence that Another Canadian Musician is just like all the rest of the strutting hipsters, yearning but failing to be cool. He is just another empty tinkling bell.

Of course, in similar fashion, the vast majority of commenters on Bitch fall into the same category. They think that their abbreviated brain farts are cool, but they’re not. They are just brain farts, just like Another Canadian Musician’s.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

CORRECTION!!!

Paragraph 4, Line 9: “that” for “that that”

RSVPS

: T.T. Fonebone (05/27, 10:46AM)

Yes, you may have loved “Eagle Rock” but can you give reasons to support your attraction for the tune or, if not, do you support my hypothesis that the appeal of “Eagle Rock” in particular and popular music generally is a product of their direct connection to your reptilian brain?
Write back soon.

: Ivan Sonofabitch (12:45PM)

I believe that the plural form should be Penis “Coladas” but no irreparable harm done. I was pleased to learn that you agree with my claim that Rupert Holmes behaviour in dining on “long pig” rested on the relevant ontological grounds but I was puzzled by your remark, “I’ll have my Timbits rare.” While I must say that rarely indulge, I had always thought that Timbits were round and not oblong but I stand to be corrected by someone like yourself who, clearly, has intimate knowledge in these matters.

Enjoy your long pig.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

RSVP Klyde: I see Ivan’s reference to “cannibalism” at Bitcher’s Summits as a feeble attempt at distracting you from his real intentions unless, of course, they actually extend to consuming the “long pig.” My advice would be to avoid the washrooms altogether and use some handy, portable device. You might think of trying his pocket.