| Yes yes, sure sure: a lot of you are
probably getting pretty disillusioned right about now, thinking that
we’re going to embark upon a long orgy of adulatory words about
James Taylor. Well, we’re not. While we do wish all you James
Taylor-haters would just get off your God-damned high horses and groove
along with Sweet Baby James for a mellow autumn or two until you felt
his mojo seep gently into your greater consciousness, we know what
we’re up against. Old prejudices die hard, and you’re not
going to come around to James Taylor. So we keep our mouths shut about
it. The thing that we can’t and won’t pipe down about, though,
is this critical need for newness: it’s as if Ezra Pound and
his “make it new” mantra mesmerized the corpus criticalis
and rendered it incapable of enjoying anything that didn’t stick
out like a sore thumb. Well: screw Ezra Pound. Something need not
be novel to kick total ass. All’s it has to do is, y’know,
like, line all its targets up and then totally kick ass. Every hesher
worth his salt knows this, and we are all heshers under the skin.
Without further delay, please let me recommend to you a bunch of eighteen-year-olds
from Poland. |
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