Now that I’ve thoroughly eviscerated everything I disliked about the music of 2021, I’m going to get marginally more positive. Here’s a look at the state of alternative music and various observations I made about songs and albums throughout the year and really should have written down as they came.
Allow me to assuage your fears: there will still be an official post counting down this year’s good music, as unlikely as that sounds. I managed to scrape together enough decent music so I wouldn’t have to stop that feature on its 20th anniversary. However the section at the end in which I opine on the state of the now-deceased music industry is going to be folded out into its very own standalone post.
I am here to document the ongoing decline of music in the public sphere, as I have every year- with all my predictions consistently coming true.
Basically, it’s another piece of writing I can point to and say “I was right”.
Here are ten different visions of my life in alternate universes. Spoiler alert, they are all better than the miserable existence I lead now.
I am an entertainment journalist for the city’s largest paper, having just graduated university. With both cinema and rock music flourishing I have no shortage of content to write about.
I am a scavenger in the bone mines. Occasionally I attend The Opera, the retelling of the Great Fall. The ash has become lighter in recent weeks, and the voice from the citadel claims that we may see the sun soon.
There is perhaps no internet user more detestable than the geek.
There is no subset so aggressively uncool, so unrelentingly irritating, as the individuals who clamour for Reddit upvotes both on and offline, who are fluent in sarcasm, whose brains have been irradiated by the pop culture sci-fi they were raised on.
There is no internet user more detestable than the geek.
Days, weeks and months- if there were any age old institutions that fell this year it was these long established divisions of the calendar. The entire world paused halfway through March, and the timeless morass that followed could not be measured in these increments. It fell to each individual to make their own routine demarcations.
I separated 2020 into different walking routes; roughly eight different journeys which I stuck to for varying lengths. Some were brief; some felt like entire years unto themselves. These were those journeys.