Let’s face it: We all like good music. And therein lies the problem.
“Good music” is a rather subjective term. What some may deem to be “good music” may just be another persons description of hell. So many who dwell or work in a democratic atmosphere often turn to the great “everybody gets a turn” internet machine known as Pandora.
What!? Blasphemy! you may be shouting at your screen. I realize that I’m talking about something, the anti-human radio, that sets many a DJ’s teeth on edge. Chill out. I’ll get back to that.
Pandora is a fantastic way to learn about genres you happen to be feeling out, especially when doing so somewhat blindly. Or it helps to aleviate that really random hankering for a good, yet perhaps obscure, little ditty. So you turn to your little device and say, “Pandora, I want you to play me some zydec-euro.”
I had a rather insatiable hunger for some Mama Rosin- A Swiss Zydeco band brought into popularity thanks to the great blues rocker Jon Spencer. Here. Check ’em out.
Right? Who wouldn’t have an appetite for this kind of cultural fusion?
So I was on tenterhooks, eagerly awaiting my fix when Pandora….straight up Rick Rolled me.
Dumbfounded, I wanted to smack le computer. “Pandora! Do my bidding! I am the queen of your musical dominion!” I gave the good Rick a thumbs down…only to get Safety Danced. What is this? I felt like Ceasar or Caligula or something of equal or greater tyrannical value as I gave the thumb down to many inadequate ditties. Nearly reaching the point of frustration, Pandora let out and exhausted sigh and a pop-up notified me that I had run out of downward-facing thumbs and that I must just deal with the music. It was pretty much the equivalent of my Pandora box shouting, “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME! I’M TRYING TO MAKE YOU HAPPY AND YOU WON’T JUST SIT BACK AND ENJOY WHAT I’M OFFERING!”
Yup, friends. Pandora had a tantrum whilst trying (and failing) to meet my needs. The monkey with the music box couldn’t make me happy. And I resented Pandora for it.
Skip ahead a few hours, and I get into the car and turn on the ROOT (see? I told’ja I’d get back there). And guess what? Those cats who DJ at the Root don’t really care what I want to listen to. They sit there and play music–good music (in their subjective opinion)–and I like that. They don’t aim to please, they aim to play music in such a wide variety that one can only hump their leg of musical knowledge and hope for a multi-cultural education.
But that’s the beauty of the Root. You get to listen to new and exciting music everyday whether you’re prepared for it or not. It’s way more of a Pandora’s box than the website Pandora.com. You never know what you’re going to get…but it will be an adventure regardless.
Whether you think the music is your kind of good or their kind of good doesn’t really matter. It’s good to someone, somewhere. Thanks, KTRT.