The “never needing to hear a song ever again” syndrome is true in almost every radio format…for oldies locally, it was “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” for the longest time. For adult contemporary it’s “Don’t You Forget About Me.” Trust me, I gotta LONG list of songs burned permanently into my head that I’ll never need to hear again.
My pet peeve is the one-beat-later echo on a vocal, probably initially made popular by Pink Floyd in “Comfortably Numb.” It seems like everybody has to use it at least once, even the Foo Fighters (“Learn To Fly”). That gimmick played itself out a long time ago for me.
And count me in as another someone who hates digital pitch correction. It makes it sound like every vocalist sings through his/her nose.
Mobile phone ringtones are irritating, especially when it is not actually being made by a mobile phone, but instead forms part of a track playing on the radio, DO NOT INCLUDE THEM IN YOUR SONGS!
The same goes for police/fire/ambulance sirens, they don’t add anything except to have me frantically check my mirrors for blue lights when I hear the sound of them.
No glam or hair metal metal should ever be allowed to do a love ballad. Your voices are for screaming at fast tempos, not for emoting sap in slow time. By the same token, backing the love ballad up with an orchestra doesn’t make it any better. You can’t polish a turd.
If somebody wrote your drum track on a computer, it’s not rock. If you sang your tracks over the telephone and somebody recorded it and dubbed it on a studio track, it’s not music.
It’s spelled Led Zeppelin. Four E’s, two P’s, two L’s, one D, one Z. It’s the name of an airship, too, so you can Google it and get the right spelling, or maybe look on the album covers. If you can’t spell it, just call them “Zep”. Do not rely on your pirated MP3s to have the band name spelled right. Speaking of which, it’s The Grateful Dead, as in “when you spell it Greatful it grates on my nerves.” And they did not sing or play “Stuck in the Middle With You.” Oh, and while I’m being a total asshole, a quick memo to Avril Lavigne: it’s pronounced DAY-vid BOH-wee.
You, mister sensitive pony-tail singer that’s standing in the pouring rain. Get the hell back inside. You are not John Cusack and you’re not impressing your lost love by getting all soggy and smelling like wet dog.
While we’re talking about U2 and counting, what the heck is the joke in counting off the tempo as “Uno, dos, tres, catorce?”
U2 sounds a lot better to me after Bono learned to sing without dropping an anvil on his foot before each song. And cbawlmer? Go bite yourself, if you’re so tasty. I don’t need your permission to talk about Bono and “Mr. Reverb” Edge.
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