Some of you reading this are teenagers, some of you were teenagers and some will be teenagers. (If you don’t fit any of those three categories, you have some explaining to do.)
I was a teenager many, many… many years ago. Back then, life was good, but it wasn’t perfect. I suffered through occasional bouts of teen (and the rarely-recognized-but-still-noteworthy twenty-something) angst. When I was in a crappy mood, sometimes I’d put Pretty Hate Machine by Nine Inch Nails into my CD player and feel even crappier. In retrospect, it was probably counterproductive, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Now that’s gone. The album was always reliable before, but then I found this song on the Internet: Call Me A Hole. Now if I’m stuck in the midst of some even-more-rarely-recognized-but-still-noteworthy thirty-something angst, I’m stuck hearing Trent Reznor’s lyrics swallowed up, then pooped out with pop music in the background. How the hell am I supposed to feel crappier when I’m tapping my toes to the beat? Man, if I wasn’t enjoying the song, I’d be feeling soooooo much angst right now.
[Note: If you follow the link to the website, the song may not play properly. Refreshing the page should solve the problem.]
