And lo it came to pass, in the year of our infernal lord two thousand and fifteen, I was introduced to Maryland’s finest crooners, Clutch.
It has always been put down as “one of those things” that a lot of Weezer’s albums are called Weezer; it has always drawn me in that these albums exist.
For all but the most successful musicians, the life of playing music is a relatively precarious existence, based on keeping a string of jobs in progress.
I most often want a variety of music, as if listening to radio without a presenter.
Nu-Metal was a fashion, but I liked it; it was a fusion of metal and hip-hop, and I grew up listening to it. When prevailing tastes changed, I felt alienated.
Just as the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence there is always something new to wrap my willing ears around and get listening to.
For a while I had thought it was just that I have diverse musical tastes – and I do – but that was just a convenient lie. I realised that, during certain periods of my life, I was buying music for little more than status. I was a shopaholic for CDs.