It’s taken me a while to decide whether or not to write or even post this… Why? Well… first I had to wrap my head around the level of wrong, then I had to decide whether or not I wanted to admit that I actually know (some) country music. ummm…..
So… shopping for Super Bowl… the local Asian market. It’s freaking H Mart, the last thing you expect to hear is country music blaring from the overheads.
Let me be clear here, I have hearing loss. Rather significant hearing loss. And I’m inclined to just skip the hearing aids when in noisy-ass places like H Mart. But that day I had them in, and now I’m sorry.
I stopped. I listened. I asked my kid: “Is that seriously country?”
She says, “Yep, and don’t remind me. I’m trying to block it out.”
But I couldn’t. Blaring out of the speakers was not just country music, but country music gone wrong(er)! And here’s where I have to admit that I know something about country…
The song was a cover… the original artist was a low baritone… the cover artist was a tenor. Gah!
I am not a fan of country, but as it happens, I grew up hearing some of it. My grandparents liked it. Even my mother, Ms. MoTown herself, liked the occasional country song.
So, now you’re not only making my ears bleed with twang, but you’re also hurting whatever shred of nostalgia I might be holding onto by ruining it with the reedy sounds of a nasally fucking tenor. (FWIW keyword here is “nasally”)
It went on for multiple songs. It was painful.
After shopping, in need of caffeine and a respite from musical hell, we retreated to Starbucks.
Life did not improve.
Not one bit.
Imagine Maranatha praise music performed by a drunken indie rock band and you’re getting close to the level of wrong that was in Starbucks.
What the actual fuck?
Next time, I am taking my hearing aids out and enjoying the relative quiet.