The radio has always been a part of my life. I remember being in the car as a kid and making my mom turn up the volume when the Spice Girls or Britney Spears came on.
My girlfriends and I got ready for school dances to the tune of Jay Sean’s “Down” or Pitbull’s “I Know You Want Me”. Even now, when I hear the opening lines of “Party Rock” by LMFAO, I think of frat parties and the beginnings of independence that marked my freshman year of college.
I know people always say, “Oh, music these days sucks”, but for me, it’s a way of staying connected. Top 40 radio is a marker of what’s popular in society and an indicator of our collective state of being.
I never thought the day would come when I’d throw in the towel in favor of blasting music on my iPhone instead of tuning to a radio station. Recently though, I bought myself an auxiliary cable for my car so I could bypass the radio and listen to something more complex and innovative.
I finally got fed up. Everything I’ve heard recently is bland. Inoffensive. Insubstantial. I hate turning on the radio and hearing samples of good songs clumsily smashed in between a techno beat and unoriginal rap verses about partying and getting women.
Pitbull, I’m looking at you.
I believe that pop music and Top 40 radio is integral to our culture, but the people behind it—the artists, the producers, the distributors—need some tough love. I cannot be the only person who never wants to hear another horrible Pitbull remix again. Am I right?