Sub-division ahoy, bring out your hyphens

The evolution of music via genre re-generation fascinates me. I often find myself slightly aroused when I come across yet another saucy looking Portmantau such as metal-gaze, shoe-core, dark-step or even clown-step. The language is an entire study in itself, I find myself researching sub-genres of sub-genres without meaning to, and even more worryingly, I find myself dropping these labels into everyday conversation with people who have no idea what the foilface I’m going on about.

My current highlights of the sub-genre-naming movement are directly linked to manchesters very own foilface – get a load of these tags, 21st century slacker-rock, psychedelicly-twisted-mexican-seaside-mini-prog. (I would recommend you take a look at some foilface if you can answer “fuck yeah!” to any two or more of the bullet points below).

I recently focused on the majestic genre of post-rock, not post-metal or post-post-hardcore – just good old fashioned post-rock. Now from the reaction I’ve had from most friends outside the music-creation circuit you’d think this genre hadn’t been invented yet, worse still there are people that can’t even seem to remember anything about it hours after a basic explanation – “post-whatyacallit?, is that like pole dancing musics?”

I’m going to start laying down some rules as to how much attention I think the general public should be paying to the rich crusty underside of popular culture. Here’s a couple off the top of my head.

1. All members of society must be able to name TEN recognised musical genres not including – pop, rock, folk, blues, punk and reggae. (There is to be no cheating by scrolling through your iPod)
2. All members of society will only have a chance to listen to, and digest, any one single piece of music up to a maximum of TEN times, after that you will be expected to move on.
3. Christmas songs are abolished – see rule 2
4. Sky Sports are to create an entire industry based on the hunting down of, then the slow and deliberate stabbing of, Simon Cowell through the heart with a pair of rusty barbecue tongs covered in AIDS. (Gillette Super Disembowel-Cowel Sunday)

I’ve just purchased tickets to see yet another live instrumental guitar combo, this time it’s Japan’s Mono. I’ll be at the London show on the 26th of March. It’s the day before my birthday and I’ll be in my instrumental revery, secretly inventing three new sub-genres for each song they play, bliss.