What boils my egg

There is nothing comparable in this world to the feeling I get when I put on my headphones and drown myself to the tunes of the ‘90s.

Reminiscing to bands such as the Wallflowers, Stone Temple Pilots and The Flaming Lips is just one way to forget the stresses of the world and simply relax. Yet there is always that one group of people who feel the need to criticize my alternative rock taste via condescending tones…

You know what really boils my egg?

Indie kids. These elitists have become a nuisance with their obscure taste in music, overt attempts of non-conformity and their excess of loathing toward mainstream media. Who died and made them musical geniuses?!

 For those of you who don’t know, an indie kid is a person who listens to unsigned independent rock bands, wears plain hoodies and clothing (or things that include the name of aforementioned band) and holds contempt for any band within mainstream music.

The main annoyance of the indie kid is the elitist approach to music. A friend of mine back home (who has turned into an indie kid) was poking fun at my love for ‘90s rock music. He claimed my taste was generic and lacked eclecticism. He claims his love for indie rock is an enhancement of his “artistic integrity.” I must have forgotten that artistic integrity includes the right to completely patronize another person’s choice of art.

Where I will listen to the Foo Fighters, Nirvana and the Goo Goo Dolls (popular rock bands of the ‘90s), he will listen to Jukebox the Ghost, Two Door Cinema Club and Surfjan Stevens. Is there a problem with any of these bands? Absolutely not. They are all musically talented in their own ways. The problem is the contemptuous people who listen to them.

The worst is when they use their taste for uncommon bands as a form of secret language in a conversation. It intentionally excludes anyone else who is not familiar in that genre. At least with mainstream music, there are any number of popular musicians whom most people have heard of and can discuss. But their goal is not inclusion. I cannot dislike them for wanting to be individuals, but I can dislike their lack of acceptance of others’ tastes.

Consider this egg: boiled.