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The Diary of Jane – Chapter 2: Guilty pleasures

Confession time.

Yes, I like pink donuts with strawberry filling.
I am also absolutely crazy about ice-cream.

Those two I can admit without hesitation.
Maybe not with a lot of pride, but still.

But what about those musical guilty pleasures…?

Those songs or bands that don’t really fit in with the rest. The ones that are just too cheesy, too catchy, too melodic, too much, too happy, too whatever…

The ones that make the brain go a bit bananas, because they mess up the order (Ordnung muss sein!) and bring confusion and contradiction to the table.

But – should they really be called guilty pleasures?
Shouldn’t a good band/a good song be allowed to be JUST THAT, no matter the genre…?

There is really nothing to be ashamed of, even though my brain keeps telling me differently.

Which basically means that I limit myself instead of just freely enjoying ALL music that makes me happy.
Isn’t that kind of stupid?

And still, it is so easy to do.

But, that is like putting away a part of myself… as if I should be ashamed of something that is ME.
So, from now on there will be no more guilty pleasures.

Brain, are you with me?
”Are you sure you want to do this?”

Yes, because this band has a fantastic singer with an amazing voice and a beautiful aura. And there is such awesome musical talent and vibrant kick-ass energy in the band. How can that possibly be a bad thing?
”Ok, fine. But…”

No no no brain, don’t interrupt me, I’m finding my flow here.
”…you know, they have a lot of lyrics that are rhymed, you really really really don’t like that”

True, but…
”It’s catchy, kitschy, cheesy 80s disco power metal that is just simply over the top and partially so sugarcoated it makes your teeth ache”

Yes, also true, but…
”80s DISCO POWER METAL.”

Well, yes.
But it makes me happy. And happy is good.
Actually, happy is way better than good.
Happy is amazing.

So – NO.
There will be no more guilty pleasures.
Brain will keep quiet and there will just be music I love (and also don’t, of course).

Oh – and cheese. I love cheese.

 

Jane Cedenberger

Jane Cedenberger

Writer

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