i started the new year off just right, surprised by the sudden burst of fireworks over prospect park. we were still on our way to get the full view at grand army plaza, colors bursting over the library as we walked. once there, a group of people next to us were counting down to every minute after midnight—over and over again as their friends told them to cut it out. my least favorite part of new years is the actual counting down, i said; we had to move away from them.

back home, i spontaneously began pulling out cds and making a pile. i have decided that i am through with indie pop and now i am carrying that declaration out. oh, there are certain things i have to keep, that i still like (i couldn't really give up belle & sebastian, could i?) or that smack of nostalgia so deep i can't give it up (i may never listen to the softies again, but i can't part with any of it). but i am done holding on to cds i haven't listened to in three years and things i'm embarassed to own now, even if i once enjoyed them a lot. changes are inevitable. my cellphone¹ now greets me with indie pop ist TOT.

it might not even be about "indie pop" specifically. maybe it is moreso a differentiation between well-crafted music and fun-but-definitively-untrained music, even if that distinction is hopelessly wrapped up in personal opinion. when i was in music school, feeling like i didn't fit in with hotshot jazz kids, most of them obsessed with discussing who was a good "player" and who wasn't, it made sense in a way that i turned to simple music "anyone" could play, fighting those designations of "quality" all the way. and maybe singing along out of tune to vocals much higher than my physical range made me feel as if i belonged in that realm somehow. or maybe tastes just change.

in any case, anyone interested in buying bunnygrunt, tullycraft, or dressy bessy cds should get in touch. the farewell to indie pop mixes, vol. I and II, forthcoming.