The problem with love and romance is that it is so very hard to tell when someone is truly special. Everyone could probably recall at least one burning passion that lit up a few nights, but grew cooler over time, as we discover that what we thought was love, was little more than lust. Things cool down as quickly as they got hot and that person, who should never have been anything other than a fling, gets chucked.
This also happens with music. If you take an honest look at your record collection, you will be sure to come across a few acts that you fell head over heels in love with, raved about to all and sundry, before realising that they were not really what you were looking for. Once you get passed the shiny beats or the spiky guitars, they become a bit repetitive, or have little to say lyrically; in short, like the hot airhead or the intelligent munter, they are just not ticking enough boxes.
Entire genres can be like this too. Like disco. Its re-emergence a couple of years ago was exciting and the right record played at the right time was enough to sex up even the dullest of nights. However, the allure has proven too much for the public at large and it is D-I-S-C-O every which way you turn your ears. That is not to say that the genre is a washout, far from it, but what was a glittering affair should have remained that. Stretching those moments of guilty pleasure over whole nights is stretching them thin.
Despite this, or perhaps in spite of this we keep on searching for that special someone or something that lasts, that is not only all the things we want, but has the capacity to surprise and excite time and time again.
Like Joakim (and the Disco).
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Good post min.
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