Why do we love silliness? Why is our music culture full of it? Is this all we’re capable of? How is our irrepressible pleasure in the inane connected with our fascination for the wicked, the inhuman and the animalistic? Is it all just a fantasy of exoneration that we indulge in?
What if stupid music is, in fact, not an awful exception – but rather the only reliable foundation of musical practice and theory? A picture-window view from the ivory tower of bourgeois certainty.