A Desperate Cry for Help

[Okay, you younger folks (if you're out there) -- I really need you to give me the proverbial hand. Read on and you'll understand why. -- S.S.]

So. As is not exactly a secret, when I'm not hanging out here, I'm often lurking/posting over at a certain left-wing political blog whose name I won't mention, but whose initials are Eschaton.

I've been a regular there going back to the 'aughts, and in fact, it's where I first encountered the original proprietor of this here blog, NYMary. I've also made several other long-lasting off-line/real world friendships at said location and, if truth be told, it's actually where I met and fell in love with a certain Shady Dame who's been mentioned here from time to time.

In any event, as you can gather, it's been a big part of my life for quite a while, and I owe its head honcho -- nom du blog Atrios -- more than I can put into words.

That said, the aforementioned Atrios is also semi-legendary for his utterly appalling taste in music. It's been a running gag over there for as long as I can remember, starting with the old days when he would put up videos by what I used to refer to as "whey-faced Brit prog-rockers".

Hey -- if you like those kinda bands, god bless, but I had fun taking cheap shots at him and them.

But of late -- starting this year, if memory serves -- he's been foisting clips on us by even whiter bands, and it's beginning to get really creepy.

I mean, all of them sound exactly alike, and when they don't just bore me to scowling fidgets, they actually make me physically ill. To wit.

I'm not kidding -- the above makes me slightly nauseous, which is a reaction I've never had to any music of any kind at any time in my life.

And those guys aren't even the worst. Gimme a minute and I'll find you a more egregious example.

Ah -- here we are.

And here's another one (BTW, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be awarded to any reader/listener who is still hanging in there after enduring those last two clips).

As you can hear, this shit is about as formulaic and twee as can be. Everything has insanely lame drumming (usually beginning with somebody playing with brushes), annoyingly simple arpeggiated guitar licks (sometimes executed on mandolin or uke), cutesy/affectless little girl vocals (sometimes, but not always, nasally harmonized) and pretentious/gobbledeegook lyrics that inevitably recall some sensitive teenager who has underlined verses in a thin volume of poetry and written "how true!" in the margins.

Also, one of the singers usually plays one-finger keyboards with sampled violin sounds or something similar half way through the song. Oh, and there are occasional very serious string, sax and flute players lurking about, and nobody in any of the bands seems to have the slightest interest in acknowledging the audience.

Have I mentioned that on top of everything else, the music is utterly and frighteningly sexless?

In any event, the end product just makes me, in the immortal words of Dorothy Parker about Winnie the Pooh, want to fwow up.

And I mean that literally. Which, as I said, is something that has never previously happened to me when listening to music.

Okay -- to finally get to the point: can somebody out there please -- PUHLEEZE -- tell me what this shit is called?

By which I mean -- what genre? What syle? There's gotta be a name for it, given how many bands are playing it.

In other words: Exactly how the fuck do the youngs -- who I assume are the audience (Atrios notwithstanding) for whatever it is -- describe it to the rest of us suffering mortals?

I await your replies with breathless anticipation.

Thank you.