Okay, okay! I'm getting off your lawn, alright?
Look, there are still plenty of people writing and playing the ossified-in-amber music you like, using The Rules to make music that could have been written at any point in the past 500 years.
Funnily enough, there are also plenty of people writing and playing the kinds of music that gives you conniptions. I just got done listening to Ufomammut's Ecate album, which is not only noisy as hell, but also has a healthy dollop of hell-spawned digital devil's audio synthesisation. It's not like anything I've heard before, existing as it does at the intersection of grinding industrial metal, stoner rock, dark ambient electronic music and psychedelia. I'm pretty sure you'll hate it - but then, I'm also pretty sure you'll never actually know, because I'm pretty sure you'll never ever listen to it.
But by the same token, there are people in corduroy with bad hair writing symphonies and quartets and fugues and etudes and other things invented not in this century nor the last, for the enjoyment of people who apparently hate change and/or fear the new.
I know I'm screaming into the void, here, but for goodness' sake, Ashton - stop hanging your ears on the musical pronunciations of long-dead composers. It's like reading Shakespeare and only Shakespeare (or things that are written exactly like Shakespeare) and not even making it as far as Sheridan.
Funnily enough, there are also plenty of people writing and playing the kinds of music that gives you conniptions. I just got done listening to Ufomammut's Ecate album, which is not only noisy as hell, but also has a healthy dollop of hell-spawned digital devil's audio synthesisation. It's not like anything I've heard before, existing as it does at the intersection of grinding industrial metal, stoner rock, dark ambient electronic music and psychedelia. I'm pretty sure you'll hate it - but then, I'm also pretty sure you'll never actually know, because I'm pretty sure you'll never ever listen to it.
But by the same token, there are people in corduroy with bad hair writing symphonies and quartets and fugues and etudes and other things invented not in this century nor the last, for the enjoyment of people who apparently hate change and/or fear the new.
I know I'm screaming into the void, here, but for goodness' sake, Ashton - stop hanging your ears on the musical pronunciations of long-dead composers. It's like reading Shakespeare and only Shakespeare (or things that are written exactly like Shakespeare) and not even making it as far as Sheridan.