whiny white boys with guitars

I got up early this morning (which is not a thing I do on Saturdays) to walk for the homeless. I'm home now, and I just want to crawl back into my comfy bed, but that Dr. Pepper I drank to get me through the walk won't let me sleep. So I'm a little cranky. Just a forewarning.

So there's this retro thing going on in music which I'm really enjoying. Whether it's the whole mood of Outkast's "Hey Ya," or the call-and-response thing at the end of Justin Timberlake's "Senorita," or the horn section that comes in on the chorus of Beyonce's "Crazy in Love," or the four-note keyboard riff in Maroon 5's "Harder to Breathe" (which I swear they copied from that Billy Joel song, "Sometimes a Fantasy"), I'm liking it all.

BUT, there's also this whole neo-James Taylor, sensitive white singer-songwriter thing happening that is getting on my nerves. Whether it's John Mayer (who I actually like occasionally) or Howie Day, or even Jason Mraz, I'm like "Stop! We've done this before. There's no need to do it again." For all that James Taylor is a guilty pleasure of mine (yes, I own his greatest hits CD, and I've been known to sing along to "Sweet Baby James" and dance to "Mexico"), I just don't think that genre needs to be revisited.

OK, I'm gonna give the magical comforter another try.