
When I look at my record collection, I think two things. One, where did all the fucking money go? And two, none of those records sound the same. Like, even remotely. And perhaps that’s the beauty in being a lover of music. There’s no one tone or sounds that encompasses your collective emotions. The sum is never greater than its parts. The switch from drums to drum machine, or bass guitar to bass-heavy trap music is what keeps the ears on edge. The constant excitement of getting to hear something your ears have never heard before. Or, more likely, something your ears have heard before, but hell, not like this. That’s the general feeling I had going into Bars this week. The naysayers will say “original music is dead”, but was music ever purely original to begin with? Aren’t we all just kids in our bedrooms strumming, tapping, or singing away to the posters of our favourite artists? When I listened to each of these four tracks, I could draw numerous parallels between them. And yet at the same time I couldn’t. They were so similar yet so different. Perhaps originality isn’t solely in the ingenious sounds we create, but rather our ability to take from the past and shape it into something completely us. These four tracks are not original. These four tracks are authentic.