Because I’m an idiot, I was struck by the most absurd idea today. The idea was simple: A podcast where every new episode reviews the previous episode.
I’ll let that sink in.
Obviously the first episode would be informative, it’d lay out the premise and how the show would run. Possible angles of analysis and areas of interest. Perhaps even setting out metrics to compare episodes to previous episodes. A treatise would be created that’d outline the hopes and expectations of such an endeavour, like a hypothesis of sorts. After the episode was finished, the true heart of the podcast could be fleshed out. Each week guests would be invited along to aid with the review. They’d highlight things they enjoyed, things they felt could’ve gone better. They’d speculate on the hows and whys of issues that arose and cultural influences that may have caused them to emerge.
At this point you may be asking why. That’s perfectly alright. At first I was too.
Wouldn’t it be fascinating to see how something like this evolved? Each episode would build upon the last like a continually expanding fractal Human Centipede ouroboros of meta. The criticism heaped on one episode would then be dissected in the next, spiralling madly in ever-tightening coils. In-jokes would stack on top of each other like a lasagne of absurdity. Tip-toeing down that rabbit hole would be a sure-fire path to insanity that could only end in glory or a suicide cult. I’m game if you are.
Thing is, I don’t have a podcast (yet. The Air Bud Pawdcast isn’t far off). I do, however, have this site. Because I still have 15 minutes to log in today’s entry, let’s give this concept a whirl. It’s time to review yesterday’s post:
First off, I’m happy with the central notion of the entry’s conceit. Nostalgia’s a big calling card for most people and chances are the bulk of my demographic (aside from my mum that is) held the 2000s as their formative years. You know how most Gen X-ers get a mental hard on whenever you mention The Big Seattle Four or Shirley Manson? Nelly/R-Kelly do the same thing for my generation. It’s also fun when we go off book on this site and find a deviation from the norm (as if anything is really standard around here) as a concept to build around. So the idea of postulating on 2000s music gets a big thumbs up from me.
A caveat has to be given that I was at the mercy of a randomised playlist selection from the interwebs, so I’m giving myself some leeway. However, after more than 1,100 entries, I should be pliable enough to maneuver around obstacles. A few of the song comments didn’t really go anywhere. “Oh, I haven’t heard this person in ages” seems weak sauce when the entire point of the playlist was to listen to tunes from a decade prior. Seems the domain of Captain Obvious. Things fell apart whenever I ran into someone I didn’t know (like the werewolf tangent in Rilo Kiley’s “Silver Lining”) and it doesn’t quite sit well with me. Yeah, I know one of the pillars of this site is stream of consciousness ramblings, but I had a topic laid out on a platter. Google searching bit into my time a little (especially since each track was only about 3’30” (not to be confused with 4’33”)), but I feel like something more organic could’ve bloomed there. Is that a fair criticism? To call out occurrences without offering a viable alternative? Wait, did I just criticise my criticisms on a previous entry in an entry about reviewing previous work? Can you then imagine that ad infinitum and how recursive it’d get? I may not have the flexibility in a physical manner, but in a mental sense I believe that’s called auto-fellatio. Also why did I finish the entry with a Māori farewell when there’d been absolutely no Te Reo prior? That seems “reaching” at best and utterly incongruous.
No pleasing some people, eh? Screw this. I’m off to go listen to Duffy.