On the musical genius of Arch Enemy, Arvo Pärt and Ke$ha

I have a confession to make. I have low-brow taste in entertainment, particularly music. Yes, I may have almost 10 years of classical music training and performance under my belt, but in the past 24 hours, my musical listening has included the Pokémon theme, The Final Countdown, Ke$ha, Christian pop, and Night of Fire (look it up). And I enjoyed it all.

Now, I don't think I know anyone who won't have snorted derisively over at least one of those items, possibly all of them. “I thought she had better taste than that!”, people will say (unless they've had the misfortune of living with me, in which case they will probably have witnessed first-hand my Justin Bieber/Spice Girls/Bollywood listening sprees (you know who you are)). “I know she listens to Handel/Metallica/Arvo Pärt/Nightwish (tick appropriate), how can she like (insert whichever musical item you found most offensive)?”

My question is this. Why is listening to Ke$ha (to take an example) such a musical crime? So her vocals are so auto-tuned it's basically a robot, her melodies as original as a cheese sandwich, her lyrics so void of depth they could probably be called a hill. I still enjoy most of her music, I just don't enjoy it for its depth or originality. I have other music for that. Ke$ha's stuff is bouncy, fun, and mindless – you can just dance around to it without the melody's intricacies grabbing you, or the lyrics' depth blowing you away. It has base and rhythm and a melody you can learn and sing along with in 4.6 seconds max. Sometimes, that's just what you want – and Handel, with his musical intricacies and rich baroque listening experience, just doesn't have that. People get enjoyment out of listening to a Bach cantata, just the same as people (er, probably other people) get enjoyment out of slamming to Arch Enemy. And if you're looking for the qualities of enjoyment you'd expect from Arch Enemy, ol' J.S. is probably going to fail to deliver for you.

What it's really about is the very nature of music. I think a lot of people hold the view that music should be as intricate, as deep, as moving, as thought-provoking, as possible. The more of those qualities – the better. I'm going to just go there and say it: I disagree. Don't get me wrong, there's a place for “high-brow” music, the intricate stuff, be it classical or metal, that only the most talented musicians can perform – that you just have to sit still and drink in as you listen to it for the hundredth time, because every listening reveals some new complexity. But what I'm saying is that I don't think that kind of music is intrinsically “better” than the latest auto-tuned Justin Bieber hit. It's just different – very, very different. I don't think people who prefer Tinie Tempah to Vivaldi somehow have a “lesser” taste in music – they're just looking for very, very different experiences in music. There's also a time and place for music that you can scream along to, for music that you can dance to, for music that you can learn quickly and easily and anyone can sing.

Music, as an art form, can give so much more than just what one person happens to want from it; it can fill so many voids, be so many different things to so many different people. Saying “this kind of musical experience is the best kind, music that delivers this experience is better than music that does not” is attempting to place limits on the incredible potential of music.

I'm proud to listen to music that is called low-brow, music that is called repetitive, music that is called noise, because to allow myself to enjoy all those different sorts of music, without being afraid of people with “better” taste in music judging me, is to experience all the incredibly different aspects of music. Ke$ha, I don't think very many people say this – but listening to you makes my musical world a richer place.