Fuck Seth Cohen

Posted by Carlos Gabriel Ruiz on May 27th, 2008

If youre like me then youre 510, rail thin, ridiculously good looking and your hair is the elixir from which dreams are made. Youre also a pretentious music fan, an aficionado of the underground, the litmus test by which any band who is anyone will be judged and blogged by before their fist single even makes it to a mall to be sold at Sam Goody and purchased by know-nothings who will only buy whatever Rolling Stone, Spin or A.P. advertisers steer them towards. We are the taste makers that serve up our sacrificial lambs to the mainstream so that they can die and be be resurrected in the temple of rock.

You might even watch The O.C., which brings me to my point or rather to the question which I pose herein:

If an Indie band sold out on The O.C. would there be any hipsters left to watch?

More and more every concert I go to is being populated by a litany of teens and preteens. I now find myself having to navigate the narrows of the pit with sinewy, gawky, thirteen year olds who are all elbows, while their parents stand three feet behind me staring at me, silently judging me, while I drink my intoxicants and smoke my Camel lights. This has seriously begun to dampen my joy for the live show, a staple of my pretentious existence.

While I cannot hold this against the young, for we were all once preteen unpretentious music lovers at one time or another before we became schooled in rock, I do hold one man personally responsible. That man is Seth Cohen.

Fuck Seth Cohen!

Seth Cohen has ruined my life! He has taken the one thing in the world that I hold dear and prostituted it for the world to take turns with and discard after their momentary desire is satisfied. He has taken a great many of my favorite Indie bands and served them up for the mainstream masses to suckle upon their teat. And, oh how every band is lining up for their turn to bare their breasts!

Now I am all for spreading the word and getting great music heard, but at the same time music is the one thing, the only thing that I care about. Discovering a band is a very special thing. Getting in on the ground floor, being one of the first people at the concert who knows all the songs, meeting the band after the show and helping spread the word through the underground is an unequaled experience. When a band finally breaks the mainstream you feel some sort of satisfaction in knowing that you did your part to help them along the way; they will always be your own little special band.

Not anymore. Every Thursday Seth Cohen and The O.C. would break my heart each week while serving up another one of my favorite bands to be gorged and devoured by mainstream America, a trend that has been taken up by Grey’s Anatomy, Gossip Girl and a plethora of other shows. I for one am glad that The O.C. was canceled because it serves as proof that there is a higher intelligence out there in the universe.

And each passing week I feel a little bit sadder and a little bit older and a little bit more meaningless.

Thanks, Seth Cohen.

If I could ever meet Seth Cohen this is what I would say, “Go fuck yourself very much. Douche.”

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