02/19/25
Keep Making “Bad” Music
Bad music is everywhere. We have all heard it before. But do not start nodding in agreement just yet.
No, no, no. Bad music is not the experimental noise band that samples tires screeching into a ten-minute-long song. It is not the death metal band with demonic distorted vocals. It is not the contemporary jazz piece where the dissonant, frantic sax solo seems never-ending. Bad music is not "bad" music.
Take Primus, a prog rock and funk metal band that defies genres. If you shuffle their album “Sailing the Seas of Cheese”, your forehead might crinkle. Their entire ethos is built around the idea that "Primus sucks." This ironic self-deprecation actually masks an absurd level of technical skill and artistry, which, when stripped of its deliberately off-putting aesthetic, weird melodies, and silly lyrics, reveals musicianship that is anything but bad. The complex and fast groove on the slap bass, the unpredictable song structures, and the insane drum patterns that people attempt to learn but can never quite master all prove that Primus has built a name for themselves by leaning into their so-called badness.
Then there is Death Grips, an experimental hip-hop band. If you shuffle their album “Bottomless Pit”, you might get a headache and ringing ears. But they have built a cult following based on when bad becomes art. Death Grips is "bad" in the sense that they defy conventional structures of melody and harmony. The abrasive, overwhelming, disturbing, and at times seemingly incomprehensible music becomes good precisely because it breaks traditional rules.
Then there are the SoundCloud rappers like Smokepurpp and Lil Pump. I do not even know if I should recommend any albums. Low production value, poorly mixed beats, lyrics glorifying vices, and mumbling slurred words repeated over and over again. Yet their influence reshaped an entire genre, proving that bad was actually just different, and difference in music often signals the start of something revolutionary. Blueface is another example. He was bad because he rapped off-beat, but it became a part of culture. He made a statement, and now people look back and think it was good because it was unique.
So what actually makes music bad? If it is not about technical skill, because Primus defies that. If it is not about sounding good, because Death Grips proves that is irrelevant. If it is not about lo-fi production, because SoundCloud rap built an empire on it.
Real bad music is the meaningless type of music. Music that exists purely as an algorithmic product to go viral. Music that has no real human essence. Music made by celebrities just because they can. Music that is designed to be forgettable and become irritating when overplayed in a grocery store. When every new pop song is built from the same four-chord progression, polished to an inoffensive shine, and designed to maximize short-term virality rather than lasting emotional impact, you have to remind yourself that it is actually really easy to make bad music but hard to make "bad" music.
We do not need to stop making “bad” music. In fact, “bad” music often pushes the boundaries of what is possible, forcing listeners to recalibrate their understanding of sound itself. But we do need to stop making meaningless music, music that lacks intention, music that exists only as a fleeting trend, music that contributes nothing to the greater conversation.
If music is going to be bad, let it be so bad it is good. Let it be intentionally strange. Let it be something that forces people to listen twice just to figure out what on earth is happening, because at least then, it is doing something.
No, no, no. Bad music is not the experimental noise band that samples tires screeching into a ten-minute-long song. It is not the death metal band with demonic distorted vocals. It is not the contemporary jazz piece where the dissonant, frantic sax solo seems never-ending. Bad music is not "bad" music.
Take Primus, a prog rock and funk metal band that defies genres. If you shuffle their album “Sailing the Seas of Cheese”, your forehead might crinkle. Their entire ethos is built around the idea that "Primus sucks." This ironic self-deprecation actually masks an absurd level of technical skill and artistry, which, when stripped of its deliberately off-putting aesthetic, weird melodies, and silly lyrics, reveals musicianship that is anything but bad. The complex and fast groove on the slap bass, the unpredictable song structures, and the insane drum patterns that people attempt to learn but can never quite master all prove that Primus has built a name for themselves by leaning into their so-called badness.
Then there is Death Grips, an experimental hip-hop band. If you shuffle their album “Bottomless Pit”, you might get a headache and ringing ears. But they have built a cult following based on when bad becomes art. Death Grips is "bad" in the sense that they defy conventional structures of melody and harmony. The abrasive, overwhelming, disturbing, and at times seemingly incomprehensible music becomes good precisely because it breaks traditional rules.
Then there are the SoundCloud rappers like Smokepurpp and Lil Pump. I do not even know if I should recommend any albums. Low production value, poorly mixed beats, lyrics glorifying vices, and mumbling slurred words repeated over and over again. Yet their influence reshaped an entire genre, proving that bad was actually just different, and difference in music often signals the start of something revolutionary. Blueface is another example. He was bad because he rapped off-beat, but it became a part of culture. He made a statement, and now people look back and think it was good because it was unique.
So what actually makes music bad? If it is not about technical skill, because Primus defies that. If it is not about sounding good, because Death Grips proves that is irrelevant. If it is not about lo-fi production, because SoundCloud rap built an empire on it.
Real bad music is the meaningless type of music. Music that exists purely as an algorithmic product to go viral. Music that has no real human essence. Music made by celebrities just because they can. Music that is designed to be forgettable and become irritating when overplayed in a grocery store. When every new pop song is built from the same four-chord progression, polished to an inoffensive shine, and designed to maximize short-term virality rather than lasting emotional impact, you have to remind yourself that it is actually really easy to make bad music but hard to make "bad" music.
We do not need to stop making “bad” music. In fact, “bad” music often pushes the boundaries of what is possible, forcing listeners to recalibrate their understanding of sound itself. But we do need to stop making meaningless music, music that lacks intention, music that exists only as a fleeting trend, music that contributes nothing to the greater conversation.
If music is going to be bad, let it be so bad it is good. Let it be intentionally strange. Let it be something that forces people to listen twice just to figure out what on earth is happening, because at least then, it is doing something.