"Fake Plastic Trees" by Radiohead

"It sucks," she said.

"What do you mean, it sucks?" I replied, getting slightly aggravated.

She waved her hand away. "Only people on drugs like that music."

Disbelief. "So what kind of music do you like?"

"I like music that has a good beat, that sounds good."

"What about the words? The meaning?" I was quickly losing patience. "That's not important to you at all?"

"I don't care about that. As long as I can dance to it."

What this was, at its essence, was a fundamental discussion about the creation of music, the purpose of music, and, by extension, about the very definition of music itself. And all this at what was supposed to be a fun-filled booze-fueled weekend of immature tomfoolery at a friend's cottage... excuse me, auberge, up north. (Although, quite honestly, we were already too old for that.)

How did our party end up like this? Someone had brought up a guitar and, on this particular Saturday night, decided to play "Fake Plastic Trees." Why would he do that?  I don't know. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but sing along, and with every ounce of emotion in me.

I once read that, after recording the track, Thom Yorke broke down and cried. If stuff like this doesn't mean anything to you, then you haven't heard the half of it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKd06s1LNik