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This week’s question comes to us from Mike Jacobsen:
I love Radiohead. My wife, on the other hand, really hates them. We have come to an understanding that their music won’t be played in her presence. So my question is how do you convince your spouse of the virtues of Radiohead?
You don’t.
I’d encourage you to respect the understanding you claim to have reached with your wife, both in letter and in spirit. Cause right now you’re looking for a way to break that understanding. You’re using a ceasefire as an opportunity to find more ammunition, and I don’t want to help with that.
I will of course help you, but not in the way you were hoping to. Which is kinda the lingua franca of this newsletter. (Look at me, getting fancy!)
The bigger issue here is that you believe your spouse is wrong. That the virtues of Radiohead would just reveal themselves to her if she were to open her mind, or listen more carefully, or adjust her taste levels, or fix herself in some way as to make the undeniable virtues of their music obvious to her. Which is bullshit. She’s not wrong in not liking a band that you like, and you’re not wrong in liking a band that she doesn’t. You like different stuff, and not only is that okay, it’s necessary in a relationship. Part of being together is having things that you enjoy doing by yourself.
I get that you’re trying to share something you enjoy. That’s a nice thing to do. You love a thing. It’s brought you good feelings. And you want to share those good feelings with someone you care about. You want them to enjoy something as much as you do. That’s commendable. I’d encourage you to keep doing that. Everyone is looking for more things to enjoy, and we certainly need them. And I bet you’ve probably recommended a bunch of stuff to your spouse, and to your friends, and to your neighbors, that hit the mark and brought them joy. You should hold on to those victories, and use them as data to build that little recommendation engine in your heart. And I’d also encourage you to remember your original intent—wanting to bring joy to someone you care about. Because that’s the key.
Once your spouse says “yeah, Radiohead isn’t for me” that door is closed. You went in with good intention, which is commendable, but it didn’t work out. It happens. And because your original intent was to bring this person joy, you take the loss and move on. Doubling down and insisting that they’re wrong to not enjoy something is going to make someone feel bad. Which was the opposite of your original intent, yes? Yes.
Also, you’re making music a chore, which is a sin.
Let’s discuss one of the most violent phrases in the English language: “Did you read that book I gave you?” For the sake of transparency, I’ll admit to once having been one of these people. You come across a book, you decide someone would enjoy it, you give them a copy for their birthday, or Christmas, or just ‘cause. Then every time we see them we ask them if they’ve read it. What we’re really looking for is an award for having recommended the right book, or the right band, or the right TV show to someone. You’ve turned joy into a point accumulation exercise for yourself.
I was lucky enough that someone eventually told me that every time I asked them if they’d read the book I gave them it made them feel guilty for not having read it yet. I’d turned a gift into a chore and chores making horrible gifts.
I love recommending things to people. Music. Books. TV Shows. Movies. Restaurants. If I’m experiencing joy in something I want to spread it around and tell other people about it. And all those recommendations are made with good intention. I’ve also learned that once you make the original recommendation you need to back off. Either people will try something or they won’t. (Their lives might not be aligned with trying a new thing at the moment for a variety of reasons.) If they try it they might come back to you and tell you they enjoyed it, and that feels great. They might also enjoy it and not feel the need to report back, which is fine. Your joy should come from sharing a joyful thing, not from the validation that you were correct. But checking back in will always turn your recommendation into a chore, which no one wants.
Speaking of which, let me talk about male friendship for a second here. Because male loneliness epidemic, blah blah. Sure, maybe. But in the past few years I’ve been in situations where I make friends with someone, we get to the point where we exchange numbers and within twenty minutes of shaking hands, talking about getting together for a drink later, or whatever, they’ve sent me a link to a 45 minute YouTube video from anything to making your own beer (I don’t drink) to smelting your own knife (are knives smelted?) to the truth about vaccination (I’m deleting and blocking your number.) Then exactly 45 minutes later they’ll text “What did you think of the video I sent?” My dudes, do not do this. I have watched exactly two videos over three minutes on YouTube, and both of them were sent to me by friends I have known forever. (One was a Bobby Fingers video, one was a 6,7 explainer.) The male loneliness epidemic could be cured if men agreed not to share videos with one another for the first six months of a relationship.
Back to Radiohead. I’m going to do you a solid here, Mike. Because you asked a question about Radiohead and I usually listen to music while I write these newsletters, there was no way to really listen to anything except Radiohead while I wrote. I’m going to tell you something that might be crushing at first, but if you just sit with it for a little while you’ll realize what an incredibly lucky guy you are. Ready?
Your spouse is correct.
I started by listening to Kid A, which is ok. It’s passable. There are admittedly a few good songs on it. Then I dove into the deep end and put on A Moon-Shaped Pool, which is… not good, Mike. Honestly, it’s the kind of music you listen to if you’re sending other dudes 45-minute IPA explainer videos, or shit about the Roman Empire. I lasted maybe four songs. Then I retreated to Amnesiac, which I remember liking when it first came out. It’s better than A Moon-Shaped Pool, but I can’t stress this enough—almost everything is.
So if I were you, I would be very happy that your spouse knows what they like, what they don’t like, and is willing to communicate that to you clearly. I’d stop bugging her about this, because she is correct.
I am lucky enough that I live with someone who brings different musical tastes into the relationship. Our venn diagram is music we both like is fairly small, but it’s solid. Erika absolutely hates what she calls “sad white guy music,” which I enjoy. (Enjoy probably isn’t the right word. It’s more like I gravitate towards it sometimes because of a Catholic upbringing.) And while we haven’t come to a stated understanding that it won’t be played in her presence, if she’s close by and I’m putting on music I’ll try to put on something that I know we both enjoy because my goal is to create a shared space where we’re both comfortable. We have enough music that we both enjoy that I don’t feel like I’m being robbed of my “sad white guy music,” which I can put on when she’s off doing something else. And I’m sure she pulls out music I’m not crazy about when I’m not around.
We got here by a lot of trial and error. I’ll put something on, she’ll either like it or not, and we go from there. Sometimes she’ll put something on, and I’ll do the same. (Somehow, she likes the Mountain Goats more than I do, which I cannot explain.) Sometimes she’ll get me to like something I was originally closed off to, and we end up at a Lady Gaga concert having a blast. Which is something I wouldn’t have pictured if she hadn’t tried, and maybe twisted my arm a little bit. I’m ok with that.
So what I’m saying is go ahead and try. The gift is in the trying. But the gift is also in the letting go. Know when to let go. For every Radiohead you strike out with, there’s gonna be something you introduce each other to that hits the mark. And the sooner you move on from the misses, the sooner you get to the hits.
But the best gift of all is that I can now stop listening to Radiohead.
🙋 Got a question for me? Ask it! Unless it’s another question about Radiohead. I think we’re done there.
📣 The last Presenting w/Confidence workshop of 2025 is scheduled for December 11 & 12. Get your ticket, and treat yourself to two sessions of hanging out with amazing people like yourself.
🎅 Remember those cheap mesh stockings you got as a kid that were filled with candy and cheap toys? I made one filled with zines and stickers and other crap! Get yourself one!
💀 Don’t forget your Fuck AI sweater. When the bubble bursts you’re gonna make sure yours already looks a lit worn.
🦃 Thanksgiving reminder: you don’t owe your time to people who want your friends dead.
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🍉 The ceasefire is a lie. Please donate to the Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund.
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