Salute – Dialects differentiate cultures by adding variety to a base language in order to reflect a social or regional distinction, marked by pronunciation, grammar, or vocabulary. These variations not only bond the communities that use them together but the underlying commonality of linguistics helps provide a thread to tie all the diversity together. The adaptation of outside resources and the course of time can cause a dialect to morph into its own language, but the history of its foundation still exists. It is not that much different in music, especially our music.

English began existence as a Germanic dialect called Anglo-Saxon that was brought to England by invaders from Germany. The Anglo-Saxon peoples in England were now geographically isolated from their cousins in Germany which allowed the dialects to evolve in different directions.

Not much different from that of music. Idealistically, the roots of what we presently call our genre come to us from the foundations of rock and roll and each subsequent generation has put it’s own spin on the popular music form originally spawned in the 1950s. Although, in many ways the aggressive, loud, guitar-driven boisterous sonic imagery of our music has spawned its own entity, as English did from its Germanic roots, it still has the same foundation in form and structure of its predecessor.

The continual maturity of language caused rifts in the definition of words. Each subsequent group that ran into the language of English while moving through the region further tweaked it with their own interpretation, further skewing it with the passing of time. By the time English made it to the America’s it had taken a life of its own here. Now we are creating similar diversions from the original entity. Which is it: Drinking soda or pop? Eating a grinder, a hero, a sub, a po’boy or a hoagie? Going ’round a circle or a rotary? Mixing with seltzer or sparkling or bubbly? Are they dust bunnies, woolies, furkittens or house moss hiding under the bed? Do you cuss, curse, bad-mouth or spew? Are you crawlin, beat, bushed or just plain tired of reading these?

Like with languages, we cannot agree on what we call our genre and created a series of variations of saying similar things. Is it hard rock or loud rock, heavy metal or hardcore? We skew the definitions to accentuate subtitles in form and place a mark of individuality on it. Do you headbang to thrash, speed, death and grind, or hit the pit to punk, hardcore, metalcore or tech? Do you scream to power, prog, traditional or throw the horns to the old school, dance to the nu-skool, sing to the emocore or slam to the beats. Each new subgenre borrows from a different outside source to put it’s own spin on the metalect.

Instinctually, we seek to divide based on differences rather than embracing the similarities. In language, it’s the simplicity in the vernacular usage of annunciations as accents. In the United States especially it’s a regional phenom of interpretation of the language that makes us special. For example, what do you do with the letter “R?” Is it “ah” (new england) “arh” (midwest) “ir” (mid atlantic) “aw” (southern), turn it backwards (koRn) or some other localized bastardizations of the letter, lettah, lettarh, lettir, lettaw or whatever you say for for it, ultimately it is still an “R.”

No different than music, the regional interpretation of inspiration leads to different sounds coming out of the same geographical area resulting in a multitude of American music styles. Be it Bay Area thrash, or New England metalcore, Florida death, Mid-West Power metal, Seattle grunge, LA Glam or NYHC, they all say essentially the same thing. The US scene ain’t none to F-with.

Much like you don’t let the subtleties of language stop you from communicating, don’t let the subtleties of subgenres detract from rocking hard. We’re all one big conglomeration of pummeling beats and swirling riffs and screaming vocals so we need to get along all noun-verb style and adapt to the metalect the same way you use your intellect to interpret the dialect of others.


Watch the big wheel of fun spin like a lost out-of-stater trying to negotiate New Jersey’s jughandles.

This week’s QUOTE OF THE WEEK goes to the SynHQ. We have a dry-erase board in our office that we write random text, such as a thought of the day or a quick quip about the world around us. My (Eric doormouse) recent post in response to another remark was “wise men talk in riddles to bewilder and confuse: 1. yoda 2. Confucius 3. Jesus Christ 4. dr. spock 5. gandolf” and people then continued adding to the list. Eventually, someone posted our tech guys Bernie’s name in the list. Needless to say, we all chuckled upon its discovery. Truth is always humorous.

This week’s YOU ARE SATAN goes to Eric doormouse and my response to miss Amy Tso’s physical threats. Miss Amy decided it might be funny to hurl an empty glass bottle at me mid-day today. Luckily she only pretended to do so and inquired what I would have done had she not kept it snuggly in her grip. I replied rather matter-of-factly, “I would have kicked yer azz senseless, after I got up off the ground in pain from impact.”

Sometimes . . . Y’all’re gonnah git tah pahk the cah in havahd yahd en den wark to da baygal joint on doity-doid street.


About thedoormouse

I am I. That’s all that i am. my little mousehole in cyberspace of fiction, recipes, sacrasm, op-ed on music, sports, and other notations both grand and tiny:
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