This was the first week I was able to make it all the way through the playlist of the featured artist! Yay! Cue the balloons and confetti! This will happen on at least a couple more occasions, but more often than not I won’t be able to get through an entire discography in one week without locking myself away with nothing but a stereo. Since that’s pretty impractical, I’ll just have to be happy about these little victories.
White Zombie week has been a weird ride. For every moment where I was grooving out to them in my car, there was another moment where I was reminded of a powerful memory associated with White Zombie. Whether it was the memories I talked about in my posts this week, or something simpler, like listening to La Sexorcisto for the first time and having to immediately turn in down when that woman starts crying out in pleasure at the beginning of Welcome to Planet Motherfucker because I was still a teenager and I didn’t want to have the conversation with my parents of “what are you listening to?” All told, this was a week of nostalgia. I even watched Airheads, since White Zombie (the whole band) makes an appearance.
Unlike a lot of the artists before and coming up on the countdown, White Zombie is a band that represents a time and a place. It was one of the artists that dominated my late teen years, but with their breakup, and my lack of interest in Rob Zombie’s solo work, they exist just there and not as a continuing influence. I still enjoy listening to them when they come up randomly, but as I discovered this week, I am no longer in a place where I want to hear wall-to-wall White Zombie.
I think to try and dive any further into this might do a disservice to the posts I’ve already done this week. An attentive reader would notice that all of my White Zombie stories are 20+ years old. I’ve created no new stories, either because there is no new “White Zombie” music or because I’ve moved on from them. Both are possible explanations, but I’m strongly leading towards the latter. White Zombie is that high school friend who you promise to stay in contact with forever, but then lose track of six months into college. They were exactly what you needed in your teens, but once you get into the wider world you realize they have nothing left to offer you.
You can find that sentiment sad if you want, but I’m actually pretty okay with it. We grow, we change. Sometimes, we grow towards new things. Sometimes, we grow away from things that we don’t need anymore. It’s not sad, it’s not mean. It just is. White Zombie and I were close when I needed them. I needed them as an outlet, and as personal proof that I was just a little cooler and edgier than people gave me credit for. But once I didn’t need that affirmation, and once I had different musical outlets, White Zombie and I drifted apart.
Plus, I was never into the car culture enough to get all of the references.