2. "Killed it" and/or "Killing it": Lately, it seems some music fans and writers are feeling the need to satisfy some curiously violent itch when describing live music; their choice of wording proves it. "The band is killing it," we read. Killing what? Is that a good thing? What are they playing? What do they sound like? If by "killing it," you're meaning they're good, tell us why. Violent, nondescript, trite terminology seems unnecessary.
Bonus (docked) points: The "literally killed it" combo.
1. "Epic": This word is, without a doubt, the single most ridiculously overused term in all of music. (We've lately noticed it seeping into advertising and food criticism, as well.) I can't tell you how many times this word scrolls along my Twitter feed, popping up everywhere, like a contagious, prevailing plague. Its overuse must stop. We are more clever than this.
The Odyssey is epic. It'd be safe to assume one could describe seeing, say, Pink Floyd as an "epic" experience. Attending LCD Soundsystem's farewell show was most likely "epic." Busting your load over Joe Schmo Guitarist because he successfully replicated the Pete Townshend Windmill probably doesn't warrant the use of such a momentous adjective. Furthermore, the frequent use of this word has presented a "Boy Who Cried Wolf" type conundrum: If I see your tweet about a show you deem "epic"," that show should be rad enough for me -- for anyone -- to stop what they're doing and haul ass to the venue, in order to witness a rare, legendary experience. Instead, the statement is written off, its reader figuring two things: First, perhaps the writer has simply run out of creative words, and second, said show is most likely not, in fact, "epic" -- because few things in life are.
Folks, when describing music, food, art, sex, what have you, let's dare to be different! Let us impress ourselves and each other and use new words! Let us bury the incessant use of "epic" and its clichéd cronies, and instead reserve such a term in its best form, as a Faith No More song, of course.
