I work in an old building downtown. It’s an awesome place, very different from the normal high rises and towers that you see in most of the Seattle skyline. Because of this, it attracts a wide array of tenants–there are doctors, architects, and lawyers, on some of the other floors.
Our nearest neighbor in the building, however, is a training program for a hair salon. I think they’ve been there for maybe a year now, maybe longer. I walk past there several times a day, because the restroom for our floor is clear at the other side of the building. They’re not in session every day, but when they are, they typically have loud pop music blaring from the space.
They seem to have this strange fondness for … I want to call them mash-ups, but it’s probably more accurately sampling. Like today, they’re playing “Dreams” by The Cranberries, but someone was rapping over it. This is not the only time I’ve heard such atrocities. It’s seriously at least once every time they have a class in there, and often more than that. And it’s almost always songs that I know and like, too. Or at least the originals were songs I know and like.
I realize that most of the people in this training program are probably college-aged, which means that some of them have not heard the originals of the songs that are being massacred. Some of them may not have even been born when the originals were released (there’s a lot of 80s music involved). But it still hurts my soul. A lot.