Monday, February 28, 2011

I Don't Take Myself Seriously Enough To Be a Musician

(If you don't think that font choice is funny, then I'm not totally sure we can be friends.)


Little known fact: I wanna be a rock star. Badly. In my car, I am one. I beat the crap out of Taylor Swift on her own songs (I could write tomes on the subject of Taylor Swift, but I will not). But, still, even in the silence and judgement-free zone of the car or the shower, no one can actually sing a Kelly Clarkson song. Am I right? My friend Cindy knows exactly what I'm talking about. We tried, man. We gave it a solid effort until one night we just gave up. You can't do it. And if even Cindy can't do it--you know it's a real defeat. Cindy could belt out Crazy In Love like it was NBD, bitz.

You know how Rob Gordon is always making mental lists? Well, me, too. I am always keeping a mental list of songs that I would cover when I became a rock star. The difference between me and Rob Gordon (there are so many) is that Rob can spout off his lists without hesitency where as, after two days of thinking about it, I can't think of many at all. My full-length album was suddenly cut down to just a little guy. Like, a single with bonus tracks.

Songs that I would cover if I ever had the opportunity:

Over The Rhine; Suitcase: The first time that I heard this song, I was halfway through reading The Maytrees by Annie Dillard. I know that most of you won't understand what's so powerful about that but the best of you will. I'm not going to ruin it for you, so I'll just leave that subject alone. I can't say that I like this song. There are things about it that are so damn good. Like the way her voice just tumbles out at the end of "sunny day." The way the whole thing sounds like a gorgeous, sleepy, half-mumble but is still completely coherent. It feels like a day when it's raining but when the sun's still shining bright. It's cheerful but pensive. Even sad things happen on gorgeous afternoons.
I don't like how it makes me feel. It reminds me of the type of person I am--like this song would most likely be written to me, rather than by me. It reminds me of what I'm very prone to. And with that--I'll leave it alone because this became kind of a downer. NEXT.

Kid Cudi; Pursuit of Happiness: I'd probably, actually, start the record with this song because it's way more cute. I'd take it all the way down, take out all the fake sounds and add a banjo and a mandolin and I'd curl my hair and wear a patterned, A-line dress that hits at about my knees and sing my little heart out while sitting on a stool with my hands in my lap. I've got it all planned out. I sing it in the shower all the time. And. I. Rule at it.

Stevie Wonder; Part Time Lover: I always thought it was silly that a blind guy would think to say, "if she's with me, I'll blink the lights." But upon further consideration, I think only a blind guy could really get away with that without seeming all together too suspicious.

Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers; My Sweet Charade: For the record, I had loved this song for years before I saw how fucking adorable that guy is. If I cover his song, do you think he'd go out with me? Yeah? Me, too.

The Smiths; Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now: Oh Morrissey, you writes like I do: "I was looking for a job and then I found a job." It's touching, really. In my head, I'm still wearing that dress from Pursuit of Happiness.

Also, it's coming to my attention that my affinity for songs that boys write about girls will not translate well into an album that paints an accurate portrayal of my sexual preferences.

What would you cover?

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