Tag Archives: Music

Et tu, Beatles?

Friends, Romans, music-listeners, lend me your ears!

I speak to you today because we, as a collection of music-listeners–for yea, I know not one man who does not don headphones nor at least sit betwixt car stereo speakers–must re-appropriate songs from our troubled pasts. Far too often are good songs interred with the proverbial bones of a bad relationship. Too often are entire playlists cast off like mutineers.  No more!

Music is not insidious; our memories are. Music is our faithful friend and should not be punished for holding steadfast during the tumultuous times of our lives.  As one cannot tether the wind, one must not chain good music to bad memories.

So I implore you to sit through what once was “your” song (how could a song be “his” or “yours” when notes can belong to no man?). Sing along to songs that once brought forth tears. With time, good people, I assure you, the memories will unlatch their unholy grasp from our music collections and our iPods can play freely once more.


Long drives are pretty empowering nowadays…

What’s with all these personal anthem songs that are so big right now? Like Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” and Pink’s “Fuckin’ Perfect” and Katy Perry’s “Firework” and their ilk. I know that bullying is kind of the issue du jour, but it’s weird to belt out songs in the car about how awesome I am. What happened to songs about banging bitches and hos? That’s an easier concept for me to wrap my head around than me being awesome “just the way I am.” Ugh. Gag me with sentiment.

Also, I don’t know if they realize this, but not everyone is awesome.

So I want to give a shoutout to Enrique Inglesias for his amazing and blunt “Tonight (I’m Fucking You).”


Play that funky music, white girl

Recently, through a kind gesture from the higher-ups at my place of business, I now have speakers for my work computer. Little did they know, they just put a whole lot of pressure on me to be cool, or, at the very least, professional.

Back when I was listening to music through my headphones, I would play whatever my heart desired. Show tunes! Britney Spears! REO Speedwagon! Racy podcasts that say “fuck” a lot! But I can’t play that stuff now. I’m already the weirdo in the corner that gives people the wink and the gun and laughs awkward laugh-barks when someone tries to make a joke. I see these speakers as a chance for redemption.

But redemption, be it musical or otherwise, does not come easily, folks. Now I have to choose my Pandora stations with a discriminating ear, as everything will be heard by my nearby coworkers and any passerby. So right now, I’ve been sticking with “safe” Pandora stations—The Beatles, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and The Eagles. Can’t judge someone for liking The Beatles, can you? No, you sure can’t. But these play lists are getting boring pretty quickly–yes, even my beloved Beatles.

I was so desperate today for a change that I plugged in “Johannes Brahms” into Pandora. Am I this person now? The person who listens to classical music for appearances? No one likes that person, Lisa.

I am now reminiscent for the days when my former coworker blasted Blink 182 and Eminem. I can do better than THAT. Some days.