How Did That Get In There?
by Michele Christopher
There were a lot of ways to interpret today’s editor’s picks theme, so I think you’ll get four totally different takes on a subject here.
The idea was to riff off of this week’s Lo-Fi article, in which Joel wrote about the embarrassing music of his youth. We all expanded on that idea a little and went off in our own different directions, but I think that makes it a bit more fun to read, no?
So here’s Michele and Turtle's. Baby Huey's and The Finn's are in the next post over.
Michele gets furry:
CDs In My Collections That I Swear on My Mother’s Soul Are Not Mine
This is not the same as CDs I Am Embarrassed to Own. See, I am never embarrassed about the music I like. I am loud and proud about all the emo, hair metal and Air Supply in my collection.
But there are some discs that appeared mysteriously in my house. No one will take the blame for them or accept responsibility for them being here. I keep saying they aren’t mine, but I get suspicious like looks when I try to pass the buck.
“What the hell is this CD doing here??”
You know how that goes.
I hate this god damn band with the hatred of a thousand hateful people. Everything about them - that dude’s voice, his fugly ass face, the insipid lyrics, the same-shit-different-song style - makes me want to stab someone in the eyes. Just because. So trust me when I say this CD is NOT mine. Why is it here? Because I used to hang with someone who worked for their record label and it’s a promo CD. DID. NOT. PAY. FOR. That’s gotta count for something.
You know what I’m gonna do with this thing? Take it outside and see if I fling it like a frisbee if it will stick in a tree trunk.
Cats, the Original Cast Recording
Why is this CD in my house? I don’t know. I really don’t know. Maybe the evil clowns who hide in my closet at night left it here once. Yea, that’s the ticket. -M
Turtle gets all eyeliner and shit on y'all.
I have no ideas where I am going to go with this post. Let me just say that I have lost more CD's then I could ever count, been given more CD's than I remember and had to many stolen to remember. I am not innocent in the whole thing either. I stole alot of CD's. Everyone did. That is just the way it was. I mean hell, when you have so many people around and so many people working at record stores, shit is going to happen.
Now I look back at what I still have around and wonder what the fuck I was thinking when I aquired them. I must have heard something on them I liked. I guess. Something about it called to me but what it was is anyone's guess. Just something that flickered in my eye for a moment then lost it's shine. I guess.
I know I've been through a lot of different musical likes and "my favorites" over the years, so it's really no use asking me why I have this or that. At a certain point in my life, I liked it. I guess I did. Sure, most of it I can't stand anymore, but thats just what happens with music. Well, to me that is.
Some of the music does have some good memories. I can remember good times with certain songs and some songs bring up vivid memories that sometimes I don't want to remember. Just a moment on my life that was recorded on my brain, hitting playback as soon as the music starts.
I don't want to remember some of those things.
So what songs do I have that I am ashamed of?
Just bits and pieces of the person I once was waiting to be played again.
/I get all moody when it's my birthday. - T
So that's our take on this week's editor's picks. Feel free to interpret the topic at hand at will and tell us your angle on this.
Michele and Turtle are going listen to Pure Disco, Volume 5 now.