Feb. 3rd, 2009

shoebox_dw: (kitty fabulous)
So the music project has somehow morphed (coughcoughcoughwith the aid of Frostwirecoughcough) into a super-spectacular star-studded trip down memory lane.

All I know for sure is, I went to the Closet of Half-Forgotten Things to check my cassettes for a song title, and suddenly realised...I have a LOT of cassettes. Like, entire previous musical lives were sitting there mouldering away.
Naturally I paused to take a closer look, which on reflection may have been a tactical error. Awww, hey, it's Huey Lewis! The Cars! Tears For Fears! Music From Miami Vice! How could I have denied my heritage this way? Come to my arms, you beamish little plastic memories, I must ensure you are immortalised forever!

...I think it was the realisation that I was eagerly searching for Parachute Club lyrics that finally snapped me out of it.

The encouraging part is that, as it turns out, I had pretty good musical taste back then ('then' being roughly 1983-93). Aside from your standard teenage flirtations with a good beat and a cute bod - Eric Carmen, what was I thinking? -  and the weakness for big, Meaningful power ballads that I think it was illegal not to have in the 80's, I seem to have escaped the worst. Even the aforementioned Miami Vice soundtrack now just makes me smile indulgently, not cringe.

(Bonus fun true coincidence: As I was coming home from work today, the local EZ-Rock station's 'Feel-Good Favourite at Five' was Glenn Frey's The Heat is On, from that very same soundtrack. And lo, there was much indulgent smiling right there.)

I'm even rather proud, like a fond parent would be, of my fascination with Brit synthpop - Eurythmics, Thompson Twins, the Human League, that sort of thing.  This is where it would be really nice to go back in time and advise my HS self; I seem to have been flirting on the borderline of cool all that time without even realising it...

*has a relisten to I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight*

...OK, maybe not. Still...

*smiles indulgently*

shoebox_dw: (garfield rabid moth)
Nothing too serious, just the usual opportunities to waaaaaaaay overthink public media on the daily commute:

1.) The Big Giant Ad of Specialness one of the online dating services - could be lavalife.com - has put up @ Union Station. 'We're looking for Canada's Top 200 Singles!' it says. Apparently there are prizes and everything.
Now, correct me if I'm missing some marketing subtletly here, but this is a dating service, right?  So, following things out to the logical conclusion, your 'top singles' would be...the ones who aren't single anymore? I mean, if they are still single, that would indicate a pretty severe failure to get with the program, from your POV.

2.) OK, this Robert Pattinson thing. He has my undying respect for his candidly-stated approach to his Twilight character - basically, the Method expression of "Are you %#$^%&-ing kidding me?". Thing is, he has also been confronting me on newstands everywhere lately, and you'll need to excuse me while I get this off my chest:

Is it just me, or does he - when in Edward Teh Angsty Vampire mode, anyhow - look exactly like a live-action Dragonball Z character? You know - the Brows of Badassery drawn way down his face, with a ferocious little scowl sort of wedged beneath? Like, it's hard to tell whether he's heroic or just irritable that he didn't listen when his mom said his face would freeze like that?

This all I have been able to see for some few months now, at any rate, and it is impeding what little ability I have left to take the whole Sparkly Fun Undead franchise seriously...oops, slipped another notch there.

You know, there are days when a long urban commute has its compensations, after all.

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