I sat down to compose a couple of e-mails this evening, and, as is my wont, I fired up iTunes for some background music.
Normally, I'm kinda restive, and want to hear whatever my latest purchase is, or I'll bop around my library, choosing whatever strikes me as being appropriate to the moment.
Oddly, however, this time I decided to just start playing the library from the beginning. Since I have my iTunes library sorted by Album by Artist, up first was some Natalie Merchant-era 10,000 Maniacs.
I'm here to tell you: I don't know if ol' Natalie was writing the songs for the Maniacs back then, but if she was, she was one angry depressed woman. Song after song of just people in horrible straits. I was ready to swallow a shotgun barrel after the first three songs.
No problem, I thought to myself, I'll just skip to the next artist.
Aimee Mann.
The album, 1995's I'm With Stupid, didn't go a long way toward making me feel any better.
In fact, it may have made me feel worse.
I was beginning to grow concerned, so I started skimming ahead through my little alphabetical journey:
You can see where this is heading, can't you?
I had a long way to go before I got to The Andrew Sisters. They sang some saddish songs, but thank god they at least did it in kick-ass three part harmony.
If every you need an explanation as to why I tend toward the depressive, mayhap you'll want to look to my music collection.
Normally, I'm kinda restive, and want to hear whatever my latest purchase is, or I'll bop around my library, choosing whatever strikes me as being appropriate to the moment.
Oddly, however, this time I decided to just start playing the library from the beginning. Since I have my iTunes library sorted by Album by Artist, up first was some Natalie Merchant-era 10,000 Maniacs.
I'm here to tell you: I don't know if ol' Natalie was writing the songs for the Maniacs back then, but if she was, she was one angry depressed woman. Song after song of just people in horrible straits. I was ready to swallow a shotgun barrel after the first three songs.
No problem, I thought to myself, I'll just skip to the next artist.
Aimee Mann.
The album, 1995's I'm With Stupid, didn't go a long way toward making me feel any better.
In fact, it may have made me feel worse.
I was beginning to grow concerned, so I started skimming ahead through my little alphabetical journey:
- Albert Collins. Depressing (if kinda funky) blues.
- Alexi Murdoch. Lachrymose singer-songwriter.
- Alisa Jones. Mournful Celtic music.
- Alison Krauss. Sad-ass country music.
- Amos Lee. Less-than-happy singer-songwriter.
- Andres Segovia. Bach guitar suites.
You can see where this is heading, can't you?
I had a long way to go before I got to The Andrew Sisters. They sang some saddish songs, but thank god they at least did it in kick-ass three part harmony.
If every you need an explanation as to why I tend toward the depressive, mayhap you'll want to look to my music collection.
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