Song: “Heal Over”
Bob borrows my iPod every day to listen to music while he writes monologue jokes. While he’s very patient as I try to sway him toward six thousand songs he’s never heard before (he’s admittedly not that into music), I know that as soon as I leave the room, he’s scrolling right to the Martika and Wham!. That’s okay. I respect someone who knows what he wants.
But when he listened to about six bands I forced upon him, he came back with only one suggestion. KT Tunstall. I’m guessing it was a combo of Rilo Kiley, Cat Power and Kelly Clarkson that led him to think I’d be interested. I’ve only heard the album once, on my drive in yesterday, because Bob has since borrowed it and has yet to return it. I only say that because there’s a .03% chance he’d read this and it would drive him crazy. The guy has apologized sixty times for still having the CD and even tried to pay me for buying it purely on his suggestion; a pre-money back offer in case I didn’t like the album in the end.
The entire album is like reliving one night when I’m fifteen, waiting for the phone to ring, scribbling in a notebook, getting incredibly sad about the smallest things — Why did he throw away that note I wrote him? And why is my favorite show not on tonight because of a stupid Presidential address? And why can’t I just get to have my own apartment? And why are all of my clothes so dumb?