The first few notes of this album are the closest to a time machine I’ve felt in a long time.
I’ve learned an important lesson this holiday season. No matter how jamming I wanna be alone in the house to this song, it’s very difficult to dance in my mom’s house, due to the fact that 72% of the air consists of cigarette smoke.
Oh, my golly, I think my lung just collapsed.
Song: “Classic Girl”
Dear High School Me:
The weather is cold and raining, and not unlike the air around you the first time you ever stole one of Mom’s Marlboro Reds because you wanted to see if it felt “cooler” to smoke in the rain, as you were waiting for Keith Randolph to pick you up in his Jeep on the way to school. He overcharged you five bucks a week for the pleasure, but anything was better than getting stuck with those faux-Nazi poseur bullies on the back of the schoolbus. Continue reading
Song: “Who’s Crying Now”
I want a Journey button. I think it’d be best used in my car. I want a Journey button and when I press it, all the space around me is filled with the music of Journey — music that sounds like I’m making an important decision, that I’m on a mission. That I’m about to get through this next goddamn thing if it kills me.
And I’d need it in my car, you see, because the Journey button would probably cause my life to montage. I’d rather get the driving montaged, because then the music won’t be wasted when I’m stuck on the 405 for an hour.
Song: “Drip Drop Teardrop”
I don’t care how girly this sounds. I covet the shoes she’s wearing on the album cover.
(The album’s good, too.)