Music has always had some magical power over me.
It has a way of roping my emotions into an air tight jar
and shaking so quickly my tears jump when they fall,
and my words constantly turn into lyrics.
You said that music could be my hero,
could be a link
for everything that I wanted possible
Well, you spoke truth.
It's the reason why we had the following conversation.
You asked me about
Ingrid Michaelson-You and I
I said, I sing this song with so much damn heart
that I can't wait till I sit on the beach in the
south of France
and joke that you and I could do anything better
then sit on the fucking beach in France counting
the pebbles to a million.
Then there are the songs so beautiful that
just a quick listen makes you somber.
Here are a sampling of my favorites
Glen Hansard- Leave
Mumford and Sons- Timshel
Bon Iver- Skinny Love
The Head and The Heart- Down in the Valley
James Taylor-Fire and Rain
Then you ask me if I speak Spanish.
Of course I reply back ashamed
of my gift of tongues.
But then I laugh.
I do speak Spanish.
Every time I listen to Spanish music it comes back.
I find myself having conversations with verb conjugations
long forgotten and never used.
Then you ask me about my harder tunes.
I proudly whisper that I listen to Rage.
I got three CDs for my birthday from the friend
that taught me to be a renegade of funk,
and that sweaty July nights were worth
the effort when you kissed on top of a mountain
under mounds of stars and sparkles called fireworks
Then I decide to tell you that I love Sufjan Stevens
for the mere fact that he recorded Chicago
in four different versions.
Then I tell you there are only three people
in this entire planet that have had the pleasure
of singing every single word of
Saints and Sailors by Dashboard with me.
Always in a car, head banging, wishing that
bitter pill was next.
Then I told you about how much I love Regina
and the way her songs make me feel dirty and vulnerable,
and how I actually hate CocoRosie
Then I tell you about the time I saw Modest Mouse
and they finally sang Float On and I literally died of
happiness from the beat melting my ear drums.
Then I ask if you ever imagined your life to a song?
You don't answer... you're not here.
But I say I have.
I image it to Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap.
Liten to it. Think about it. You could see it right?
Then you say you love country.
You name your favorite artists and I say
I love Drunk on you and American Kids.
They play in my head like i'm constantly clicking
my boots together, in a plaid shirt, trotting my fucking horse
down memory lane,
Man, I miss my damn horse Orvile.
Boy could I go on for hours about this shit.
I have so much to say it's terrible
But I do have to say that From Eden by Hozier makes
me think the hell out of you.
and you totally ruined Lupe Fiasco for me
in a good way,
and I can't even begin to listen to the radio
So yes, you are not here, the above never happened,
and I talk to myself.
It's a disease I've gained thru the years.
Mostly from the somber mellow tunes I fill
my pretty mushed brain with.
It's ok though. I have gotten really great at
snapping my fingers and doing a two step across
any freshly cleaned floor
in an oversized tank top