12.11.2005

Let's Call it 1993: One Pineapple for Natalie Imbruglia


So you hear a song and it makes you think of a person, or a place, or it forces you to mush together 3 years of memories into a single instant and suddenly the only important thing you did between 1999 and 2001 was eat congealed macaroni and cheese out of a pan with no handle using a big wooden spoon while sitting on your blue and tan couch that only has a cushion on the leftmost side while watching WWF on mute and just then realizing that you look totally dumb wearing a tube top in February, especially since it's tie-dye (and especially since you've chosen to pair it with mesh shorts), and that it's just not okay to make-out with a 17-year-old even if he's 6'3"-looks-really-(really)-good-in-a-visor-and-you-called-dibs-first, and that you really should stream some 409 on the ashy crap on the coffee table before you fall asleep because it might stain the yellow stars you painted so neatly to cover the gray-black residue that happened last time you had a similar thought and did nothing about it. But moons or puppies could look nice too, since you've already painted stars and suns and amorphic flagella-ish creatures that sorta resemble lizards. And then -abruptly- your very critical rumination is shattered as a guy named Skizzy throws a Kurt Engel action figure at you, knocking your spoon onto the carpet and solidifying the instant's indelibility.


Of course, this is all to the tune of DMX's "Bring it...Whaaaat? We riiiight here. We not goin anywhe'...."


I would obviously never use an example from my own life.


But that's not my point. Not really. Yesterday I'm running along the bike path, and (after inadvertently performing The Real Slim Shady for three Brigham's workers) Natalie Imbruglia's Torn comes on my Shuffle. Strangest feeling, it reminded me of myself. Like, in general. Not a specific memory, or amalgam of memories, or another person....It made me think of me. period. Totally unnerving, considering that after I was struck with this thought, I began to parse the lyrics, hoping to figure out why it triggered such a moment of clarity/dumbfoundedness. "I'm all outta faith..."; "I'm cold and I'm alone, lying naked on the floor..."
Right, yea, comforting. I'm trying to figure out why it put an extra bounce in my step. Because I just realized that I'm not 13 anymore? Or did I experience a huge life shift in-and-around this song, about which I have absolutely no recollection? Truly, truly frightening.


Okay, I am really going to make a serious effort in my next post to back the truck up. You know what I mean.

1 Comments:

Blogger kate.d. said...

number one: skizzy rules.

number two: it's really strange that you write about this, because for some reason, the guitar at the very end of "torn" always sounded to me like something elemental- something that i identified with wholly, even though i had no idea why.

that's kinda embarrassing to admit because, you know, it's mid 90s alternapop. but it's true. and admitting it is the first step....

10:53 PM  

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