the treehouse is doing a monthly night of folks covering classic albums. i like to imagine myself a musician, so finding my classic cover seemed like not an entirely pointless effort.
i spent some time sending the right songs to the right person. honestly, they were the worst possible choices! the first was good. i really should have left it at that. (no! really this time!) we had seen, but not heard, it on a saturday afternoon infomercial.
i had planned to send a david bowie track after that because "moonage daydream" played on the way home. i couldn't find what i was looking for, so i thought i might send the t. rex song with the barely discernible persian reference. so lame. of course i sent it.
another t. rex song, which i had rejected moments before, suddenly appealed to me and revealed itself as the one true t. rex-ference. so, there. now that's two.
two songs from his favorite band. it's screaming, "hey, i'm thinking about you!" which i was, but so deeply that i didn't really know i was. obviously, i'm looking at songs to send him, but once i focus on the song itself, it becomes less about him. it honestly didn't cross my mind that it was an awkward choice.
would 3 be enough? of course not. as soon as i sent "jeepster," i realized i hadn't thought of myself much at all (too little, too late).
somewhere in the 1990s, a comedian/rocker/writer told/sang/wrote a joke that made it very clear to my forming frontal lobes that phil collins is not cool. having been fully engaged in survival mode for several years, i immediately calculated the cost-benefit. i had to hate him, too.
i've been learning to embrace my tastes. i really like phil collins' songs. none of that pretentious "before peter gabriel left ..." bullshit. i mean, genesis as most of the fucking world knows it.
my classic cover album is: Invisible Touch.
"land of confusion"
thing 1
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