I am no music critic for sure. I know neither heads nor tails of the nuances of a good music. I pick up whatever music that takes my fancy. And no, that’s not how I do it with guys.
Just last year, I’ve built a whole new collection from the album of Pink to Snow Patrol, from KT Tunstall to Maroon 5, from Amos Lee and Gary Jules to a smorgasbord of OPMs that included great songs from The Company. There were also some more albums from various artists that I played from time to time.
Last year with men, I had a collection of one. I haven’t played his memories for a while now.
Early this year, I rekindled my love affair with the Indigo Girls. Their poetic songs just about fit a wide range of emotions from the longing in Ghost to the decisiveness of Last Tears. Add to that their political leanings especially on women as expressed most recently in Pendulum Swingers, the duo of Amy Ray and Emily Saliers – with their beautiful blending – have never left my playlist for months.
While my affair with the girls was raging, I also had a tryst with Michael Ball. Notwithstanding his boyish good looks and those adorable dimples, his rendition of some popular songs and Broadway hits makes for memorable mushy sessions.
For the past months with men though, there were no affairs or trysts. There was a guy … but never mind.
Since last week, I’ve been listening to Sigur Ros. When I first played their music in the office, my colleagues rushed to the window to see if there was a funeral march outside. Talk about getting knocked out on the first round.
Last week when I was all alone, I played them again and I was lost.
I got lost in their music and just sat down for about an hour drinking coffee and smoking. There is something in their beat that soothes and relaxes. It actually feels like being transported to a magical place where fairies, including me, fly about freely.
Each song of theirs reveals a story – from the simple enough intro to a whole gamut of climaxes and to an ending that sometimes make you wonder why did it happen that way.
I got lost in their words, literally. Nobody really knows what most of their lyrics mean. Then again, it did not actually matter.
And that voice of Jon Birgisson! Ethereal.
With men, or at least a man, I got lost and am now finding my way back.
So yes, how I choose my music is very much different from the way I fall with men. But they actually have two things in common: I stick with them like warts for a long, long time and both excludes Britney Spears.