Saturday, March 10, 2007

High Fidelity Moment

In the rare moments over the past few days when I’ve not been daydreaming about having sex with That Bloke From Work, or, actually, mainly just contemplating reaching out and gently touching the veins on his arms, I’ve been thinking about having sex with Grant Lee Phillips. Fleshing it out a little bit further, I was thinking that maybe if Grant Lee Phillips had a desperately unhappy relationship with, say, me, he’d write another song as good as Fuzzy?

He just gives such good moans and ‘oh’s, does Grant-Lee, that I’m even prepared to forgive him that irritating hyphen he’s adopted of late.

Then, slowly, something dawned on me.

Given my penchant for dating failed creative types, back when I used to date, there is a distinct possibility that there are in fact songs, prose, and possibly, oh dear fucking god, poetry, in existence that are in some small way, about me.

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  • My friend used to go out with a rockstar. At first all the songs were about love and success. But as the relationship grew, the songs became bitter, melancholic, painful anthems about hate and revenge.

    I'll never forget him bitterly playing acoustic guitar on my parents' sofa, a long string of snot hanging out of his nose, my mother looking on in disgust.

    By Blogger Annie Rhiannon, at 9:51 PM  

  • Was it Gruff Rhys?

    I am very firmly of the opinion the best music is produced by misery.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 9:12 AM  

  • Gruff Rhys: phwoar. Wouldn't like to think of him with a long string of snot hanging out of his nose though.

    Anyway, the bloke at work - it gets worse! He's got veinage for christssake! Are we going to have to do a group e-mail to him? "Dear Veinage Man, we, the readers of Spinsterella, think you should get together with her so you can shag each other's brains out?"

    By Blogger Betty, at 9:43 AM  

  • Just wait Spinny - you'll be able to consign all the teenage-angst-ridden couplets scrawled on indecently stained jotter scraps to the pyre when you hear "Spinsterella"...

    Just think "Avalon" sung by the Small Faces having a row with The Electric Light Orchestra over whether Bev Bevan's drums are high enough in the mix....

    It'll melt your celibate heart.

    It's a belter!

    L.U.V. on ya,


    p.s. Liked the Grant-Lee song - he does do the oohs well, doesn't he?

    By Blogger Robert Swipe, at 11:04 AM  

  • Didn't someone once write 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' about someone else?

    It doesn't have to be a bad thing.

    (Sorry. TOTALLY unequipped to comment on matters pop-musicky.)

    WV! frzozits! Norwegian Acne Cure!

    By Blogger Mangonel, at 2:30 PM  

  • The comparing to a summer's day sonnet was written about a boy; whether it was an actual boy nobody knows. Most names have songs written about them - dunno if I'd like a song written about me in particular.

    By Blogger Billy, at 5:03 PM  

  • 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'

    You'd be wrong...

    By Blogger Robert Swipe, at 6:17 PM  

  • Most names have a song written about them indeed (such as C'mon Billy by the very fine PJ Harvey) EXCEPT MINE! And I have a very bog-common name.

    Speaking of 'oh's, I can't actually listen to GLB's 'The Shining Hour' on a portable device because there's an 'oh' on there that makes me weak at the knees EVERY TIME and my life's hard enough, I could do without a reputation for collapsing in the streets for no good reason.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 8:10 PM  

  • When I feel in a mood like you are at the mo',EVERY song is about me. Hence I can't listen to anything romantic (spesh. Roddy Frame) without moping around like a damp spaniel.

    And look at what I've got for a song with my name in it - one written by Gilbert O'Sullivan for a four-year-old.

    By Blogger Clair, at 10:34 PM  

  • no songs about me, but a hell of a lot of songs BY me that ended up being played all over Portland by every Led Zeppelin/ELP/Heart wannabe loser band.
    considering i wrote them when i was seventeen, knowing that those ass clowns played them in public is revenge enough. they were exactly what you'd expect of a 17 year old chubby girl with depression (before goth, that is)

    By Blogger First Nations, at 11:16 PM  

  • 'Billy, don't be a hero'.

    Boy, schmoy, who cares, it was LURVE.

    By Blogger Mangonel, at 12:54 AM  

  • Ah, but my name isn't really Billy... I've not found any songs about my actual name, so I just claim the Billy ones.

    By Blogger Billy, at 8:13 AM  

  • *kaff kaff* I knew that. *kaff*

    By Blogger Mangonel, at 11:14 AM  

  • I used to think that Warren Beatty would have liked the fact that 'You're So Vain' was written about him. Even though it's hardly complimentary, it demonstrated that he still had an emotional hold over Carly Simon.

    Then I started going out with a musician, who ripped me to shreds through the medium of song (albeit in an affectionate way).

    I don't think that about Warren Beatty anymore

    By Anonymous 100 Words, at 1:20 PM  

  • or in spin's case, "you're so vein."

    (sorry, i just don't have anything intelligent to contribute just now.)

    By Blogger Chaucer's Bitch, at 1:51 PM  

  • I'm surprised nobody has mentioned this possibility. Have you ever gone out with anyone from Dead & Alive"?

    You spin me right round, baby
    Right round like a record, baby
    Right round, round, round
    You spin me right round, baby
    Right round like a record, baby
    Right round, round, round

    By Blogger Murph, at 2:18 PM  

  • I do have a song!

    Cheers Murph.

    FN - you're a songwriter too? Sheesh.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 7:04 PM  

  • I used to love Grant Lee Phillips, but now I find him irritating. Perhaps it's the hyphen?

    I've had two songs written about me, and they weren't bad. The poem, though, that was terrible. It rhymed and ended with a pledge to love me "4-EVA." I realized that I must have been drinking very (very very) heavily to have ever gone out with the guy and promptly broke up with him.

    By Blogger Sassy Sundry, at 7:32 PM  

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