Confessions of a Rock Snob
So last night I’m flipping channels and finding nothing on the digital cable, per usual. That is, except for the endless reruns of SNL on Comedy Central. Who happens to be the musical guest?
As some of you know, I have this thing for her. I am ashamed of this, I don’t want to like her music, I do find it trite, but damn it if I don’t stop to listen every time I hear any of the four singles from Jagged Little Pill.
Even worse, I find Alanis hot.
I have been trying to figure this out all day now, why I am so suckered by a second-rate Tori Amos, who is herself but a pale imitation of Joni Mitchell. Oddly enough, Jewel didn’t take me down this path of adoration; despite her greater physical charms, she makes me entirely indifferent. While I do like the music of Four Non Blondes, it’s not quite the same; there’s no crush, no warm fuzzy feeling like I get when I imagine Alanis with her hand in my pocket.
Once I had a crush on a girl I worked with. She was neither pretty nor smart nor particularly talented. But some odd blend of quirkiness, a nice smile, and her ridiculous pretension led me to get all silly about her. With Alanis, I find myself in a similar emotional state. So maybe what I can draw from this is that I have secret crushes on pretentious females with cute smiles—but there is a broader issue. Forget Alanis the woman. I still like her music, a lot.
Despite knowing it’s bad, Alanis’ music seems to subvert my intellect and strike at some music receptor that’s not connected to my brain. And not in the kitschy way. Alanis is not so good because she’s so bad. She’s bad and I like her anyway.
Must I now quit GloNo in shame? Should I just give in and buy the Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back DVD? Advice anyone?