Well, that’s it. They’ve had a crack team working tirelessly, day in, day out, 24/7 to decode it. And now it’s finally happened. They have successfully mapped a complete human musical genome. That being mine.
They have collected just the right amount of data from hours upon hours of thumbs ups and thumbs downs and dozens upon dozens of Vista Print advertisements congratulating me for being specially selected to receive 200 free business cards. What kind of business do I have? Someplace where I listen to Pandora all fucking day and they don’t print me my own fucking business cards, that’s where.
LIke any good scientist, they started with the fundamentals. A Bon Iver song on the Bon Iver station. Okay. Then, they mixed it up a little and threw in a one-hit wonder from a few years back. Thumbs-up? Great. Let’s keep going then.
How about what used to be referred to in the record biz as a “B-side”? Still good?
What about an even more obscure song that topped out at #18 on the Billboard charts in the early 2000s, that you never liked, but it’s just so familiar, and you haven’t heard it in so long, that nostalgia alone moves you to act? Thumbs up again, huh? Excellent.
And before you know it, they are reading me as clearly as lgvrdlmnqvtthequickababmfxlqbrownfox. They know to play a track because it features pop rock qualities, a subtle use of vocal harmony, repetitive melodic phrasing, extensive vamping, major key tonality, melodic songwriting, electric guitar riffs, a good dose of acoustic guitar pickin’, a dynamic male vocalist, acoustic rhythm guitars, romantic lyrics and many other similarities identified in the Music Genome Project.
Why sugar-coat it? Why not just come out and say that you are playing this track because it features abandonment issues, an undercurrent of self-loathing, and because I seem like kind of a whore? Fuck you, genomenologists, or whatever they call you. Geophysicists? Geometrators?
Ohhh, geneologists. Right.
But a girl IS LIKE A SUNBURN. I would like to say. I don’t know what it means, but she’s just like a fucking sunburn, okay?
And, yes, I DO like that band Everclear. Specifically, the song “Santa Monica,” which reminds me of the time we saw Jamie Walters, aka, Mr. “How Do You Talk to an Angel,” at the food court in the Santa Monica mall. (How about you start by not throwing her down the stairs, eh, Ray?) And then we went to a party in Pomona and I puked corn chips out the window on the highway.
Now the question is, what are they going to do with this knowledge?
We need only look to the past for the answer. Decoding my musical chromosomes may be cutting edge science, but there is an historical precedent for how this plays out. Sometime in the future, I expect to pay 5 easy installments of $9.95 to own all of these hits in a single fucking collection.
LISTEN TO THE SONGS:
UGH! Why did I put all that Huey Lewis on my iPod?