Feeling: Fluffy. It's to do with the hair.
Listening to: The computer buzzing. forgot my CDs.
Reading/Watching: Dom. He is a cutie.

Why must I pry? I'm terrible. I wonder something, and then I ask a question, and then I sprout my idiotic psychobabble until I alienate even the best of my friends.

Some scabs aren't meant to be clawed at, my friends.

I'm sorry, Lala.

I have decided the method behind my odd musical tastes. Most everyone I know likes three or four of the groups I do, but never the same three or four, and there are always a few I love that they can't stand.

I'm a trans-genre girl, and it was difficult for me to explain why I wasn't big on some songs, and adored others to little pieces. I love alternative, old rock, country, blues, jazz, classical, some world music, some indie rock, some (*some*, a very small some) dance music, some R&B.

Cannot stand rap or hip-hop, curl my lip at heavy metal, have scorn for most techno. Tolerance, but no respect for most pop. Can appreciate a good set of pipes, even if I have no patience for the style he or she sings in.

Here is what it boils down to: Hemingway.

Some people adore him. Some people hate him. He is the bare bones writer. But he is good at bare bones. Other people have to make writing intricate to get a semblance of appeal, which frankly turns my stomach. Over-ornate only works if the bare-bones are good underneath. Adjectives and hyperbole cannot save you if your nouns and verbs are crap.

It's the same with music. If you must improve every song with echo machines, sound samplings, huge arrays of instruments, dance routines, heavy beats, and/or the removal of clothing, then the bare bones better be pretty damn good otherwise nothing will save you.

I flipped through my CD collection. Every single one of those artists has at least one song where it's just one voice, with one instrument. No harmony, no symphony, no sound board. Every single one.

Doesn't mean I don't like layers, don't like complex songs. I love when Dave Matthews Band has a million things going on at once. But when it's just Dave and his acoustic, it's still great. My favorite song by R.E.M. incorporates a string section and an oboe. But Michael Stipe is still beautiful with just him and his piano.

Can you strip your music down to nothing and still have it fascinate you? Could Britney or P. Diddy keep the crowd mad for them if you simply handed them a microphone and a guitar?

Didn't. Think. So.

Jeff Buckley had dozens of personal recordings, where he took his crappy-ass tape recorder and sat down with a guitar and a small amp, and played songs he was working on. After he died, the studio folks found them and made them into a second CD as a companion to his fully-produced sophomore effort.

The sound quality is terrible. There are no special effects, no backup singers, nothing but what he had already recorded himself (because obviously they couldn't call him into the studio for another take).

It is riveting.

Can your musician do that?

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