I am one of those people who resists technology out of pure pretentiousness. I didn’t get a cell phone for years because I didn’t want to be “one of those people who has a cell phone.” It was an attitude best expressed in Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections. Now that I have a cell phone, I enjoy the convenience, although not the bills.
The IPOD I just purchased is different. I’ve had it for two days and it has improved my self-esteem immeasurably. (The cell phone wasn’t able to do that, because I sometimes have to use it in the car — bad, I know — and there’s no way to have a high self regard when driving an ’87 Honda with only three functioning doors and a layer of dog and horse hair an inch thick throughout even if one is holding a cell phone that doubles as a camera and a guided missile system. It simply can’t be done.)
When I wear the IPOD, however, and I’m out of range of my car, I like to think I have the look of someone who might drive a new car. Something sporty and/or fuel efficient. With my IPOD on, I look like someone who might drive a scooter or better: someone who might not even own a car but instead rides everywhere on a very expensive bicycle. A cool person, in other words.
The little blue wafer has caused me to start thinking about music again in a way that I haven’t for years. For instance, yesterday I decided that of the 105 songs I’ve loaded on it so far, my three favorites are Radiohead’s I Might Be Wrong, P.J. Harvey’s Dress, Liz Phair’s Divorce Song.
I Might Be Wrong is similar to the IPOD in that listening to it makes me feel cooler than I really am. Also, when I’m walking the dog, as I was yesterday, it makes me walk all funny. With heavy heels and a lurch. I know that doesn’t sound particularly attractive, but for some reason it feels really good. Also, the song gives me the urge to wear a Matrix-style long overcoat. As luck would have it, I just got one. Thank goodness! I now think of the coat as my listening to Radiohead outfit. Which would probably horrify Radiohead.
Dress is the song that inspired the white dress scenes in Alice MacLeod, Realist at Last. It also rocks in a way that is completely smart and modern, which kind of describes P.J. Harvey herself. I once gave a music criticism workshop to some teens and, when I played this song for some of the attendees, one churlish young woman said it sounded like P.J. Harvey should have been “killed at birth”. Given the charmless, Top-40-loving personality of the speaker, I was confirmed in my love of the song.
Divorce Song is the best break-up song in the world. And, as we all know, break-up songs are themselves the best songs in popular music. The most therapeutic. Used to be that Love Hurts by Nazareth was my favourite break-up song, but time passes, people grow.
Okay. Back to loading songs onto my new best friend…