The other day, J (my 11 year old- holy cow) and I were cruising in the blue car. The blue car is my husband’s ride. It has no XM (Gasp!) and is full of burned CDs that are works in progress of his…awesome, but not necessarily good cruising music.
So I dug a CD from under the passenger seat, the only one I could find with an actual label on it. It was The Smiths’ “Hatful of Hollow”. Back in the day, I only knew one Smiths fan more hardcore than me. If you went to SV High School, you know exactly who I’m talking about. Smiths shirts for at LEAST every day of the week, and a Morrissey complex to boot. But I was no slouch- I painted the words to Paint a Vulgar Picture on my bedroom wall, to my mother’s chagrin. And of course, wore all black. Duh.
When I heard the opening lines to “William, It was really nothing…” I remembered what I’ve always loved about the Smiths. Their juxtaposition of happy, upbeat pop hooks with some of the most morose lyrics ever to warble from an androgynous mouth. Johnny Marr provided such a contrast to Morrissey that the songs took on a whole different meaning…more ironic then despondent.
But J wasn’t having it…especially when Morrissey went into a rather frightening falsetto at the end of “What Difference does it Make?” He shuddered. “Is that still a guy? What are they DOING to him?”
In an effort to bring him around, I said, “This is Johnny Marr’s old band…you know, the guitar player from Modest Mouse.” Because he is nothing if not a MM fan. He considered. “So this is like, old music.”
“Umm, yeah. This is from when I was in high school.” He recoiled, as apparently that’s a time so remote as to jar his circuitry.
“Oh! I get it! So this is like, the grandfather of Emo.” Hmmm. As much as I hate to admit that music that’s still fresh to me is the grandfather of anything, sometimes kids can hit it right on the head.
So what were you in high school? Goth? Punk? Metalhead? A CHEERLEADER??? No judgments here, just spit it out.
And if you’re in the DC area, my elementary school cohort Amanda Kleinman’s band The Apes is opening for the Butthole Surfers at the 9:30 Club. I sadly won’t be there, as weeknight late night babysitters are a scarce commodity, but go rock out in my stead if you can.
xoxox, L
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