Radiohead

That's me. I'm one of those people, have been as long as I can remember, who always ALWAYS a song in their head. Even in my sleep. Sometimes it's the last song I heard (like right now, for instance, it's the chirpy little tune from the Farmville game on Facebook. I just harvested my squash and milked two cows. Cha-ching!) Sometimes it's a song that I have just latched on to and can't get enough of and will listen to over and over both on the iPod and in my head. And when I say over and over, I'm not kidding. It's a continuous loop in the neuron net of my sad little brain. It's just stuck. But more about that in a moment.
Sometimes it's embarrassing. I'll unconsciously do the head-bob to whatever beat is bashing around up there. When I was a personal trainer I had a client who was a local DJ on a popular morning show. When I'd work out with him he'd ask me at the beginning, "So what's playing today?" Luckily, most of the time it was something his station played. Sometimes not, and he'd give me endless crap about it.
I think my daughter might have the same issue. She's taking flute lessons, and has started whistling. Incessantly. Sometimes it's the song she's working on for flute, sometimes it's something from her playlist on the iPod, sometimes it's a tv show theme. So now I don't just have a song running over and over and over through my noggin; I have to hear the one in hers. Luckily, she's got pretty good tone. But usually, at some point at the end of the day I can't take it anymore and have to, with teeth clenched, say "Sweetie, let's give the whistler a rest, shall we?" And pour some more wine.

I've always had a somewhat eclectic music taste. I like a little bit of everything. The only exception is Heavy Metal and it's spawn (Speed Metal, Death Metal, those happy little sub-genres), which make me want to grab the nearest spoon and gouge my own eardrums out just to escape the screech-fest monotony of three cords and cheerful death, maiming and rape lyrics. Other than that, if a song is catchy, has a good beat and lyrics that make some sort of sense, I'll listen to it gladly.
I've mostly been a BritPop or Techno gal. In high school, I was one of the freaks not listening much to Poison or Def Leppard (although I must say that "Animal" is one of my all time favorite sexy songs), but instead combed the import bins at the record store when we ventured to Salt Lake. Give me some Roxy Music, Depeche Mode, Bow-Wow-Wow, UB40, English Beat, Dead or Alive, etc. They went well with the black clothes and pierced nose.
And, of course, there has always been Erasure. But that's another blog. Just suffice it to say, for this blog, that there have been hours-nay--DAYS worth of Andy Bell in my brain. Here's my favorite:



You're welcome. That particular diddy went round my brain for about six months. Non stop. Not exaggerating. I sort-of got over it after I met Mr. Bell.

I've always been a little snotty-proud of my eschewing Pop music in general. I've never heard, for example, a Miley Cyrus song. Or Britney Spears, at least on purpose. Who is Justin Timberlake, again? What's this Limp Bizkit everyone talks about? Why is it limp and could some Viagra help them?
So, I'm a little alarmed at the current track that is so entrenched in my head right now. She was another of the pop divas whom I had managed to avoid. But now, sigh, I not only spent $1.29 to get the song on my iPod, I even read her Wiki page. I watch the video over and over and over. I suddenly break out into step-ball-change while folding the laundry. It's in there and it's not budging.
I give you:
Beyonce.

Single Ladies

(Mrs. Jay-Z doesn't let her youtube videos embed. So click the link, then come back.)

I can't look away. How the hell does she do that with her hips without throwing her whole spine across the room? In those heels? And what does this say about my taste in music now? Am I going bubblegum in my old age?
Dunno.
But I likes this song. I'm going to go dance around the living room and try not to hurt myself. If you see me later in Costco doing the head bob, you'll know what's spinning in the radiohead.
*humming Uh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!*