The Hella Good Exception

Bubs, We're fairly close in age, and I believe we have similar sensibilities about some things... and I discovered No Doubt a few years ago (after I had already tuned out terrestrial pop, too), because of the spawn-of-Satan woman I was with--who broke my heart into a thousand pieces (you get the idea)--whose musical sensibilities used to drive me up a wall. (She actually made me download and listen to such songs as "A Puro Dolor," by Son by Four, "If You're Not the One," by Daniel Bedingfield and a host of other similar three-minute torture sessions of drivel.

One day she had me listen to "Underneath It All," by No Doubt. And I don't know what it was about that song, but it hooked me. Satan (the woman I am talking about) loved to dance. I can't dance, even if you spot me the white man's overbite, but she could even get me moving to that song (and she really could move), and for a week, I couldn't get it out of my head. I was listening to it over and over again. It caused me to download a bunch of other No Doubt songs and *gasp* I loved them (I have MAJOR thing for Gwen Stefani anyhow). I think I was hooked for good when I heard No Doubt's remake of "It's My Life." Now, I know there has been a lot of debate about this. The original Talk Talk version may be the most perfect song of my generation. I love it. And normally, when someone tries to mess with perfection--a movie remake that has no business being done, for example--I am the first in line throwing rotten fruit. But something about Gwen Stefani singing Talk Talk REALLY, REALLY (I have I mentioned "really"?) does it for me. I have had this discussion with a bunch of friends who hate the remake, so I don't expect anyone to understand. But I could listen to that remake (as well as the original) all day long. The remake has a bit of a more upbeat feel.

As an aside, of all the songs Satan made me listen to and download, the funniest one may have been R. Kelly's Ignition Remix. This is how whipped I was... I can't say I actually liked it, and every time I listened to it, I couldn't help but think of R. Kelly, a minor and a colostomy bag, but I associated the song with the hottest woman (apparently Satan can disguise himself and make himself look like a hot woman) on earth, and her singing the words "toot toot," with her cute little accent (which I have come to learn was really Satan's voice disguised as a Siren's song) that I couldn't describe if I tried. So I kept the song on my iPod, and knew it just wasn't working one day when I was on the subway, it came on randomly, I turned up the volume and it was loud enough so it was leaking from my headphones. When I got to the "toot toot" and "beep beep," I was moving around like only a white man with no sense of rhythm can gyrate, and these black high school kids (harmless, but doing their best to look like gangbangers) took one look at me and burst out laughing. I knew it was time to purge that song from my iPod. Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to purge the relationship. But the one good thing she left me with was No Doubt, and in my case--as in yours--that is nothing to apologize for.

 

This very well might be true, but as most people who know me will attest to, I have no business ever dancing like I am in the throes of an epileptic seizure while singing the words, "So baby gimme dat 'toot toot'... and lemme give ya that 'beep beep'...runnin' her hands through my fro'...bouncin' on twenty fo's..."

I actually liked the song. It's why I kept it, unlike, most of the crud she hit me with (she liked anything poppish that had bad syrupy lyrics, which she would inevitably attach some sort of poetic meaning to). Our common ground was old R&B... Anything from Marvin Gaye to Otis Redding to Al Green to Etta James, and we were OK. It should have amazed me that a woman with such shyte taste in music could appreciate that stuff... she was really keen to stuff her parents listened to when she was growing up, though.