I Googled, thanks to a message from a fan of Darren Criss, and an apparent reader of mine. Good to hear from you. And thanks for your comment. Because of it, I did research Criss, and I found out he’s pretty good. Definitely worth a Google, and by the way, if he is gay (I didn’t follow any links far enough to find the answer), I apologize for saying a “gayly good song” in the previous post about Criss. I didn’t mean I thought he was gay, I was more referencing my enjoyment of a Katy Perry song called “Teenage Dream” covered by a person I then thought was the former contestant of a middle-of-the-road American Idol rip-off, and later found out, which did not make all matters much better, that he was from Glee.
I will never forget when I saw the Facebook status of my 15 year old cousin, who was probably 14 at the time, quote Beck’s “Loser” with the lyrics “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?”
I freaked. I thought she had found Beck.
I had found him around the same time actually, and have incredibly fond memories of listening to Guerro on repeat while getting ready to see friends during my freshman year of high school. I was living in my old house at the time, the one I shared with my old little family, my mom, my dad, our dog, and myself. My mom lives in her own place now with a new dog, I live in mine with a new dog in a different state, far, far away from theirs, and my dad lives in the house in which his new wife raised her three girls, my new step-sisters. I had been an only child before.
Things have changed a bit since then.
But I will never forget those innocent and unknowing days singing along to “Girl,” notably enjoying the sun pouring into my room in giant, palpable beams. They always formed this pattern on my carpet from being intercepted by the window’s large and multiple panes. I can’t describe it, but I’ll never forget it. I think I took a picture once, realizing their importance to me, but Lord knows where that’s gone. I’ve gotten another computer and a dozen other cameras since then. Not to mention the SIX different living situations that have subsequently appeared in my life, and that’s not counting summers in New York and Barcelona, and a month in Austin accompanied by such frequent visits from Dallas that I could give you directions for down there from up here.
Anyway, turns out she had no clue who Beck is. Rather, Glee had covered the song, and she had enjoyed it. It had never occurred to her to research who the original performer might have been. That’s too bad. I can understand how shows like Glee can be argued for as good from a musical perspective, since they portray a wide variety of involvements, all in a positive light. Such a positive light that 1 out of 10 little girls around the age of 13 have gotten singing coaches and believe, mostly because of their parent wishful encouragement, they are well on their way to a big-time record deal. In Glee’s defense, they showcase actual talent. It’s the Ashlee Simpson’s of the world I wish would not exist. Ha damn, remember Ashlee Simpson? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that actually dates me. I can’t think of a current pop star polluting the air. I clearly do not listen to enough radio. That is on purpose.
Alright. It’s an insane hour. I am insane.