Complex Numbers

Amusing Musical Musings

There's a line in one of my favorite webcomics. I can't find it in a text search, but it went something like, "My life is so depressing I don't know whether I was born or sung into existence by Morrissey."

PROMPT May 27th

If your life were a song, 1) what genre would it be, 2) who would sing it, and 3) would it be a hit?

Well, my life isn't that depressing. I mean, the only thing more depressing than a Morrissey song is a Leonard Cohen song, so that's a pretty low bar to clear. Cohen is, sadly, no longer with us, or I'd be tempted to pick him in response to the prompt. But no, I clear that bar with plenty of room to spare, even if, when looking at it from the outside, it might seem pretty sad. But I'm not usually sad, even if I'm not exactly brimming with ecstatic bubbles. No, I like my life too much to bring it to Morrissey.

As it is, I'd consider three scenarios: ideal, pessimistic, and nightmare.

Ideal scenario: 1) rock; 2) Springsteen and 3) Of course; Bruce deserves it even if I don't.

Pessimistic scenario, based on Just The Way My Luck Goes: 1) country; 2) William Shatner; and 3) of course not; it's William Shatner.

Incidentally, no, I don't hate country music, but you know how that genre goes: Mama stole my pickup truck, got drunk and drove in front of a lonesome train. I mean, no, none of that happened, but that's never stopped country singers. And of course Shatner is one of the worst singers in existence.

Nightmare scenario: 1) jazz; 2) anyone, out of key (okay, you got me: I can't name any jazz singers off the top of my head) and 3) Why start having jazz hits now?

It would also be wrong to say I hate jazz. The genre is so diverse that it's impossible to hate all of it. But I hate most of it. Whatever the next note should be, they always hit the exact opposite one. It annoys me very quickly and makes me want to smoke the devil's lettuce, just like they warned it would.

You know how they say when you play rock backwards, you sell your soul to the devil? I've also heard the joke that if you play country music backwards, you get back your dog and your pickup and you sober up.

Well, what do you get when you play New Age music backwards?

New Age music.

What do you get when you play jazz backwards?

Music.

Seriously, though, my life is nowhere near interesting enough to write a song about. I mean, I've been through a couple of divorces, suitable material for any genre of music, but I ended up with the house and car both times. No one's interested in a happy divorce story unless it involves some lady going to a foreign country to find herself in the arms of some tall exotic dude with a deep-voiced accent and a fifteen-inch schlong. I mean, really, how many movies have been made about that crap? I call it Divorce Porn, because it does for lonely, middle-aged housewives the same thing that porn does for perverts. And no one wants a story or song about a dude doing something similar, schlong or not.

Still, I'd bet Springsteen would find an angle or two in my life to write about, like maybe the times I made holy pilgrimages to Asbury Park, or drove my car fast on an empty road.

It'd never actually be a hit, though.