Love: The Metamorphosis
21 Things I Want in a Lover - Alanis Morrissette (mp3)
Cigarette Lighter Love Song - Marvelous 3 (mp3)
"When I first moved here, I wanted a guy with looks, security, who's caring, someone with their own place, someone who said bless you or gesundheit when I sneezed, you know, and someone who liked the same things as me but not exactly. Someone who loves me." .... "(Now I'd settle for) Someone who says gesundheit when I sneeze. Although I prefer 'Bless you.' It's nicer." -- Bridget Fonda, Singles
The other day, I was listening to a song that has become one of my favorite love songs when something occurred to me that hadn't before. What would I think of this song if I was 12 again? I would think the adult me was the most depressed romantic on the planet, and I'd also probably think the song just sucked.
So I started thinking back to what I considered my favorite love songs over time. And holy shit if it's not scary how drastically my notion of romance, love, warm fuzzies have changed over the last 27 years.
This is prolly a big No Duh moment for everyone else. I was 35 when I discovered they were called "chest of drawers" rather than "Chester Drawers," as in drawers invented by some dude named Lionel Chester (You know, like Thomas Crapper), so I've had plenty of short bus moments.
But for me, it's something of a minor revelation to realize that the general tone and approach of my preferred love songs have gone through several metamorphoses over the years.
These lists are extremely oversimplified, 'cuz I'm kind of rewriting history to suit my memory of it all. Hell, I've confessed on a previous blog incarnation that I spent four months listening to nothing but "King of Pain" by the Police and most of Achtung Baby by U2 just 'cuz my sweet first college girlfriend dumped me.
I'm pretty sure she dumped me because I made her a mixtape that had both "Love & Affection" by Nelson and "Everything I Do (I Do it for You)" by Bryan Adams on it. And let's be honest: I can't think of a better damn reason to break up with someone. Those songs might have been good on a mixtape if we'd been in, like, EIGHTH GRADE, but for young horny college kids who know better?? Pathetic, Billy. Just pathetic.
In the end, I'm not sure if my love song standards have lowered or raised in 25 years. Maybe it's just called "maturation" or "wisdom." Maybe it's called silly youthful ideals that couldn't quite survive the test of time. Maybe it's called a midlife crisis. It doesn't feel like any of these, to be honest. But I don't wanna bleed all my musings here, 'cuz I've got songs to share. I'll go one phase at a time. Play along if you like. Psychoanalyze if you like.
Or just sit back and listen to some good (sometimes not), cheesy (sometimes sobering), music.