Monday, May 9, 2011
Plastic Modern Art
I miss the big stages I used to play on. I play a lot here in Nashville, but there's something tiresome about being the loudest thing to happen every night. I'm not as pretty, but I do it well. Country music doesn't understand sincerity anymore. It's depressing. I'm never going to sing a song about a freaking tractor because a tractor doesn't mean anything to me. In reality, it doesn't mean anything to most people. But regardless, someone wrote a song about a tractor so everyone in Nashville wrote a song about one. I'll never understand how so many people shape themselves to fit a common mold and still have the guts to call themselves original. It's plastic. Like parts off an assembly line, mass produced and duplicated to perfection they flood the streets with similar fashion, style and sound. That's cute, but I've heard it a thousand times. The girls here really like elastic pants. It's funny though, every woman over 40 has Wynona Judd hair, gaudy jewelry and heavy makeup, 30-40 wear blue jeans, boots and baggy tops and everybody else looks like little Taylor Swift clones in tiny dresses, cowboy boots/hats, faux curly hair and that whole fake Shirley Temple, I'm pretending to be way younger than I really am so I'm more marketable facade going on. It's great. I keep writing these duets. I can't begin to express how badly I want to find some adorable little southern belle to play them with. They're the saddest songs I've ever written. I write a lot of sad songs lately. They just feel right. Gary would say depressing isn't marketable, but polished marketability depresses me, so it works both ways. I miss my Tampa friends. We get along in a way I can't with anybody else. It's real. It's 11:11...faithless. I miss that girl. I keep thinking about her. She's happy, I guess. That's good. I'd rather her be miserable so I could save her life. I guess that's just my selfish superhero side coming out. I've been quiet a lot lately. I want something to happen. I kind of just want to be anywhere but this dingy cafe.