Welcome to “if I only had an iPod…” The second installment in an occasional series where visiting authors drop by the blog to test drive my iPod.
Here authors get a chance to show off their musical know-how, while the Happy Booker gets a few new tunes to add to her download list. It’s a win-win—well, mostly a win for me, but you can listen in… (and when all your friends are raving about some great new book, you’ve got the inside scoop on what the author is singing in the shower—remember, you read it here first!)
Today’s guest DJ is longtime friend from the way back machine, someone I can honestly say, “I knew her when…”
Joshilyn Jackson is a kick-ass first-time novelist who broke into the Book Sense list this month, topping the charts in the number one slot with gods in Alabama. Her book is a fast-paced rollicking good read, and I am not just saying that because Glamour magazine fawned all over it this month. In fact, check out what the stolid upstanding folks at the Library Journal said in their starred review: "Forget steel magnolias—meet titanium blossoms in Jackson's debut novel, a potent mix of humor, murder, and a dysfunctional Southern family." See what I mean?
So here she is, my old old pal...
Joshilyn Jackson, novelist and guest DJ, in her own words:
I might be the last person you’d want running off with the keys to your ipod, because in my circle it is universally acknowledged that I am dead inside. I have said, out loud, in public, “I don’t like songs.” But I guess that’s not true. I do like songs, I just don’t like music. Every now and again, an individual song will appeal to me and I’ll play it over and over even after I become indifferent, only stopping when loathing sets in. Right now, I have a humiliating fondness for grabbing the HOT HITS OF THE 80’s CD I picked up in a gas station for $1.99 and putting Come On, Eileen on endless repeat. I belt along with it even though the only words I know are “Come on, Eileen” and “We are much too young and clever.” I bob up and down and hum during the other parts, repeat, repeat, repeat, until my husband tries to pull out all the working parts of his inner ears so he can throw them on the ground and stamp on them. I cannot in good conscience recommend that you put Come On, Eilene on your ipod, but here are some good songs I have become obsessed with in the past:
1) P.J. Harvey – “Sheela-Na-Gig” -- I liked this song so much, my band covered it. Yes, I was in a band. Just because a person can’t play a musical instrument or carry a tune and doesn’t really like music doesn’t mean they can’t get in a band. If you are in graduate school, own at least two pairs of torn fishnet stockings and drink a lot, someone will let you front for them. And this is a fantastic song to cover because it’s fun to sing like PJ Harvey except minus the talent. Plus you get to pause dramatically and shriek, “YOU EXHIBITIONIST,” quite a lot of times. Heck, it’s fun even if you aren’t in a band. Shriek along!
2) Basement Jaxx – “Romeo”— I like everything these guys do. Period. I had a hard time picking just one Jaxx song. I am an endorphin junky and the Jaxx will get your butt moving. I also like anything they’ve remixed. They leave a song better off than it was when they got to it; listen to the Jaxx’s double-funked version of N.E.R.D.’s She Wants to Move and then see if any other version doesn’t sound flatter than Skipper.
3) Letters to Cleo – “Here and Now” — This is the ponytail girl-rocker equivalent of rap, which means you should never, never, never pick it at a karaoke bar unless 1) you already can say all the lyrics backwards in your sleep and 2) you are sober. Because there is this one very fast wordy part in the chorus and you will end up standing there warbling, “Um, la la. Um, la la. Heh,” in a panicky falsetto. Ask me how I know.
4) Carbon Leaf – “Mary Mac” – A popped-up remake of a traditional Irish folksong that appeals like crazy to my potato-covered genomes.
5) Morrissey —“Girlfriend in a Coma”— If you are in the arts at all, you are morally obligated to like Morrissey. I think they take your card away if you don’t.
Happy Listening!
What I want to know is why we've never partied? Has THB been keeping us apart?
Posted by: yve | April 13, 2005 at 09:33 AM
I thought I heard PJ Harvey blasting through the windows. Suddenly I feel angry and empowered and ready to kick butt. Probably I shouldn't leave the house today...
Posted by: booksquare | April 13, 2005 at 12:28 PM
Sheela-Na-Gig may be the perfect karaoke song, I think.
Posted by: Ron | April 13, 2005 at 01:17 PM
I'm glad somebody else out there recognizes the genius of Crowded House.(it was crowded house wasn't it?) I loved the video where the lead singer wore bibs sans a shirt.
Posted by: robyn | April 13, 2005 at 03:07 PM
Right about the shirtless wonders, wrong on the name-- It was Dexy's Midnight Runners:
"These people round here wear beaten down eyes
Sunk in smoke dried faces
They're so resigned to what their fate is
But not us, no not us
We are far too young and clever.."
I heart the 80's ( perhaps a little too much!) -- THB
Posted by: Happy Booker | April 13, 2005 at 04:20 PM
A female friend of mine, upon being forced to listen to Strangeways Here We Come for the too manyeth time, said she couldn't understand why she didn't like Morrissey. A male friend responded, because you're not a lonely teenage boy. Girlfriend in a Coma is a great choice.
And go ahead, put the Runners on that sucker. Take Robyn's advice and put on some Crowded House too, but only if it's from one of the albums Tim Finn is not a part of - he added a bit too much lounge to the act.
Enjoy,
Posted by: Dan Wickett | April 13, 2005 at 07:08 PM
You can hear authors do this audibly on Pinky's Paperhaus, the weekly internet radio show with sassy music and writers who rock. Past guests include Neal Pollack and Mark Sarvas; coming up are Meghan Daum and Tod Goldberg. There are podcasts and archives, too. Happy Booker, you want to come by for a spin?
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