Issue Two, August 2002
Okay, I am showing my age. Apparently they are called "c.d's" now. This stands for "compact discs". But to me, they will always be "albums", despite the fact that I am reviewing a small, silver, shiny circle. And although the sound is better, for those of you that remember... wasn't there something thrillingly delicious about putting a needle to a record, and hearing the hiss as it connected with the groove? "C.d.'s" just don't contain that same atmosphere. And that is why I love alternative recording artist Aimee Mann. I think she knows that too, as she likes to play around with sound on her songs, often mixing in lines from movies or adding that discombabulated hiss to give you that feeling of nostalgia. Her songs have a sweet sadness and a sweet acidic quality that suck you in with a catchy melody but a sting in the lyrics will leave you breathless at her pure genius.
I stumbled onto Aimee Mann by
accident, in a local supermarket. Well, not the singer herself..
because then 
I would have been
beside myself. Obviously, it was her c.d. In a pile of discounts
going out for the miserly sum of $2. Needless to say, it was the
bargain of a lifetime, and ever since I have felt like sending
Ms Mann a cheque to make up the difference and profusely apologise
for the storeowner's stupidity in ever thinking her work was only
worth $2. But knowing my finances, the cheque would bounce. (And
indeed, I embarrassed to say that my preorder for her fifth album
has been declined by my maxed-out credit card). Yes, "I'm
With Stupid" is that good. I remembered a vague review I
had read in the Rolling Stone about Aimee Mann, and had placed
her on my mental list of artists to buy. Needless to say, it was
fate.
Normally, I would not gush this
much. But my friends can attest to how much I tried to push this
album upon them that summer. I quoted Aimee Mann lyrics for every
situation, so sure was I that both of our sardonic and wry (but
ultimately hopeful) natures were in tune. I wished I had musical
talent so that I too could inspire others. Aimee Mann was my muse,
much like Olivia Newton John was in Xanadu to that guy
who was in The Warriors. The song "Sugarcoated"
was as if Aimee had chronicled a friendship I had had with a deceptively
sweet person. "Superball" summed up my restless but
scared nature. "That's Just What You Are" was the soundtrack
to another screwed-up relationship. That is wh
o
Aimee Mann is to me: the soundtrack of my life. We all have one
artist who seems to be music in the background as we go about
the grind of daily living.
Yet strangely enough, this was the album that got Aimee Mann kicked off her record label. It would be years before she would end up releasing the followup "Bachelor No. 2" independently. In the meantime, however, came the soundtrack to the film Magnolia. The director Paul Thomas Anderson said that Aimee Mann was the perfect soundtrack to the lives of the characters, and if that is true, sign me a Prozac prescription now. But with this soundtrack Aimee finally got some long-deserved respect. Oddly enough, even from my friends who had turned up their noses previously.
Buy this album! Buy it now! And while you're at, do you want to preorder me Aimee Mann's "Lost In Space" on your credit card? You won't be sorry...
Aimee Mann Discography
(or should that now be c.d-ography?)
Make her the soundtrack to your life, too.