Sonja Turbot: Existential Investigator, Page 7
I went to university with a woman named Amber. I’m going to tell you two things about her: first of all, she had the most impressive mohawk I had ever seen. On those occasions when she put it up she often had trouble getting through doors. That’s how unbelievably awesome it was.
The second thing about Amber is that she’d always ask me what I was listening to on my walkman. Usually she’d express at least mild interest in whatever it was, talk about music for a bit, and that’d be that.
On the odd chance that I was listening to the Jesus and Mary Chain, though, something altogether different would happen. “How can you listen to that?”, she’d ask. “It’s horrible… sleazy… wrong…” Then she’d unleash a disapproving eyebrow twitch that still haunts me to this day.
At the time I didn’t know whether I should feel ashamed or proud that my choice of music squicked out someone with green hair. In the end, I settled for a little of both. Anyhow, this has all been a leadup for a set of The Jesus and Mary Chain, one of my favorite bands despite their sleazy wrongness… possibly because of their sleazy wrongness.
Plus, one video of The Pixies singing a JAMC song.
) Your Reply...