Ok, here's the thing....I'm a musician, so, clearly, I love and am absolutely moved by music. One of my favorite singer/songwriters of all time is Ani DiFranco. Ani DiFranco is what some could and should call a musical genius. She writes all of her own songs and plays one hell of a mean guitar. Her songs are poignant and thought provoking and are written from experiences and from her soul. She's been offered numerous record deals with major companies, but refuses to give up her artistic integrity, and rather, chose to start her own label, Righteous Babe Records, so that she could stay true to her craft. She is one of my all-time favorite artists, and while listening to her tonight, it occurred to me, as it has occurred to me so many times in the past, that we are victims to the major record labels and the big money makers in the business. THEY determine what THEY think WE should be listening to, and rather than let REAL artists write REAL songs about REAL things and get any airtime, they let those who are advanced in the art of vocal vomit, lip-syncing and extreme studio magic to keep them from sounding like SHIT record and submit records that get more play on public radio than they deserve, meanwhile, real, true, talented and amazing musicians get their fans through word-of-mouth and by beating the pavement, touring and working their asses off. Seems a shame, doesn't it? So, today I've decided to pay homage to Ani DiFranco...and to suggest to any of you that have not heard her to try her out.
Grey
(by Ani DiFranco)
The sky is grey, the sand is grey, and the ocean is grey.
And I feel right at home in this stunning monochrome,
alone in my way.
I smoke and I drink and every time I blink, I have a tiny dream.
But as bad as I am, I'm proud of the fact that I'm worse than I seem.
What kind of paradise am I looking for?
I've got everything I want and still I want more.
Maybe some tiny, shiny key will wash up on the shore.
You walk through my walls like a ghost on TV
You penetrate me.
And my little pink heart is on it's little brown raft, floating out to sea.
And what can I say, but I'm wired this way, and you're wired to me.
And what can I do but wallow in you, unintentionally.
What kind of paradise am I looking for?
I've got everything I want and still I want more.
Maybe some tiny, shiny key will wash up on the shore.
Regretfully, I guess I've got three simple things to say.
Why Me?
Why this now?
Why this way?
The overtone's ringing, the undertow's pulling away,
under a sky that is grey on sand that is grey by an ocean that's grey.
What kind of paradise am I looking for?
I've got everything I want and still I want more.
Maybe some tiny, shiny key will wash up on the shore.
Ok...I'm done ranting....for NOW... :)
Blessings,
*~Wikid~*
