Britpop and Attention

I was getting my laptop fixed at The Mud House a few weeks ago when one of the owners he liked my article about the Dresden Dolls show.

“Uhhhhhhh,” I said, because I am a genius at wordsmithing.

“Or maybe that wasn’t you,” he said.  “I thought it was you.”

“You know, if someone out there is paying me to write articles, that’s terrific.  I’m just not aware of it if they are.”

“Hey, Casey,” he said, enlisting the opinion of the other owner.  “Did she write that article, or was it that other girl who looks like her but isn’t her?”

Casey looked up.  “That’s Erin,” she said.

“I know that’s Erin, but did she write the article?”

“Yeah,” Casey said, “The one on your blog.”

Ohhhhhhh, I thought, both relieved to understand what the hell was going on and thrilled to be talked about like I wasn’t there for a second (seriously, it hardly ever happens so I still think it’s great).

Then Casey said that Paige Brubeck from Sleepy Kitty (the one whose voice I claimed to envy and would punt a baby to have) had actually come across it first and told Casey she had to read it.  So she did, and told Jeremy about it, and everyone liked it because a) it was (rightfully) complimentary of both The Mud House and Sleepy Kitty, and b) I am clearly awesome.

Shameless self-promotion aside, I’d like to point out a couple of things: First, I am not the kind of sycophant who gets all moist in the pants when anyone who is even remotely well-known in local circles reads this blog.  I mean, it’s cool when the creative people I like find and are into my writing, but that’s the extent of my ego boner.  I’m into appreciation, not attention.

Second, I have been on the opposite side of attention before.  Internet stalkers are one thing, but when they start stalking you in real life, shit gets intense.  I’m aware that putting myself on the Internet makes me available to anyone who happens to read this, and that my repeated use of the word “fucking” makes me even more so.  However, I am not famous.  I’m never onstage, I don’t contribute to Salon, and most of the people who follow me on Twitter are either into showing their boobs to strangers or selling Chinese vitamin supplements (or are named “jesuswasafaggot,” which, I mean, I’m an atheist, but really?).  I do all right, but I’m no star.  SO when some past readers got attached to the point of approaching me in public and expecting hourlong conversations, it was fucking weird.  It took me an embarrassingly long time to learn this, but I attract enough crazy people in real life.  I have no business broadcasting my whereabouts on the Internet.

Right, so the point is that while it’s very cool to have readers for the right reasons, I’m not a freak about it because there’s a fine line between cool and strange, and I have crossed it enough times already.

Last week, I received a Facebook friend request from The Brothers Lazaroff*, one of the bands I put on my last playlist.  With the request was a message alluding to the theme of the playlist, which means they read the blog.  I don’t know how they (or Paige, from before) found me, but it’s nice that they did.  Not creepy.  Not weird.  Not stalker.  Not desperately searching for attention or recognition on my part.  Just nice.

I thought you should know that even though I didn’t put them on this playlist.  The timing of this playlist might seem a little early, but tonight is the first of several Christmas parties I am required to attend.  It’s a cocktail/bring your own appetizer thing at a house full of expensive modern furniture.  My appetizer is chaat.  This whole night is going to be such a white person thing to do, but whatever.  At least we’re not in the South and doing something else with our time.

Anyway, this list isn’t entirely Christmas-y, but hopefully it’s enough as you’re driving to all the places you’re obligated to be this holiday season.

It’s Beginning To Look Like a Mildly Britpop Christmas

A Cowboy’s Work Is Never Done, Sonny and Cher
Fairytale in the Supermarket, The Raincoats
High Divin’ Motherfucker, Local H
I’m So Free, Lou Reed
Angel Baby, Rosie and the Originals
Sea Diver, Mott the Hoople
Things, The Early Years
Empty Shell, Cat Power
Rave On, M. Ward
French Navy, Camera Obscura
Thank You For Sending Me An Angel, Talking Heads
Mysteries, Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Shoplifting, The Slits
So Messed Up, The Damned
Wolf Like Me, TV On The Radio
Alex Chilton, The Replacements
Bang Bang You’re Dead, Dirty Pretty Things
Get Yo Shit, Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears
With a Girl Like You, David Sitek
Los Angeles Waltz, Razorlight
Sh’Boom, The Chords
Winds of Change, Fitz and the Tantrums
The Weight She Fell Under, Parenthetical Girls
Caroline, Yes, The Kaiser Chiefs
Late At Night, Buffalo Tom
End In Flames, Strand of Oaks
János vs. Wonderland, Tristan Allen ft. Amanda Palmer
Agnus Dei, Barber (performed by the Oxford English Choir)

 

* Because the good local bands deserve all the attention they can get, I recommend checking them out on whatever music download site where you actually pay for songs instead of stealing them.  (If I were one of those famous bloggers, I’d know how to compress all of the songs into an actual audio file with a fancy play button so you could listen here, but like I said, I’m nothing special.)

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
This entry was posted in Playlists, The Internet is My Boyfriend, The Pop Life, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Britpop and Attention

  1. Becky says:

    First of all, have random people really approached you after reading you blog? That’s so weird. Secondly, nice choice on the Buffalo Tom song.

    • erineph says:

      Yes, they have. Back in Ye Olde Olde Blog days when I thought just my friends were reading, I’d tell people when I’d be bartending or if I was going out. Bad Internet mistake. The worst was when some guy (whose sister had been blog stalking me because we’d dated the same person or something) showed up at a bar when I was working and drank Coke for like an hour. Yeesh.

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