April 12, 2013 by kitcac
This evening’s commute was mainly sponsored by the sounds of the tiny icon that is TAFKAP, the symbol, the artist formerly known as Prince.
I have very eclectic taste in music. Some people would substitute the word eclectic for the word “rubbish” but I think that I am the shizzle. I used to work on the music counter in Woolworths, so obviously I am most excellent. I can identify a Michael Bolton song from fifty paces.
The commute started with Swedish House Mafia. Stavros bought it for me for my birthday. I was very confused by it, I’d never heard of them. I rudely asked him “What on earth possessed you to by me that?”
Alas, deep down I am a raver. When JWop was in utero I went to Magaluf (hell yeah!) and he really enjoyed listening to Example and Calvin Harris and I could tell that he was especially into LMFAO. As my pregnancy progressed, he would do a Riverdance near my special place whenever Example was on the radio.
So when I started to listen to Swedish House Mafia, I got used to it. I got so used to it that I had to turn the volume up. And then I had to open the car windows. Why do we do that? Does the act of opening car windows convince us on some subconscious level that our ears aren’t being irreparably damaged by a million decibels of bass? (that is bass as in music, not fish)
Now I have it on a painfully loud volume level because it is excellent. I need to be cautious about volume though. I once forgot that I had a sleeping baby in the back when I was rocking out and thumping the steering wheel rhymically. It was only when he stirred and moved his rattle that I remembered I am someone’s mum and I shouldn’t be so dang cool any more.
And I certainly shouldn’t be raving in my car like some middle aged chav.
I was sat in traffic with Swedish House Mafia on when I became very self conscious about being a rave-loving loser with a Fireman Sam book on the passenger seat.
To get some kudos back, I switched SHM to Marvin Gaye.
This is cooooool. I love the song “Can I Get A Witness” as it reminds me of Deirdre and I dressing up in my mum’s clothes and tying our hair up in bandanas and dancing to all the Motown era greats – Marvin, Diana Ross and the Supremes, the Marvelettes, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas, oh heck I could go on all night!
The only problem with Can I Get A Witness is that the intro to the song sounds just like the theme tune to Sesame Street, so you really can’t look cool sitting in a queue of traffic with the dink dink dink dink dink intro of Sesame Street blaring out, even though you know it is actually good ole Marv.
After I’d reached the annoying bit where it goes skippy on Marvin’s CD, I switched to Prince, the tiny dirty little imp that he is.
He writes some extremely rude/disturbing things. Raspberry Beret is a fine example.
1. He’s working in a Five And Dime, which I expect is what us Chorley folk would probably call a Pound Shop.
2. Some girl walks in wearing a pink hat but the rest of her clothes are rather skimpy because its warm.
3. She walks in through the wrong door. I imagine her wearing her daft pink hat trying to pull open the door to the Pound Shop when it has a big sign on it saying PUSH. She basically makes a fool of herself. We’ve all done it.
4. Then Prince abandons his shift in the Pound Shop and they go on his bike (possibly a pushbike with stabilisers on it) to a farm where they do the rude thing.
Am I alone in thinking that this is very disturbing?
Then there is Little Red Corvette. Pure filth.
I skipped the tracks on my Prince CD tonight because I was driving behind a red sports car and I wanted to listen to Little Red Corvette and sing along very loudly, performing the song for my fellow road user. I sang it loud for all to hear.
Again, in Little Red Corvette our little chum Prince takes advantage of a girl who appears to need help from Social Services.
1. She parks her car sideways. This once happened to Stavros and the woman who tried to park her car next to him managed to damage five cars driving into a very wide space and ending up directly facing the driver’s door of the car next to her. The Little Red Corvette lady should probably report herself to the DVLA and do us all a favour.
2. She had a pocket full of used condoms. Seriously. Who the hell does that?!
3. She had had encounters with many jockeys and took photographs of them. That is just sick and I’m sure its some form of exploitation of the vertically challenged.
I started to feel a bit queasy thinking about all the jockey-bothering going on and I skipped to The Most Beautiful Girl In The World. I do a fabulous falsetto. Its so high that you have to be at least 10 feet away to hear it.
At the chorus, I was waiting at a roundabout near a bus stop. A lovely girl was waiting for a bus and she was wearing the style-du-jour: Ugg boots and clothes that were in fact pyjamas.
I was melodically singing “Could you be, could you be, the most beautiful girl in the world?” and she was gawping at me as if my singing was bad or something. So I shouted over to her and told her the truth –
“No, I don’t mean you, love – you look like you’re wearing your pyjamas in the street!”