I’ve been on the lookout for some ideas for a new hairstyle, and I think I might go with this look. It’s classy and timeless. I think that in 20 years these kids will never look back in a haze of shame a regret and wonder why they let themselves be talked into having troll doll hair. No, they will look back and think: “That is a great hairstyle. It looked great then, and it looks great now since I STILL have that haircut because it’s THAT timeless.”
Well, I caved in and got a haircut. Not so much because everyone I asked told me to, but because I can’t wear hats to work anymore and that is half the fun of longer hair. It seems like I got it really short (I like to get my $9.99 worth at Dollar Cuts), and my reaction probably is similar to girls who get about two inches cut off their hair, and then cry about it for three days.
Here is me trying to hide my shame with a bandanna:
Anyways, for some reason they didn’t put my Carrie Underwood review in the online version of the paper (maybe I was a bit too rough on her, I mean a C+ is pretty harsh after all) so here it is in all it’s unedited glory (bonus points if you can catch the Simpson’s reference):
Carrie Underwood’s new album not so original
The fifth song on Carrie Underwood’s new album is called “Get out of this town” and it sounds eerily similar both in melody and content to “Work” by Jimmy Eat World. Both songs woo potential lovers with a promise to “get out of this town” (Jimmy Eat World warns, “While we still have time”) and both feature girly back up singers and catchy choruses propelled by fuzzy guitar lines. This similarity highlights what has been country music’s modus operandi for the past decade: slick production and a middle of the road pop rock aesthetic. While country pioneers wrote songs in a more simple folk inspired style, the music coming out of Nashville today is sometimes indistinguishable from current top 40 rock acts. (Can you barely make out a slide guitar in the background? Then it’s probably a country song.)
All of this doesn’t really matter though when it comes down to it, since Carrie Underwood is only the latest in a long line of blunt instruments wielded by the Nashville zeitgeist. While Ms. Underwood’s voice is undeniably strong, she tends to make for her lack of personality by blowing through the choruses with histrionic power when perhaps some restraint is in order. Current mega-hit “So small” reaches power ballad territory when Underwood hits the high notes, no doubt sending girls everywhere on a mad dash to set it as their MySpace song/make their boyfriends listen to it/burn a CD of it for their best friends/suggest it for their prom theme. Taken as an album however, “Carnival Ride” is fatiguing with its constant mountainous climaxes and Underwood’s tendency to belt out every other line.
It is hard to find fault with the song craft since Ms. Underwood (plus her team of song writers) have wrought 13 arena-ready songs with huge, soaring, choruses and crystal clear pop production. While she already sold 6 million albums with her debut “Some Hearts” there is no reason “Carnival Ride” can’t surpass this, making Underwood the most popular “American Idol” winner of all time. As it stands now, you will all be hearing this album incessantly for the next six months, so why not just give in, slide on down to the Wal-Mart, and get it over with. I for one welcome our new country-pop overlords.
Just one more thing, I promise. I was talking to my roommate Chris the other day, about how 90% of the people I know who have blogs are married. It’s just one of those things you do once you get married, like quilting, or learning how to use a stud finder. So then the following conversation took place:
Chase: Yeah, blogs are just myspace for married people. That way they can post pictures of their kids and weekend bridge parties and not feel like a thousand pervs are going to be looking at them.
Chris: Well, blogs are for married people and guys who think they are really funny and creative, and who really believe other people actually want to read what they say.
Chris: The truth hurts.
Chase: I don’t think I’m that funny.