I officially now like Rob Thomas's "Lonely No More".
This is a song that previously tested my faith in Rob Thomas-- the poppy beat, the background chorus, the intense feeling that the video should feature a scrolling marquis of the words "Ricky Martin was here."
But a few thing have occured to me, the latter of the two occuring in quite a...unexpectedly intense way. The first is that the Latino influence of his wife, while once distasteful to me, is catchy. Infectious. During the moments where the lyrics are banal or absent, my body moves with it, my back arches, my arms climb above my head or trace the curves of my torso.
But, something that I had previously failed to see, this song has the Rob Thomas touch: the lyrics aren't always banal.
And when they are not, my body does something else.
My voice screams the words "So when you tell me that you love me, know for sure."
And as my mind comprehends what I'm screaming about, my body lifts-- no longer to the rhythym, but to the rage.
And my arms fly against the nearby walls.
The closet door takes a beating. Zack will need to repair that, later.
And the beat goes on.
And I calm down for a moment, but just then I am caught by the change Rob's voice as he goes into the bridge:
"What if I was good to you?
What if you were good to me?
What if I could hold you till I feel you move inside of me?
What if it was paradise?
What if we were symphonies?
...what if I gave all my life to find some way to stand beside you?"
And at the last line, the anger is back. My arms fly to hair, and pull.
All the what-if's.
You can waste so much time in what-if's. You can waste so much energy in feelings. You can break so many doors, in love.
After three repeat plays, I've let the CD move on. It's the only way my room will survive this post. But I need to point out that, with certain exceptions, those same lyrics could have gone just as well to accompaniment by some death-metal band. Or, if Rob Thomas happens to be reading *cough*, to the accompaniment of your patiently-waiting-for-you-to-come-back-from-your-solo-career band, maybe another interpretation of the song with a more "You & I & I" feel? Busted, perhaps?
If I am reading my site meter correctly, Derek G., former drummer of Triangle Sleep, and a very interesting, possibly unfinished chapter in my history, has been checking in from somewhere in Virginia-- either that, or someone who knows him pretty well. Either way, hello and welcome-- hope you enjoy your stay in my twisted psychological hotel. Chateau D'Caramel, where all the beds are crowded and all the closet doors are broken.
Try to enjoy your stay. I'll miss you when you go.
My name is Linda, and I don't want to know the lover at my door is just another heartache on my list. But I do.
On with it.
