I ran errands last night, after eating all but one piece of a 10 inch cheese pizza by myself. I then got almost everything on my list done, including getting a book on knitting scarves that doesn't suck. Between stops I listened to "Who Killed Amanda Palmer."
I've been thinking about this album a lot lately, especially when, like last night, I am sobbing by the end of it. Palmer writes songs that are so different from the popular music today, in that she writes about the people who are in the cracks. She may cross the line to melodramatic on her albums, but the stories of the broken ring true. I get goosebumps when I listen to several of her songs, and many remind me of people I know and or knew. And while some of the songs do rattle me, most of the album has me singing along, whether I cry or not.
Perhaps the Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus and the rest of the kids today just haven't lived long enough to know what it's like to have a abortion or help a friend who needs one. Maybe they've never met someone who is well and truly psychotic, or had a friend commit suicide. Perhaps they don't know what it's like to have done something you'd give anything to take back; or to have struggled with a life or death decision. They probably have never dealt with a serious loss. Perhaps when they do their music will take on some of the depth that Palmer seems to have. Either way, it's refreshing to listen to songs that deal with these issues; sometimes with humor and sometimes with brutal honesty. And yes, sometimes with melodrama. It's all worth it, however, to hear such haunting and well composed songs and music. And to hear thoughts on those people, the broken, who compose so much of our world but are ignored by mainstream media, unless it's a pity or exploitation piece.
And that's about all I have for now. Time to change diapers!