In the intrest of an interactive guestbook, tell me about the bands YOU get made fun of for liking.
I think that when we talk about things rocking there's a certain sort of rocking that we tend to ignore. There's a favourite band of mine that rocks so hard that the word "rocks" is even the misspelled prefix of their name. Yes, Roxette.
My lifelong love affaire with Roxette began at age sevenish, when I developed a crush on their lead guitarist Per Gessle because he was so tall (like an adult!)* when he wailed on his guitar in the video for "Joyride" and because he so resembled John Stamos**, who I also had a crush on at the time, and wanted to be my uncle instead of cruddly Uncle Bill. And their singer, Marie Fredriksson, was a girl! But as good as a boy! And she kind of looked like a boy (but she had girl feelings)! How very rock and roll!
My obsession later extended to their music. For every situation there was a song to sing along with: "The Look" for getting dressed, "Here Comes The Weekend" for Fridays, and innumerable songs covering both aspects of love*** During the period of my life when I used to do things like drunkenly bring chaps home with me I'd always make them listen to Roxette, knowing that one day there would be one who would understand, who would know all the words, who wouldn't sneer and change the album when I was in the bathroom. I've yet to find such a boy, and have since resigned myself to spinsterhood.
I think it's simply too authentic**** (another word I abuse, I know) for such ironicons as ourselves. We who would scoff at the prospect of standing in an audience of 20,000, probably in South America, because no one likes them here, singing along to choruses at the top of our lungs with tears streaming down our faces. We who can't see beauty in such profound, generic Swedish pop-lyrics as "And it all begins where it ends/She's all mine, my magic friend" or "There's a time for the good in life/A time to kill the pain in life/Dream about the sun, you Queen of Rain". Sensical.
If we're at the point in our collective evolution that we can enjoy Loverboy or Europe or Journey or any of that other crap that we love, surely we can reserve a little spot in our hearts and record shelves for dear old Per, and kind, lovely Marie.
Sadder than I am about any of the other things I sometimes get sad about, I'm sad that it's too late for me to see Roxette. I feel like this comical esl quote from the blog section of their official fan-club website best sums up the way I feel (except I was never lucky enough to actually see them):
"Yeah - I know I’m in the losing position now, unfortunately I just managed to see them live when they started vowing they’d never play live again. Which sucks. I’m gonna be very nostalgic for the rest of my life if that’s the case, and it’s ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, band! Your fault if I keep saying “ooooh the good old times!” for the next 50 years or so. (Alternatively I’ll go on listening to more indie music from Canada if you don’t mind)."
So I guess as much as I like them, I hate them just a little too.
*I later realised that he's actually a very short man. My soul was crushed.
**At the time, at least. Per later "moved with the times" to assume more of a Jon Bon Jovi look.
***Both falling in love, and missing someone who is gone.
****And of course I know how manufactured it is. But the sentiment: So Real!
My lifelong love affaire with Roxette began at age sevenish, when I developed a crush on their lead guitarist Per Gessle because he was so tall (like an adult!)* when he wailed on his guitar in the video for "Joyride" and because he so resembled John Stamos**, who I also had a crush on at the time, and wanted to be my uncle instead of cruddly Uncle Bill. And their singer, Marie Fredriksson, was a girl! But as good as a boy! And she kind of looked like a boy (but she had girl feelings)! How very rock and roll!
My obsession later extended to their music. For every situation there was a song to sing along with: "The Look" for getting dressed, "Here Comes The Weekend" for Fridays, and innumerable songs covering both aspects of love*** During the period of my life when I used to do things like drunkenly bring chaps home with me I'd always make them listen to Roxette, knowing that one day there would be one who would understand, who would know all the words, who wouldn't sneer and change the album when I was in the bathroom. I've yet to find such a boy, and have since resigned myself to spinsterhood.
I think it's simply too authentic**** (another word I abuse, I know) for such ironicons as ourselves. We who would scoff at the prospect of standing in an audience of 20,000, probably in South America, because no one likes them here, singing along to choruses at the top of our lungs with tears streaming down our faces. We who can't see beauty in such profound, generic Swedish pop-lyrics as "And it all begins where it ends/She's all mine, my magic friend" or "There's a time for the good in life/A time to kill the pain in life/Dream about the sun, you Queen of Rain". Sensical.
If we're at the point in our collective evolution that we can enjoy Loverboy or Europe or Journey or any of that other crap that we love, surely we can reserve a little spot in our hearts and record shelves for dear old Per, and kind, lovely Marie.
Sadder than I am about any of the other things I sometimes get sad about, I'm sad that it's too late for me to see Roxette. I feel like this comical esl quote from the blog section of their official fan-club website best sums up the way I feel (except I was never lucky enough to actually see them):
"Yeah - I know I’m in the losing position now, unfortunately I just managed to see them live when they started vowing they’d never play live again. Which sucks. I’m gonna be very nostalgic for the rest of my life if that’s the case, and it’s ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, band! Your fault if I keep saying “ooooh the good old times!” for the next 50 years or so. (Alternatively I’ll go on listening to more indie music from Canada if you don’t mind)."
So I guess as much as I like them, I hate them just a little too.
*I later realised that he's actually a very short man. My soul was crushed.
**At the time, at least. Per later "moved with the times" to assume more of a Jon Bon Jovi look.
***Both falling in love, and missing someone who is gone.
****And of course I know how manufactured it is. But the sentiment: So Real!