I was so pretty, oh so pretty.
I'm still not watching Idol. Well, S.B. switched over several times last night for grins and giggles. Steven Tyler is still too old to be that young, J Lo is still gorgeous and kind of squishy-hearted, and Randy still looks like Bill Cosby's Generation Yo Doppelganger.
However, I do want to get another music post up. This one was inspired by my drive home the other day. I was in the Jeep, not the grown up car, because I had to take the Ivanator in to the vet after he gnawed off a small tumor on his underbelly—yes, totally gross—the upshot being he had to have what was left of it surgically removed and I was kind of a mess for several days (it's really a good thing I never had kids because I would have either: A. Sold them for shoe money, or B. Worried over them so intensely, I would have driven them to join either a weird-ass religious cult or a rock band, although the latter would have been just fine with me, so long as said band wasn't Emo), but now everything's okay.
Anyway, the Jeep doesn't have satellite radio, so you know what that means. You know how in Texas and Oklahoma all the radio stations play two kinds of music, Country and Western? Well, out here in Nuevo Mexico it's Hard and Rock. From, oh, about July 2, 1977 to September 10, 1991. Which means a lot of AC/DC, Triumph, and Slaughter (okay, "Fly to the Angels" is semi-cool).
So, anyway. As I was ineffectually fiddling with the dials and trying to find something that wasn't either a power ballad or Iron Maiden, I landed on Guns 'n' Roses' "November Rain." Remember this thing? Clocking in at nearly nine-minutes long and as bloated and overwrought as Axl Rose's ego, it's the kitchen sink of rock songs. I think there are even horns. A banjo, maybe. Certainly a tuba.
And the video! Oy. I know you gents would probably be all, "But Stephanie Seymour in that mini-skirted wedding dress!" And I'd be all, "Yeah, I gotcha, but . . ." And then you'd be all, "BUT!?! What about all those OTHER models in mini-skirts with their boobs hanging out? And all those dresses melting in the rain!" (which, of course, is symbolic-ish for the impermanence of love, but to you all, it's just a wet t-shirt contest with tulle). So then I'd be all, "Dudes . . ." And our thought patterns would never, ever meet on this.
And now I will make myself a sandwich while you all go You Tube the video.
Okay, so tell Moi, what are your picks for the most pretentious rock songs ever written?