samedi, avril 08, 2006 In a companion post to the rant about women and self-mutilation, here's a song by one of those not-quite famous singers which have managed to touch me:Lucy at the Gym, by Jill Sobule Lucy at the gym Lucy at the gym She's there every time I go And I don't go that often, so she must live at the gym I stare at her ribs, they show through the spandex Her little legs are working, she's going somewhere She's climbing up the stairs And when she reaches the top her dreams will be there Ade passed me a couple of her mp3s a while ago, and I fell in love with Rock Me To Sleep. Her music's guitar twangy-twangy - think Frenté (you know the song), mixed with a little Jewel, and a little quiet-version Sheryl Crow, but without the edge. So far all the songs I've listened to are all very... pleasant, yet the lyrics do show some thought behind them: I'm at the gym and Lucy's not there It's got me pretty worried so I imagine the worst She's made it up to heaven And when she met her maker He said "come right in I'll show you around the gym Everyone's beautiful and thin And here's there's no sin And your life can begin Her picture montages that accompany each song on her website are quite interesting as well. [Jill Sobule] |
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