Killing Mary Jane. Or not.

I have looked at the lyrics to “Late Night Radio” on more than one occasion, and I always come away feeling like I’ve misunderstood or that David Gray got it wrong. I always come away thinking, “that’s fine, Dave…we’ll agree to disagree.”

I keep trying to kill Mary Jane.

The piano line is partly to blame. There is no way that chord progression can read as happy to me. It’s all conflicted an unresolved. Unfinished. Like something was supposed to happen to fix and resolve it, but got stopped first. The piano line pops up and everything feels all sad and undone.

The main fault goes to Gray’s singing. He paints the city as a place that’s shiny and magical in Mary Jane’s idealistic mind, but then tells us (as impartial narrator) that it’s dark and dirty. Yes, it’s alive, but Mary Jane’s magical city is ultimately just a place where she ends up waiting tables, swearing that her ship will come in, talking to customers who look through her and her dreams like either exist.

When he finally shows us Mary Jane walking along a high wall, naively not thinking of the possibility of death, what are we supposed to think? Gray’s words tell me that Mary Jane is happy in her waitressing job, dreaming away as cars pass. Everything else tells me that our naive Mary Jane wasn’t thinking hard enough and fell to the ground. She’d go sailing to her death, thinking she was actually flying. The video is no help, just showing Gray doing some questionable lip synching while clad in a Cosby sweater.

I’m willing to accept the Eddie Vedder answer of “it’s about what you make it about,” but I’m curious as to what you think. Readers, which is it? Does she fall off the building or not?

Lyrics Here

Admittedly Horrible Video:

Poppelganger 2: A bit of a dick move.

Spraying bleach on your ex’s clothes before giving them back, telling everyone about her weird sexual habits, and posting blogs about her N*Sync action figure collection are all what most of us would call “dick moves” in a breakup. However, pop stars have access to a level of “dick move” that most of us don’t:

Jacking the sound of her song…in a song about leaving someone. I think if you Google “really, really not subtle,” this shows up.

Chris Brown: Deuces

Rihanna: Te Amo

(e)tv: Summer Brings a Lack of Wookies

I’m a bad goth chick, as I have never had the time/money/will to commit to going down to Atlanta for 4 days for Dragon Con. I don’t travel well, and I work a lot. In truth, had the recession not hit me this year, I probably would have made it because my sis lives in Atlanta now, which would at least allow me to save on hotel money. Instead of actually going to Dragon Con, I went down to hang out, do whatever, and do a little people-watching.

Despite Atlanta being only 4 hours away, I hadn’t driven there in my 13 years of living in Nashville. I didn’t realize it was so close, and my fear of driving over Mont Eagle was based mainly on childhood memories. In reality, the drama and slope of Mont Eagle only lasts four miles and isn’t really that bad, unless it’s raining or snowing.

I got to Atlanta late Saturday afternoon, and my sister, her friend, Elizabeth, and I took a cab over to the Marriott Marquis (chosen for it’s easy lobby-viewing) to scope out the array of storm troopers, anime characters, and Princess Leias. There was a strong Wolverine representation, which is fine by me on account of the “sideburns” factor. While I stood around saying, “is that a guy? if that’s a guy, he’s hot….if not, never mind,” my sister developed a crush on a gaggle of dudes dressed as Halo characters. Maybe it was Gears of War. I suck at first-person shooters.

This would be a good time to mention that, in addition to Dragon Con, Atlanta was also hosting a Black Gay Pride gathering, an Alabama/Virginia Tech game, and a NASCAR function of some sort. Where else can you witness dudes in burgundy visors (backward, of course) posing for pictures with Predator or a four-foot-ten Gene Simmons?

After the Marriott, we went to a sushi/Thai place, hit a random book store, a bar called The Graveyard (hearse out front? check.), and my sister’s regular bar. I had a couple random blue drinks, which is my fallback whenever a bartender doesn’t know how to make a Blue Valium.

The next day, we had brunch and then went over to little five points. I know, I know. It’s touristy and cheesy, but I had never been and I needed to witness Junkman’s Daughter at least once. We also went to a couple of “thrift stores,” which were mere like vintage stores. For those of you saying, “what’s the difference?” I say, “about 40 bucks.”

After confirming that I was, in fact, mentally prepared to witness Ikea on a Sunday, we went over to witness the seething humanity at the local Ikea. It was fabulous, but in a sort of “I don’t need to do this for at least another year” sort of way, as Ikea is a lot like Disney world, but with crazy Swedish names instead of rides.

Everybody was pretty worn out at that point, so I headed on back to Nashville to put together some video:

Click here if you can’t see the embed.

Friday LOL: Kung-Fu Hillbilly, Joel Bauer

Holy hell, it’s a twofer! Little bit off frontbutt, little bit of douchenozzle. I does what I can.

Props for the first vid go to Jay. Props for the second vid go to DrawAndQuarter.

(Click here if you can’t see the first one.)

(Click here if you can’t see the second one.)