I love music. I love the Grammy's. After watching said Grammy's last night (with amazing pizza in my lap and wonderful company by my side) I felt myself begin to question the general public and their inability to recognize true talent. I begin to lose faith in the "arts" when I see Taylor Swift win album of the year. This to me, is like seeing Nicholas Sparks win the Pulitzer Prize, it just shouldn't happen.
People really dig things that don't make you think or feel. If people did like to feel, we'd be listening to legendary greats during their reign instead of decades later when they dropped out of society. Artistic genius needs to sit and ferment for long periods of time, so we can appreciate it when they have drank themselves to death for non-recognition, or watching people like Taylor Swift win awards.
Does the girl have a talent? Sure, a little. We see glimpses of it in her cutesy little diddies about falling in love at 16 and we float back to that time and connect with the song. We see brief moments of it while watching her onstage playing her guitar easily with synchronicity. We see it sitting there underneath the soft careless breathy voice, hiding deep in the caverns of her vocal chords.
But dear lord, give that girl some vocal lessons. Watching her trying to keep pace with Stevie Nicks was like watching my best friend's dog try to howl along to a soft melody of violin strings, just painful and you wish the howling dog would be taken away to that magical "farm".
I find it startling to know that there are female vocalists out there who can shatter your soul with their voice and lyrics, *cough**Imogen Heap** cough, cough*, and get little public recognition. If you put America's sweetheart, Taylor Swift, on American Idol, she would not make it past the first round.
But, everyone loves a rags to riches story, everyone loves a comeback queen, everyone loves to see someone pour themselves into their passion and have their dreams fulfilled. We love those stories. Why do we love them? Because we want to be that story, we want that dream. We want this blonde haired angelic creature to be our idol to worship.
Give this girl 10 years to become affected by the limelight. Just wait it out until her heart becomes deeply broken, until the record labels use up every bit of her blood, and until she becomes jaded by society. This is when we'll see if true genius surfaces and can pull out any real artistic little dna. Fuck, send that girl to Haiti to see life without rose colored glasses and the minor torments of being a teenager who gets overlooked by the boys for the cheer captain who wears short skirts and high heels. That should shift her sense of reality. Ah, but the public wouldn't understand if her words moved from fairy tale love to the desperate needs of mankind. They wouldn't be able to hum along, the song's a little too deep for them.
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