Psychic iPod

Rama, my beautiful friend from high school whom I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen since the mid-nineties, is not only a stunning artist but also a person with big ideas, like big ideas. I go through all the illustrations in his portfolio every couple of months to see what he’s been thinking about lately, and one thing that really struck me the other day when I was clicking around was his Prayer To The Radio God:, written on a CD he gave to his equally insanely talented wife:

“I know you’re in there, God, in everything. Even the radio. Even this CD. Will you sing me a song? Whatever song plays next will be our conversation: a message, a simple truth, or a parable to decipher.”

Now, regardless of how you feel or talk or think about God, if you do at all, this is a pretty great idea. It is a little like what I call Psychic iPod, where, you know, you put your iPod on Shuffle on your walk or on your bus or on your bed, and the iPod just kind of knows what mood you’re in, where you are in the world, what song you need to hear. (This is, by the way, sort of the same but sort of different to the related phenomena of Psychic Email, when someone at your work, as happened to me today, goes “Hey I was going to email you that thing but I haven’t quite got around to it yet” and you go “Oh, I know, it’s already sorted and I already took care of it,” and also Psychic Text, where you pause for a minute in your doubtless busy day and look at your phone, which is sitting there quietly minding its own business, sending its innocent radiation to poison your skull, and you think, hmm, am I going to get a text and then BOOM JUST LIKE THAT YOU GET A TEXT).

Okay so anyway I was on the bus this evening, trying to decide whether to listen to some more commemorative Michael Jackson or whether to switch it up a little, and I thought of Rama’s radio God all of a sudden so I put it on Shuffle. Let’s see what the universe has to say to me tonight, okay?

Where Is My Mind—The Pixies

Well may you ask, Psychic iPod. Well may you ask.

Jogi–Panjabi MC
Hmm—of course I can’t understand the words to this one but I sort of don’t care because I still love this song after all these years and I always think of my beautiful dance buddies in Seattle and of that fun bhangra workshop we did like in 2006, when Amy made matching gold bikinis for herself and her husband to wear at the afterparty in Renee’s and Scott’s backyard hot tub. So I guess the message here is…go to more parties that involve bikinis and hot tubs? And what’s that you say, that I’m actually going down to Hanmer Springs this very weekend? Where there will be hot tubs and bikinis, as well as massages and facials and other thrilling things, just like the song (probably) says? See, y’all. Psychic iPod.

Lies—Glen Hansard

Oh this is a very sad song, which is pretty apropos to some of the sad ways I’ve been feeling lately. Last year when I was in Miami I was listening to the Once soundtrack pretty much non-stop (it came to New Zealand way after it came out in the States and I saw it by myself in Nelson, where I cried my eyes out for basically the last half of the movie, a gummi worm dangling out of my mouth as the tears flowed freely down my face) and I used to get a little uncomfortable with the following lyrics:

You’re moving too fast for me
And I can’t keep up with you
Maybe if you slowed down for me
I could see you’re only telling
Lies, lies, lies

So I think the message here is clear, right? Something about, oh, I don’t know, not giving my heart too freely or too fast or something, not like I have ever done that before in my stupid, stupid life. (But don’t worry, my friends, I won’t do it ever again. Never, never again).

Love Spreads—The Stone Roses
Well the “she’s all right, yeah she’s my sister,” makes me think of my own sister, who is, indeed, all right and for whose wedding in October I am currently supposed to be getting tickets, so maybe Psychic iPod means to remind me to get on my sisterly duties? But honestly I always focus on the “naked in the rain” part of this song, for the extremely dumb reason that it reminds me of college, where I inadvertently fell in with a bunch of very geeky hikers, whose favorite thing to say on any occasion (at dinner, in the porch swing at the Grove House, in bed, sometimes on an actual hike) was “You’re better off naked in a rainstorm than wearing cotton!” And that was over fifteen years ago, and yet still, sometimes, late at night, I hear them saying it still. Guys, I get it already. So I think that the lesson here, if I’m interpreting correctly, is, um—clothe yourself in polarfleece and goretex at all times? And get those tickets for your sister’s wedding? Which is in Miami in October so possibly synthetic fabrics are not very appropriate, so it’s okay to wear cotton…even if it rains? Hmm. You got me there, Psychic iPod.

Maipa—Panjabi MC
Clearly Psychic iPod can tell I’m a little confused by the last song so it’s just sending me another bhangra-infused reminder from Panjabi MC to dance more (or, you know, at all). Duh.

Ironbound/Fancy Poultry—Suzanne Vega
Okay, so I listened to Solitude Standing for like three years straight starting when I was about twelve, so of course I still know this song by heart even now. And in fact I have a lovely memory of getting to know the first (of many lovely) Amys in my life while discussing this very song on the swings on the church playground and being so excited that someone else had heard of it. So maybe this is a nudge from Psychic iPod to get in touch with Ames and wish her a happy thirteenth wedding anniversary, which I do, with soooooo much love. Happy Anniversary Amy! I love you. And your husband. And your children. And just everything about you, really.

However, since this whole Psychic iPod thing is a complex and multilayered sort of a thing it’s also worth noting, I think, that this album was maybe my first significant experience with non-Shel Silverstein poetry, although I’m pretty sure I didn’t think of it as such back then, I just remember being kind of knocked out by how she used language in this album. And this was also around the time that I started wanting to write songs and poems and stories myself, and it’s funny to think that a) a album like Solitude Standing probably wouldn’t sell very much if it was coming out today and b) that the song Calypso put me in good stead in eighth grade English class when we attempted to read The Odyssey (which I still think is a very good story).

[Okay by this point on Shuffle I’d arrived home and needed to eat dinner and put my laundry in, etc, but to keep this going just a few songs longer I just sneakily put on the abovementioned “Ironbound/Fancy Poultry” on iTunes and let it keep going.]

Outro—Martina Topley-Bird

This is a funny little song that I’m not quite sure what it means—I like the scratchy voice and old-timey music hall thing, of course, but as far as the lyrics go what’s jumping out at me is “Never too late” and “You know there’s no reason for alarm” which, hmmm…I guess is sort of vaguely reassuring in a general sort of way. I find that sort of annoying, actually: never too late for what, Psychic iPod? No reason for alarm about what? Is this just some sort of signal to relax and not take myself too seriously, not to worry so much? Oh, whatever.

Goldfrapp—Paper Bag
This is not my favorite Goldfrapp song by any stretch of the imagination (that honor goes to either “Beautiful” or maybe possibly “You Never Know”) but let’s try to keep an open mind, here, and check out the lyrics. We have “brown paper bags make for a hat,” something about snow, something about the sun, and something about baboons and birds. Wow, yeah, huh, Psychic iTunes. I got nothing. Play “Ride On A White Horse” or something a little more upbeat next time, okay?

Okay, one more and then it’s time for hot water bottles and bed.

Got To Be Real—Cheryl Lynn
I am totally laughing at myself and the universe and everything in between, because this really is the next song that came up on Shuffle. Got to be real, eh? I mean, those exact words? Okay, okay, you win, Psychic iPod. I get it, I’m paying attention. You know what you’re talking about.

What’s Psychic iPod whispering (or shouting or rapping or crooning or just plain singing) inyour ear lately?


Posted

in

,

by

Tags:

Comments

2 responses to “Psychic iPod”

  1. Marcy Avatar
    Marcy

    You would love Radio 8 Ball.

  2. Jecca Avatar
    Jecca

    You don’t even wanna know. Oh wait, you already do!