I have to start this off by stating that I have some reservations about songs that are about self-sacrifice for love, specifically ones about dying for someone. I get a little cynical but most of all, I get a little paranoid/scared about a theoretical someone who states they would die for me, kill themselves over me, etc.
(I am pretty sure these feelings are caused by Bruno Mars’s song “Grenade” because it seems so bitter – claiming that the object of his affections – of his self-sacrifices – is the most terrible person ever and here’s Bruno Mars martyring himself, saying he’s the best boyfriend in the world because he would have put his life on the line for that woman that he now hates, so that’s why she shouldn’t have done all those terrible things she supposedly did. Just chill out, man. Also – I’m pretty sure that Bruno Mars was just trying to be like Prince, but… As usual, I digress.)
And this, by the transitive property of equality also means that the CHVRCHES cover (stylized in CHVRCHES style as “I Would Die 4 V”) is also an exception to the rule. Lauren Mayberry‘s higher-pitched vocals combined with her Scottish accent bring a younger, more innocent take on this classic 80s love song.
Also – Not gonna lie, another reason this song (and this cover in particular) is an exception to this rule is that I have a huge celeb crush on the singer, Lauren Mayberry. đ
UPDATE – June 2013 – A new video was placed into this blog post because the original YouTube video with a recorded version of the cover was taken down.
Usually, Lesbian Tuesdays are when I post about cool songs by musicians who are lesbians (or really popular in the gay community). I also post songs that are SOOOO obviously lesbian-related. For example, I might post about that girl crush song Rihanna released a while back.
However, in this post, I’m going to write about what it’s like to be a lesbian, or in this specific case: How I’m a moron because I like this one girl and act all stupid because of it, so here’s a post about what it does to your mind – in playlist form.
First, all I can do is wander around with sparkly eyes thinking “You are the girl that I’ve been dreaming of ever since I was a little girl” just like in “I’m Not Going to Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance with You” by Black Kids. (This gets problematic though because of the competitive nature of the singer when he goes “ONE, I’m biting my tongue. TWO, I’m kissing on you. THREE, is he better than me?” because I totally get all weird and question my awesomeness when there is competition.)
Next, as Madonna says in “Hung Up,” “time goes by so slowly” and “every little thing you say or do, I’m hung up, I’m hung up on you…. I don’t know what to do.”
And then, I just feel really stupid and, as it goes in Passion Pit‘s “Cuddle Fuddle,” “Now I feel silly, selfish and dizzy but I got this feeling that you’ll forgive me. Oh my god, just please don’t ever let me go…. Put up with me and I’ll make you see that things are better when you’re with me.”
And thennnnn, there are times when I feel cocky as fuck. I feel like I’m the shit. I feel like I’m Chiddy in the Chiddy Bang’s remix of “Under the Sheets” by Ellie Goulding. I walk around thinking as the lyrics go, “And if you look at me I bet I have you starry eyed…”
Other times, my brain is all ADD and just all over the place, loud, neurotic. It feels exactly listening to the Beck remix of “The Girl” by Dr. Dog.
After those neurotic times, I feel pretty awesome about myself again. I feel like what a life based on Dinosaur Jr.’s “I Want You to Know” would be like. All country-rock inspired and tough and cowboy-boot-wearing and rough around the edges.
Then, I feel all lovey dovey and romantic and cutesy like “Strange Condition” by Pete Yorn. I especially feel stupid like his lines “You know you’re the best thing to ever come out of this place” and “It’s got me out of my head, and I don’t know what I came for” and especially “So leave out the others baby, and say I’m the only oneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”
But to be completely honest, I just always end up chainsmoking and moping around to Black Light Dinner Party’s “Gold Chain” on repeat.
And that’s what it’s like being a lesbian when you like someone.
I’ll admit it, I found out about Mal Blum’s “New Year’s Eve” in a totally uncool way – it was in a commercial. No finding out about her song on a super indie music blog. No stumbling upon a tiny show of hers at a dive-y venue. No. No. No. No.
I found out about her because I was totally Google-creeping Freja Beha. I’ll be honest, I was Facebook chatting a friend and the topic of how hot Freja Beha is came up and also the fact that she’s one of my dream girls and also the fact that she’s a model and the fact that she’s a lesbian. Basically, she’s the girl I wish I could sleep with and also the girl I wish I could be. If only I were 7 inches taller…
Anyway, I happened to come across Nylon’s “Fashion Movie: Freja Beha x Free People” post about the (at the time) latest Free People ad spot featuring Freja Beha in various lookbook-esque poses and outfits.
It’s pretty obvious why they used Mal Blum’s song:
“I don’t like my t-shirt. I don’t like my blue jeans.” I mean, come on, of course you’d want to buy some awesome Free People pieces if you’re reminded that you don’t like t-shirt or your jeans. And how perfectly timed to include a song that mentions “it’s a happy New Year unlike all the rest. Feels like I am changing, and I know it’s for the best.” What is more epitomic of change, especially New Year’s change than a total wardrobe change? And what else is perfect? “Last year is ending just in time…” Yes, last year is ending just in time, considering the ad was featured on January 31. Essentially, what music could be more perfect for a Free People ad?
Ok, Media Studies major tangent over… kind of. And no, I didn’t mean for that to all sound sarcastic. I really do believe that that song was just absolutely perfect for a January clothing ad.
The New Year for me, the beginning of 2012, felt as if it were taking a massive dump on me.
I was broke – in so many definitions and levels of the term:
My bank statement looked pretty depressing.
I had a disgusting cold and a decommissioned right shoulder.
And for almost two weeks, I was so pathetically heartbroken that all I could do was just go home after work to a bottle of cheap wine and cry.
Most of all were five moments that seriously stick out for me:
A few days before New Year’s, during one of those morning after hours, a girl asked me jokingly “Do you ever sleep alone?” reminding me of the promiscuous reputation I’ve gained among friends of mine.
A few days later a different girl told me that she really wanted to sleep with me but didn’t want to just end up another girl on my list.
That reminded me of a few months before when a girl told me, “I don’t want to just be another girl you sleep with. I want to feel like I’m special to you.”
On December 31 around 8pm, I found out that the girl I’d fallen for at the beginning of 2011, the girl who told me that she was so physically attracted to me but who “respected” me so much that she didn’t want to be the person she used to be who would “use [me] physically”, the girl who told me that she was at a position where she felt she really just needed a friend, just got a girlfriend. An amazing, gorgeous, beautiful woman of a girlfriend. I’d never felt like more of a kid than at that moment. No matter how much I talked about my work in consulting. No matter how much I bragged about graduating a year early from a top-ranked university. No matter which big-name client I hyped up – I still felt like some stupid kid compared to this amazing, world-changing bombshell of a girlfriend of hers.
And that’s when at 10:45pm on December 31, 2011, I realized that I’d never be anyone’s girlfriend – that I’m just the skinny, “attractive” kid that people want to sleep with. And yeah, 99% of the time, I love that. I just want to sleep with gorgeous women and be friends and hang out. But when it hit me that the only time I wanted anything more than that with someone as enthralling as that girl yet couldn’t have it, I nearly broke down.
And with that, I present Mal Blum’s “New Year’s Eve,” which I discovered via a Nylon Magazine post about a Free People Freja Beha ad at just the exact time I was getting over all the emotions described in the song: