Alanis Morisette. I'm sure many of you have listened to her music. She happens to be one of my favourite female recording artists, for a number of reasons. Her music is just so many different things to different people that I can't even begin to approach the topic of what it truly means.
Has anyone ever listened to the very last track on Jagged Little Pill? I have a story about that 8 minutes of music for you!
When I first got Jagged Little Pill (the album) from a friend, he copied it for me onto an analog tape. Little did I know that he omitted the last track from the tape. I listened to this tape for literally years, and loved it. She goes from the most searing invective against her exes to touching, tender monuments to happy times.
So eventually I was able to get my grubby little paws on enough cash to buy the JLP CD itself. I have all her CDs (I'm somewhat of a collector ) I noticed that the last track seemed to be the same as the first track. How odd! Why would a professional recording company do something like that to Alanis' cool CD, I asked myself.
The day after I purchased it, I came home from a nightclub, exhausted beyond belief from a night filled with smoke and dancing. My mind was still stuck in the underwater world that is the definition of nightclubs in South Africa today, my liquid-filled spine was still reverbing in sympathy to music which had ended hours ago.
So I decided to get some rest before going to work. Enjoying a bit of music before sleeping is an old habit of mine, so I messed about with my CD and MP3 collection, searching for the perfect tune to lull me into Dream Land. Jagged Little Pill was on the top of the pile, so I popped the CD into my computer (which was next to my bed at that point in time) and programmed Winamp to loop back to the beginning of the CD when it reached the end of the last track.
OK, all set. I took my clothes off and burrowed into my bed, my body aching beautifully.
Unfortunately, the consumption of 6 Red Bulls (I don't use X or E or anything like that, too dangerous) tends to put an immediate block on all Delta brain-wave activity, so I found myself lying on my back, almost too tired to move, but unable to fall asleep. So I listened to Alanis.
For an hour, her lovely, sometimes soothing, sometimes grinding voice, echoed through my bedroom. The sun was about to rise outside, and the world was still sleeping.
The last track of the CD played out. Her single "You Oughta Know" began playing. Now I lay pondering once again why the producers had slipped up so hugely, by putting a completely and utterly redundant track on the CD. Surely somebody would have noticed before it went off to the CD pressing factory? Mind filled with questions, I waited for the last track to loop back to the first track, which was the same thing.
But it didn't.
I waited for nearly a minute, and would have gotten up to see if my computer had blue-screened or something, because there was only silence. Strangely enough, the CDROM was still spinning - I could hear it. The movement of the optical read head inside the CDROM was inaudible, obviously, but it was definitely still spinning and doing something.
Then, for the first time in my life, I heard the last, hidden track on that CD. Here are it's lyrics:
I went to your house
Walked up the stairs
Opened the door without ringing the bell
Walked down the hall
Into your room where I could smell you
And I shouldn't be here
Without permission
Shouldn't be here...
(chorus)
Would you forgive me love if I danced in your shower
Would you forgive me love if I laid in your bed
Would you forgive me love if I stay all afternoon?
I took off my clothes
Put on your robe
Went through your drawers
And I found your cologne
Went down to the den
Found yor cd's
And I played your Joni
And I shouldn't stay long
You might be home soon
Shouldn't stay long
(repeat chorus)
I burned your incense
I ran a bath
I noticed a letter that sat on your desk
It said:
'Hello, love.
I love you so, love.
Meet me at midmight.'
And no, it wasn't my writing
I'd better go soon
It wasn't my writing
So forgive me love If I cry in your shower
So forgive me love for the salt in your bed
So forgive me love If I cry all afternoon.
This has to have been one of the most emotionally defining moments in my life up to this point, hearing this incredibly sad tale of rejection from such a sensitive person, laid down in such a searing fashion upon this silver platter in my computer. Her voice was just so sad...
Coming very close to crying my eyes out, I slowly fell asleep as the sun began to rise over Johannesburg.
This, to me, is the definition of a true musician: Somebody who can pull you kicking & screaming into a new understanding of pain and grief through their music alone. Does anyone else have any similiar tales about the music they listen to?
"...the greater will be the beneficial effect, because you get more of the ultra-violet rays, which are healing" - The Golden Age
[SYN], UADA - Unseen Apostate Directorate of Africa.