July 02, 2003

RIght now I'm groovin' on Allison Krauss and Union Station on Austin City Limits. I think her voice is just about perfect, I wish I could sing. Well, I can...but I doubt I'll ever get my big break in Nashville if you get my drift. Maybe I'll see if I still have the country versions of the Nine Inch Nails songs I recorded for my friend Mary still lurking somewhere in my stacks of files, and post them for linking. Trust me, my versions make Johnny Cash's Hurt look masterful...but I did mine years ago. Hell, what else should I do? I've got the whitest white guy voice in the world, even if I dreamed of rapping or singing funk I'd miss the mark. I don't even have the "angry white guy" voice, it's more like an Erkel version of Kirk Cameron instead. So what choice do I have, I could moan bad goth songs when I sing or twang it up for country music. Since most of my family is from Alabama, I have a long history of familiarity with illiteracy and beer. The choice was clear. Still, I prefer writing and painting to singing and when I must make music I'd rather have it involve things other than my own voice.


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