Dearest Darling Ones,

Thanks to childhood trauma and a heavy assist from poor self-esteem I have a phobia about being forgotten and/or abandoned.

My mom’s go-to for everything she didn’t do or feel like doing was “I forgot.” This applied to everything from lunch money to attending school plays to putting down the deposit to reserve my place in the freshman class at college.

My dad was a big fan of abandonment as a form of punishment, which isn’t exactly like being forgotten but feels roughly the same.

When I was 15 he got angry at me for wandering off to the music section at the K-Mart in Coon Rapids and left me there. I spent 45 terrifying minutes wandering the store looking for him and my three sisters. Eventually, I gave up and walked to the Country Kitchen where my mom was working. He refused to pick me up, so I had to call Jodi Hanson whose aunt came and rescued me.

When I was 17 I attended my mom’s BFF’s wedding in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. My mom and I stayed at a hotel with the rest of the wedding party. The day after the wedding my mom went back home because my family was moving to Chippewa Falls, WI the next day. I was staying in Grand Rapids for a week to babysit the happy couple’s children while they honeymooned somewhere.

Everyone checked out of the hotel and forgot about me. I spent hours nervously wondering what to do. I didn’t have any money. I only knew a few phone numbers, and they were all long distance. Eventually, I called home hysterical because what else was I going to do? My dad got angry because I couldn’t calm myself down and hung up on me. At some point, the bride’s siblings came and got me.

After that week of babysitting the groom’s parents dropped me off at a Country Kitchen in Forest Lake, where my cousin was supposed to pick me up and bring me home. She forgot. When she finally rescued me, she dropped me off at home, which was empty because my family had moved to Wisconsin in my absence. All my stuff had been moved out of my room and put in the basement, which was where I was going to live for my senior year in high school while my cousin and her family lived upstairs. At some point Jodi Hanson came over with leftovers because there was no food in the house.

There are, of course, a million other ways I’ve been forgotten or abandoned or stood up. I like to believe this has happened to everyone at least once in their lives. I know I can’t be the only one.

Like Rob Gordon in “High Fidelity,” I too ponder what came first, the music or the misery?

Did my love of songs about not being forgotten take root in my heart because of being frequently forgotten or, well, I guess that doesn’t really fit here. The universe wasn’t like “hey, she super loves songs about being thought about or remembered, let’s make sure she has a reason for that.”

Damn you, Nick Hornby.

Regardless, those great “don’t you forget about me/don’t forget me when I’m gone/I won’t forget you baby/love letters in the sand, I remember you*” 80s songs had a special place in my internal jukebox. Still do, really.

However as I have matured, my musical taste has matured, and I’ve taken a hankering to a special kind of don’t forget/remember me song. Specifically, I love the “think of me when I’m not around song.”

One thing that has occurred to me as I type this is how all the “don’t forget me songs” I mention are by dudes, and the “think of me” songs I’m going to mention are by women. There’s probably some sort of cis-gender binary thing going on there. Men making pronouncements and commands, and women being much more emotionally subtle and yet totally more devastating.

It’s similar to how when a guy says his ex is crazy and you kind of roll your eyes because it means she showed emotion regarding their break up. When a woman says her ex is crazy you know that dude is dangerous.

One of my favorites in the “think of me” genre is Lydia Loveless’ “To Love Somebody.” It’s a sonic go-to when I’m feeling a certain way. Loneliness mixed with nostalgia for one that got away or frustration over that one who refuses to come here. The second verse of this song is frequently how I feel about all things romantic. And I never did want that much from you, or at least not everything. I never did want you to be mine. Well, at least not all the time, but now I want to be on your mind.”

My new favorite song in this genre, and all the genres really, is Madi Diaz’s “Think of Me.” In my heart the math goes like this Alanis Morisette’s “You Oughta Know” + Loveless’ “To Love Somebody” = “Diaz’s “Think of Me.”

Diaz’s song has all the fury of the Morissette’s song plus the lovely longing of Loveless’ song. It is amazing and I listen to it about five times in a row every morning to get pumped up to do the adult things that are required of me. I put this song on every time my energy starts to lag and couch dance while sing/shouting “I hope you fuck her with your eyes closed, put the shame off with some benzos.” I don’t even have anyone specific I hope is fucking her with his eyes closed, but rather all of the dudes I’ve ever had sex with. All of them.

I also hope they think of me always.

Yours,
Jodi

 
*Holy Buckets! How did I forget what a thing of beauty 80s Sebastian Bach was? Damn. Between this video and Confetti-era Evan Dando I’m really putting some real thought into my “blondes just aren’t my thing” policy.

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Dear Darling Ones,

The best thing about being a work from home freelancer is that it affords me very much time to daydream. Instead of commuting to work, I daydream. Instead of getting a case of the Mondays, I let my mind wander through my favorite subjects: books, music, and making out with men. Rather than attend meetings, I daypanic about imminent climate disaster. This last one is zero percent fun.

Today while arguing with my Twitter pals about the unevenness of Paul Westerberg’s 2003 record “Come Feel Me Tremble,” I wished for the 82,198,591st time that I had more women to talk about The Replacements with. This is not a slight on my much-beloved dude Westernerds. I adore them, but I still wish ‘Mats fandom was more female-friendly and that once in awhile a woman got to be an expert on the band.

At the same time I thought, wouldn’t an all-female tribute to The Replacements be the greatest thing to ever happen to rock & roll? This kind of tribute with zero dudes involved would be so excellent. It would introduce girls to the band. It would let women talk about The ‘Mats in a way that had zero to do with wanking off about the shitty production of “Tim” or about who the cute one was/is. And for sure a woman would get to write the liner notes because we’re done with letting one dude be the ‘Mats expert.

I was a little surprised how quickly my imaginary track list came together. Here it is

Angel Olsen, Can’t Hardly Wait

My brain started with Olsen because she recently covered Safety Dance and she has a covers EP coming out in a few weeks.

Phoebe Bridgers, If Only You Were Lonely

She already covered Here Comes a Regular at First Ave a few years ago, so just imagine how much she would slay this one.

Neko Case, Bastards of Young

Something about Case’s song “Man” made me think she’d do an interesting take on this one.

Lucinda Williams, Achin’ to Be

The first time I saw Westerberg at the Guthrie in 2000 he sang the last line she’s achin to be, just like Lucinda and me. So this one is obvious.

Amanda Shires, Within Your Reach

The synthy intro on the original made me think of Shires’ “Parking Lot Pirouette.”

Lydia Loveless, Sixteen Blue

Loveless does that aching, conflicted, longing thing so well.

Joan Jett, I Bought a Headache

She already did “Androgynous.” Just imagine her growling giving me a eight dollar and fifty cent, I bought a headache.

Liz Phair, Answering Machine

I think Liz could interpret this sad song into something kind of sexy and I’m mad that I can’t hear it right now.

Laura Marling, Unsatisfied

The woman who sings “False Hope” will bring the same plaintive desperation to “Unsatisfied” that Westerberg does.

Japanese Breakfast, Little Mascara

In my head I want her to treat this one just like her “Savage Good Boy.”

Julien Baker, Here Comes a Regular

This cover doesn’t exist as far as I know, but I can hear Baker singing it in my head and it gives me gooebumps. Just imagine the woman who sings I’ll wrap Orion’s belt around my neck and kick the chair out singing You’re like a picture on the fridge that’s never stocked with food
I used to live at home, now I stay at the house. Ugh, I could already cry.

The Linda Lindas, Kids Don’t Follow

These are the young women who sing “Racist, Sexist Boy.”

Morgan Wade, Alex Chilton

I’m pretty new to Wade’s music, and I really like how she sounds on “Wilder Days.” I think she could give Alex a good go.

Kathleen Edwards, Skyway

“Hockey Skates” is lovely and feels Minnesotan (though Edwards is Canadian), kinda like “Skyway.”

Jenny Lewis, Left of the Dial

This one felt really obvious to me.

Waxahatchee, I Will Dare

This is, obviously, the most coveted honor of all. My life needs to hear her sing “I Will Dare” the same way she sings west memphis is on fire in the light of day.

boygenius, Valentine

This was Wolfdogg’s suggestion that was so good I had to include it. Their cover of “Cowboy Take Me Away” is so wonderful you know they’d bring that to “Valentine.”

The Go-Go’s, Kiss Me on the Bus

This was Westernerd Chris’ suggestion that was so good and obvious I’m a little angry I didn’t think of it on my own before he did.

Is this manifesting, Darling Ones? I have put this wish out in the world so now the universe can make it happen.

Dibs on writing the liner notes,
Jodi

The post Playing Makeup, Wearing Guitar: My Dream All-Woman Tribute to The Replacements appeared first on I Will Dare.

Hello Darling Ones,

You should know that I just scraped macaroni & cheese residue off the sleeve of my shirt with my thumbnail. I had macaroni and cheese for dinner last night (homemade and there was broccoli* in there too because I am a grown up). I cannot remember the last time I showered but my hair doesn’t hurt yet and I’m not stinky, so it must have been in the recent past.

I do know I’ve been wearing this shirt since Friday, which is a little astounding considering it’s kinda white. It’s the only white shirt I have because I frequently drop stuff I am eating on my chest. I like to wear this shirt with a black bra because it makes me feel like a sexy renegade and also most of the bras I’m willing to wear are black.** If you ever see me wearing the whiteish shirt with the burgundy sleeves you will know that I’m feeling like a sexy renegade that day. That information is probably not useful, but I wanted you to know it. Put it in your envelope of Jodi Chromey Fun Facts.

Another thing you should knows it that I frequently tweet #SpinsterUpdates on Twitter. These updates are usually about whatever I am doing and range from the absurd to the pathetic. I’m a lot of fun on Twitter. Last week my friend Kurtis said he envied my spinster lifestyle and that he wanted to be a spinster when he grew up. Wanna know why? Because I’m a marketing genius and my rebrand is working.

Right now I’m gonna share with you a very special Sunday morning (though it is afternoon now) #SpinsterUpdate.

This morning I got up and was ravenous. Not so ravenous that I didn’t roll around in bed for like an hour before getting dressed, but ravenous enough that my usual peanut butter bagel & apple wasn’t gonna cut it. So, I made some pretty epic breakfast burritos. Breakfast is my favorite of all the food groups and Mexican flavors are my favorite of all the flavors. I coat as much food as possible in Tajin*** and Tapatio.

It snowed something like 2 or 26 inches yesterday. Today, however, it’s bright and sunshiney. I sat on the couch with my breakfast burritos smothered in smashed avocado and the two Ts with the sun in my eyes. I turned on Lydia Loveless’ record “Somewhere Else” and I talked about books on Twitter with my pals.

As I was drinking my coffee, squinting out at the sun, and singing out loud to “To Love Somebody” I thought for numerous hot minutes in a row, if this is going to be my life forever, I can do this. If my life is going to be spent eating breakfast burritos alone while I talk about art with people I’m fond of and scratch down writing ideas in my planner and drink coffee in the sunshine while listening to good music, that will be okay. I mean, it’s not ideal, but I can do that.

While I’m on the topic, I want to point out how much I love and fear Loveless’ song. It’s a song about wanting just a little, maybe. Maybe? To me it’s about my personal struggle between that line from Perks of Being a Wallflower, “We accept the love we think we deserve” and thinking, well I don’t need very much.

Do I want so little from a romantic partner because that’s all I think I deserve? Or do I want so little because that is what I actually want?

I do know with 100% certainty I want to be on your mind. Who “you” is changes frequently, but it’s pretty safe to assume it is you. I want to be on all the minds all the time. Fucking Willie Nelson’s too.

But if nothing changes and I remain a lonely 6’5″ Spinster Goddess I’ll be okay with that. At least for today. Tomorrow might be a whole different story.

Quixotically yours,
Jodi

 
*If you can eat, think of, or do anything regarding broccoli without singing “Chopping Broccoli” well, you are not me, because I cannot do that.
 
**I have many colorful bras. They are pretty and uncomfortable so I never wear them. We’ve been through this before.
 
***This is probably the best thing I got out of my last relationship, learning about Tajin. I gave them Jason Isbell and they gave me this delicious spice blend. I think I won on this front, at least I hope I did. It is my heart’s fondest desire that they cannot listen to “Cover Me Up” without thinking of me. I eat Tajin all the damn time without thinking of them.

The post The COVID Diaries: Sundays, Spinsters & Sexy Renegades appeared first on I Will Dare.

Hello Darling Ones,

I spend roughly six to eight hours a day listening to music. This isn’t an exaggeration. I usually put my headphones on as soon as I’m done with breakfast and don’t take them off until it’s time to make dinner. Sometimes I put them back on after dinner. It’s why 90% of my selfies include headphones, my hair has a permanent headphone divot in it.

My sisters laugh at me because I wear headphones all the time even though I’m the only one here and I won’t disturb anyone with my loud rock & roll music. I like them. I find it nearly impossible to work without headphones on. I blame all those years in corporate America.

After rediscovering The Kooks, I decided to take a stroll through the music I loved in 2006 via my Top 25.

For many, many years I would keep track of the Top 25 most-played songs in my iTunes. It is a wonderful time capsule and as I was perusing 2006, I wished I had kept up with that. I had kinda given up the ghost when I stopped using iTunes in 2012.

Since I only had 30 minutes of work to do today (for real, the lack of work is killing me) guess what I did? I logged into last.fm and then I created seven years worth of Top 25 lists. It was the most fun I’ve had, well, I had some fun when I woke up at 6 a.m. this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, but other than that it’s the most fun I’ve had all week.

So far. I think I might watch “Twister” tonight while eating a frozen pizza, because this spinster knows how to party.

It was fun watching my musical taste evolve. The early aughts lists are very dude dominated and you can watch them virtually disappear once the Turnip was elected. You can also tell when I switched from just listening to songs to listening to entire albums. Here, I’ll show you, these albums show up nearly in their entirety on that year’s Top 25:
2010: “The Wild Hunt” by Tallest Man on Earth
2011: “Wild Flag” by Wild Flag
2012: “Gossamer” by Passion Pit
2013 “Southeastern” by Jason Isbell
2014: “Somewhere Else” by Lydia Loveless
2015: “Short Movie” by Laura Marling
2016: “My Piece of Land” by Amanda Shires
2017: “The Nashville Sound” by Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit
2018: “Historian” by Lucy Dacus (Though Phoebe Bridgers’ entire “Stranger in the Alps” is on the list too)
2019: “The Highwomen” by The Highwomen

2008’s list is probably my favorite because it makes no sense. It’s The Decemberists, Liz Phair, The Hold Steady and then randomly “Peg” by Steely Dan. Who was I?

The one thing I tripped over that broke my stupid heart was Ryan Adams’ “Dear Chicago” showing up six times over the years. I fucking love that song and I have failed thus far at carving it out of my heart. It’s so hard to do and something I struggle with when I have fallen in love with art made by men who turn out to be bad people. Like, I get that he is a dirtbag extraordinaire, but my heart doesn’t nor do all my memories and associations with this song. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

Barf,
Jodi

The post The COVID Diaries: 15 Years of Top 25s appeared first on I Will Dare.

Maybe my new thing is gonna be writing clickbaity headlines about mundane things. I feel like I need a new thing.

So recently I fell hard and fast for Lori McKenna’s “The Bird & The Rifle”. The listen to the album in its entirety ten times in a row kind of love. I caught her song “Wreck You” on The Current’s Sunday morning United States of Americana, which as far as I’m concerned is the best two hours of radio every single week.

It was the line, “I keep my change in the car ashtray. I haven’t smoked for years and years, but lately I’ve been craving” that caught my ear. Ruby’s ashtray is filled with change. About 95% of the time I go to a drivethru of any sort I am the exact change queen. I am oddly proud of this.

The song snagged me right away so much so that I made a concentrated effort to catch the singer’s name so I could check her out later. When you have a sort of musical ADD, paying attention to the end of song can be a lot to ask for. Just ask Wolfdogg about that time we drove to Chicago and I controlled the iPod.

When the song was over, I typed ‘lori mckenna’ on a little sticky note on Gladys’ dashboard, where I keep all kind of important information like image sizes, passwords, the FreshBooks time clock, and my library card number. (I think I am the last person who uses Apple’s dashboard, but god I love it).

I did all this and promptly forgot about it because I had to listen to the new Lydia Loveless record a bunch, and to be perfectly frank I’m struggling with it a little. Much the same way I struggled with Jason Isbell’s “Something More than Free.” Mostly this new Loveless’ record is not “Somewhere Else” and so I’m being a bit bratty about it.

Enter “The Bird & The Rifle”. Boy howdy do I love this record. Want the arbitrary number of reasons? Don’t worry, I know that’s what you come here for.

1. “I get dressed in the dark each day. You used to think that was so sweet.”
2. “Deep down you know that you’re worth more than this, or the cost of that dinner last night. He’d be driving you home if he was worth half the shit.” (And actually the entire song “Halfway Home.”
3. “Smells Like Teen Spirit on a tape cassette before we ever heard of the Internet.”
4. That the song “The Bird & The Rifle” is a short story song and I love short story songs.
5. She writes really beautifully with concrete images about small town life, which is something I’ve had a penchant for since I fell in love with John Cougar Mellencamp as a kid.

There are more reasons, but I need to get to the WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

Now, usually I have a pretty strict, don’t read anything about any singer you like rule. I just don’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss and all that. Generally I don’t need a lot of context for artists I have just discovered. The fact that I like them and they make my ears happy is context enough.

But then I remembered something Bill DeVille said on United States of Americana about this being like her tenth record and how she’d written a bunch of hit songs for a bunch of country people. So I got to googling and I discovered her record producer was the same one Jason Isbell used for his last two records and I was all “right on, right on.”

But then . . .

But then. . .

But then I learned Lori McKenna was a co-writer on the garbage song “Girl Crush” sung by Little Big Town. NOOOOOOOooooooooooooo. I hate this song with such a passion that it makes flames shoot out of my ears and my face grows ever redder until the top of my skull pops off and my brain steams.

To begin with the entire phrase/concept of “girl crush” is homophobic bullshit. It’s like saying “no homo” after you profess some sort of affection for something of your gender and you’re too fucking worried about your sexuality to just let it be. Instead you have to slime all over it with with your “BUT I AM TOTALLY NOT GAY!” in bright blinking bullshit.

It’s okay to just have a crush. I get them all the time. On men, women, objects, ideas. . . you name it. I am a very excellent crush-haver, someone should endorse me for it on LinkedIn. A crush is a crush is a crush and I don’t think my feeling for Samantha Bee or Kate McKinnon are suddenly going to turn me into a lesbian and also, there’s nothing wrong with someone thinking I’m a lesbian, because there’s nothing wrong with being gay. See how that works?

Barf.

AND SO THIS SONG! This “Girl Crush” garbage ack! The song isn’t even about having an actual crush on a girl. No it’s about having a case of the “Single White Females” because of some stupid guy that this girl has. So the singer is all “I want to have her hair and her lips and her boyfriend” and it’s just 10,000 pounds of ick, Grammy-award-winning ick. But just so much ick!

So now I’m cranky that someone whose record I adore wrote such a steaming pile of garbage. And I’m sure I’ll get okay with it, because I forgave Westerberg fucking “Trumpet Clip,” right?

Let this be a lesson to all of you, do not google anything you like lest humans ruin it by being all human-like.

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