Avril Lavigne-Anything But Ordinary

Why the hell am I posting this?

Well, as a true (poetry) blogging hipster-writer, I listen to music on an ironic matter. Which is why, there is a Nikki French dance remake of Bonnie Tyler's epic power ballad "A Total Eclipse of the Heart" (probably more on that...another day, when I have all the energy to...disperse on that song and that song alone) on my current myspace page. Which is why, I listen to upsetting, popular, and rather terrible rap songs on occasion. Or stencil shirts with "Ohio Is for Lovers" on the front.

So anyway, I had this Avril Lavigne CD from years ago, and a while ago I rediscovered that I had it, and just had to import it to my current library. Today, as I was scrolling through familiar artists and albums, I saw this, and felt this urge to have a bit of an ironic appreciation for the true princess of punk rock. I don't do this on a regular basis, but I do it often enough not to post a song every time I wanted to listen to something for the sole purpose of saying I listened to it--or just listening to it. I try to keep these entertaining things outside of my blogging things.

But it's a bit different this time.

Because once upon a time, years and years ago, I used to listen to this CD all the time, and knew all the words to almost all the songs, and danced on my bed to these songs, sang along as if I knew what this true rebel meant, as if I agreed with everything she said. There was no need for irony of any sort--I thought the songs were so good! They were catchy and I could sing along to it. It seemed like the lyrics all spoke to me! I cherished this CD so much...it was probably one of the earliest CDs I ever got and truly listened to.

And I mean, I knew these songs by heart, so that even now, these cliched, mass produced guitar riffs sound so familiar, the lyrics a step away from complete recovery, the feel of the songs wrapped tight around my mind. It's like time traveling...and there is some spark of sentimentality, some hint of reminiscence, and more importantly, reflection.

I hear the weakness in Avril's voice. I hear the generic mutated, computer tweaked boredom of the melody. The simple to the point of absurdity, hopeless lyrics, the utter unremarkable except perhaps in bad quality ring of the song....

And I hear what I loved about this song, or that CD, for that matter. I hear what I wanted to relate to so much. What I danced to, what I sung to, what I lived to. I hear the catchy quality of the song, having listened to it so much in the past, how I can still sing along and rock out to this generated pop rock chorus.

And I hear myself, years and years ago, and I realize that maybe it wasn't all ignorance and bliss, and that maybe I can still relate, and that maybe it's not irony but something else entirely...

And maybe--maybe, yes, I'd rather be anything but ordinary. Please.