On Sheryl Crow: “Project: Sellout”

From the mean streets of Kennett, MO, Sheryl Crow majoretted, Paperdoll Queened (WTF?) and yes, FFA‘d her way through high school. (thank you, Wikipedia for again providing us with myriads more information than we could ever desire, and yet still only be slightly helpful)  She went to college, became a music teacher (props) outside of St. Louis (gag me with a broken spork) and was jilted by a former lover.  (not that one-nut bike dude.  If you love France so damn much, why don’t you move la?)  Her lyrics were good, and her music solid.  She was a breath of fresh air; something different.  Case in point, this awesome lyric from my favourite Sheryl Crow song ever, “I Shall Believe.”  And I quote:

Open the door/and show me your face tonite/I know it’s true/no one heals me like you/and you hold the key

never again/would I turn away from you/I’m so heavy tonite/but your love is alright/and I do believe

That not everything is gonna be the way you think it oughta be/seems like every time I try to make it right it all comes down on me/please say honestly you won’t give up on me/and I shall believe.

[loud exhale]   That’s good.  That’s what I’m looking for.  But do you think maybe you could explain exactly what happened to your abilities?  I think it has something to musical whoredom.  Yep, that’s it.  From the later shitty album “C’mon C’mon” comes the inspired tune, “Weather Channel”.  And I quote:

Can you make it better for me?/Can you make me see the light of day?/Because I got no one who will bring me a big umbrella/So I’m watching the weather channel

oh my.  Now, before her ‘Big Bang’ with Lance, and her brush with stardom, the album Tuesday Nite Music Club was a huge seller.  I got it off of BMG in 7th grade because I liked the song “All I Wanna Do.”  The first song struck me as a good tune and I sang it all around.  Not too long ago, I thought of it again and busted it out, and listened to it.  Then I realized exactly what the words of the first verse meant, and I was dumbfounded.  You’re telling me the same bitch who wrote “I wanna soak up the sun/I wanna tell everyone to lighten up/I got no one blame/everytime I feel lame/I’m looking up”  came up with this stuff?  Here’s “Run, Baby Run.”  And I quote:

She was born in December, 1963/the day Aldous Huxley died/and her mama believed/that every man should be free/so her mama got high, high, high/and her daddy marched on Birmingham/singing mighty protest songs/and he pictured all the places/where he knew that she’d belong/but he failed and taught her young/the only thing she’d need to carry on/he taught her how to run, baby, run, baby, run/past the arms of the familiar/and their talk of better days/to the comfort of the strangers/slippin’ out before they say ‘so long’/baby loves to run

Nice, huh?  Something that actually makes you think.  Times like this I’m proud SC was a music teacher (i just typed mucis, as in mucous.   A whole different kind of education, there)  Unlike when I heard the chorus from “Over You.”  And I regretfully quote:

I wanna get over you/but you’re everywhere/and i just can’t get away/i gotta get over you/’cause it’s just not fair

Barf.  Anyway, the time has come to rip ol’ Sheryl a new one.  We now take on of her most ridiculous lyrics from her newer times, the famous pro-self-love anthem, “Hole In My Pocket.”  Enjoy; your dose of parenthetical rancor:

You can tell me the world is round and I’ll prove to you it’s square [really, Columbus.  I’d love to hear this.  Especially since it has NOTHING to do with your point here]
You can keep your feet on the ground, but I’ll be walking on air [Wow, Columbus with super powers!  I don’t remember anyone ‘walking on air’ since The Greatest American Hero….Believe it or not, it’s just me! {or, Believe it or not, I’m not home! depending on how much Seinfeld you’ve seen}]
You’re pretty good at waiting While I go running around [Thanks for the bone.  nice complement.  Way to sit while I cheat.  Nicely done.]
Well, that’s just the way it is, you know [Bitch]
I got a hole in my pocket [buy some new pants then, right?  Can i get a holla? Or enjoy your new pants hole.  Come on now!]
You give me love and I drop it [you dropped it?  That’s the best you can do?]
I guess I threw it away [Ok, what is it then?  Maybe this is why Cardinals fans are all such Morans(because she’s from Missouri.  A stretch, I know.)]
We stick together with every day that passes by [Huh?  Is that what you just said?  Dude, I’m confused.]
But I’m just like the weather, I keep on changing my mind [Again with the DAMN weather references!  And what MIND does the weather have?  Great simile, FORMER TEACHER!]
Well you can hardly believe it [Ain’t that the damn truth]
Every time I turn and say, well Good morning, I’m leaving [skank]
And I’ll be back in a few days
But that’s just the way it is, you know o
[o, I know, o]

I got a four leaf clover [wow, well done!  Where’d you get that?  the ‘enchanted troll’ who also sells you your special ‘sniffling powder’?]
I’ll throw it over my shoulder [naturally]
I’m gonna need it someday [for all those 4-leaf clover emergencies.   At least it will be over your shoulder.  A WONDERFUL place to keep important documents and small pieces of superstitious foliage]

It’s too bad really, Sheryl.  I liked you.  I did.  And you went and sold out faster than Celine Dion’s Las Vegas show on Senior Citizen Discount day.  Damn.  

Published in: on 6 September 2006 at 7*07 pm  Comments (4)  

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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Sheryl Crow reminds me of bus rides to and from marching band competitions.

  2. I’m not certain that writing shitty songs is actually selling out. It may very well be that Sheryl Crow sold out, but it’d take more than lyrics to convince me. On the other hand, she always has been a bit of an enigma hasn’t she? Oh, and we don’t speak bad about Lance Armstrong around here, my friend. If you wish to bash on him, maybe it’s you who belong in France, no? (Wow, that sentence definitely makes me look like a non-English speaker, huh?* Shrug.)
    *I challenge you to fit three rhetorical questions into four consecutive sentences.

  3. Oh, honey, she didn’t sell out. The reason TNMC did so well is because all she did was sing the songs that were written by lyrical geniuses David & David, Bill Bottrell, and Crow’s former fuck Kevin Gilbert, who killed himself. Read all about it here.

  4. Actually, this article’s better: Lookit

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